A/N: So, here we are. The end of this arc of the story. I never thought this story would take me three years, but I am glad it's been able to come completely to fruition and have an ending to it. I'm going to keep this short so you can go on and read and see what you think. Please let me know your thoughts, and don't forget about the sequel that's going to be published to this! I expect to see all of you there!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story. Except Michael

Chapter 18: Time

There's an old established belief which dictates that time, a concept which in itself fundamentally differs depending on one's specific location within the universe, somehow contains all the potentiality to ease a person's suffering in such a way which systematically makes life easier to endure again.

Reflecting on this ideology always reaffirmed how much Near hated the very notion of social norms, because realistically it was not time which fixed things. It was instead the very basic subconscious human desire to survive which pushed one to move throughout their everyday lives, thus situating the following events atop the pain or struggles which caused the aforementioned wounds.

But at the same time, Near acknowledged that perhaps it was his conscious recognition of this truth which prevented him from traversing the levels of healing; a sort of self-induced psychological hindrance which functioned similarly to the way that pondering a drug's effects keeps one from experiencing the effects.

Conversely speaking, however, Near also knew that the dull, residual pain he felt could just as likely be a product of the fact that his life habitually remained stagnant within an altogether progressive world. Naturally he continued to serve his purpose by working on cases, which perpetually shifted their theme from one to the next, but his physical surroundings were never forced to change. He remained confined within the old SPK headquarter building in New York, or as it was currently addressed, the new operations for L. He was increasingly beginning to see this building as nothing more than a fierce black hole whose gravitational pull swallowed up all traces of light and time itself.

Near looked up from his enclosure of assorted toys which had been haphazardly scattered amongst the papers and photographs which detailed the case he was currently working on. The sun was just beginning to set, submerging the city into a bath of vivid blue and orange shades. The young detective's body grew tense as the once smoldering embers residing at the edge of his thoughts were resurrected, burning him with the images which repeatedly kept him awake night after night.

A mental calendar then flashed before his eyes, displaying today's date in an intolerable hue of red. It had been just over a year since Mello's death at the hands of both Kira and their own folly. On the surface, a year seemed to be a long time, yet in the scheme of things it proved to be only a blink of an eye to the amount of time and trials needed in order to adjust to this style of life which was utterly incongruous with the rest of Near's existence. The more he thought about how long it'd been, about how haunted he still felt by emotions of guilt and inadequacy, he began to consider that even an entire lifetime would never have prepared him to deal with these situations he faced.

His dark eyes drifted from the early evening sky over to Michael who sat a few feet away from him, contentedly playing with the toys which were in front of him and his bear, Henry, who remained faithfully by his side.

A year since Michael's father's death...

And what had Near done in observance of the morbid occasion?

Nothing.

He'd consciously known that the intrinsically ethical thing to do would be to spend that day with Michael, to perhaps answer some of the endless questions the boy always had, or tell him stories of Mello if Michael wanted to hear them. But Near hadn't been able to justify doing any of that when there were cases which demanded his attention, expecting him to solve them. Why should he spend one day focusing on the anniversary of one being's death when that momentary pause could be sealing the contract of someone else sharing that same death day? Was it not more empathetic to spare others of the same pain?

It seemed the more rational course of action, but now he was left to wonder whether or not Michael even realized how long it'd been? Did he know it'd been an entire year since everything happened? Did he wonder why Near hadn't been around for it, for him?

Even as his heart constricted in his chest, his mind continued to justify the actions. This contradiction within himself revived his masochistic curiosity of how well Michael was actually being raised in this lifestyle; with a guardian as cold as he was, lacking Mello's influence of a warm blanket against Near's ice.

After all, Mello had always been the heart, Near the mind, to their perplexing, ethereal body of an existence. So then what sort of life, personality, and worldview was Near sowing for Michael by not properly cultivating the heart Mello which had so graciously bestowed in him?

"You should probably be going to bed soon, Michael." Near said, pushing his speculations back within their chest with the promise that he would analyze each of them individually when given time.

Michael looked up, his gray eyes reflecting the light from the sunset in such a way that made it impossible for Near to recognize the pure orbs as having come from his own. "But I'm not tired!" Michael complained. "Plus, the soldiers haven't even saved the day from the alien attack yet!" To emphasize his point his small hands stole up one of the alien action figure from Near's group of toys, holding it up for the detective to see.

Near's eyes narrowed, plucking the figure from Michael's grasp and replacing it back in its respectable place on his visual map. Near relented, "I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to make you end things before the world has been saved... Fine. But not too long."

Michael's lips rose up into a smile, "Yeah, okay!" He replied with a nod as his gray eyes moved back to the action figures he'd been playing with. Near watched interestedly as only a moment later Michael's bright, innocent smile began to dim, he looked back up at Near. "Why did Kira take my daddy?"

Near sighed, repenting having even wondered what was on the child's mind. Michael and him may have been biologically related, but it consistently seemed as though the only thing the two of them shared was their tie to the blonde successor. This too always made Near wonder if that suspicion was a result of his social short comings -his inability to widen his scope to actually relate to someone else and thus help Michael grow more; past what Mello had already given him.

But regardless of his suspicions, what was he supposed to tell Michael now?

"Why do you ask?" He heard himself say, followed by mental protests berating him on how illogical of a question it was to put forth. He hushed the criticisms by claiming it gave him more time to think about how best to approach the topic.

Michael looked down, adjusting the arms of one of the action figures he was holding. "Well, Kira was bad, but he was supposed to kill only bad people. But my daddy wasn't a bad person, right? Wouldn't that make you a bad person too, Mama?"

Near held back his instinctive cringe as he responded, "That's quite perceptive of you. But things aren't that black and white; the world is never really that clear cut."

"What do you mean?"

"Law and justice are very subjective ideas, Michael, which very often fluctuate in interpretation depending on who you're talking to." Near paused, meeting Michael's large curious stare which was trying hard to understand what his mother was explaining. Near exhaled, "What I mean is that no, Mello and I are not bad people, though again I suppose the judgment of our character is really up for interpretation, too."

"Mama..." Michael's quiet voice brought Near back down from his thoughts of ethics and morality.

"Let me try again," he reached up to twist a lock of hair but shifted his body down closer to the floor, taking his toys and setting them up differently, now with two figures against the alien figure Michael had been taking from him, "Kira was a criminal, and thus a very bad person who needed to be brought to justice." His eyes followed the alien as he moved it, then shifted to the other two figurines, "But it's because he was a criminal that he saw everyone who was against him as being the bad people, therefore explaining the reasoning behind the actions he decided to take against not only Mello, but countless others." With a flick of his fingers one of the figures who'd opposed the alien was knocked over onto the smooth tile floor.

Near felt his thoughts beginning to trail away, shifting back into the old Kira case file. He exhaled, pulling himself back up into a sitting position and looking over to Michael who he found with pursed his lips, playing with his toys again and completely ignoring Near's demonstration. The expression on his face showed he was still within contemplation of their topic. "Did you love Daddy?" The small boy finally asked.

Near's look contorted into a puzzled stare, "I can't answer that." He said, careful with how he ordered his words.

"Why?"

"Love is a very fickle emotion, and not a quality which can be reliably associated with things. I told you, the world is not black and white. Things are not just one way or another, they are constantly changing." Near tried to explain, "It's just not a good word to use."

Michael huffed, "That's what Daddy said too." He reached over and again took Near's alien action figure, setting it up to fight his soldiers.

"Did he?" Near asked with genuine curiosity.

"Yep. He took me to the park once. I love the park! But, yeah, he told me I could ask anything, so I asked if he loved you, but then he didn't really give me an answer to that. Or any of my questions, really. He didn't even tell me why the sky was gray!" Michael explained with a shrug.

Near nodded, reaching over again to take back his toy, "Somehow I'm not surprised." He explained, "Mello was never really very good at being decisive. Well... not about those sorts of matters anyway." He brought the alien figure up closer to his face for inspection, observing the carefully formed plastic. "It's probably better that he didn't give many answers, though. Vagueness allows one to project any sort of answer they want to find so long as they have reasonable justification to back it up, of course." Near said aloud, though now more to himself than for Michael.

The young boy gave a sigh, "I don't understand that, Mama."

Near cracked a small smirk, "I'll explain it to you when you're older."

Michael huffed once more as he stood up and grabbed Henry, "That's what Daddy used to say, too! I'm gonna get my race cars and play with them now."

"Don't take those out when you're going to bed soon, Michael." Near tried to tell him, but the boy was already heading off to his room without an ounce of consideration given to Near's suggestion.

The detective let out an exhale, placing the action figure he'd been observing back standing on the floor in front of him, his dexterous fingers working up the toy as his thoughts began to drift again.

'Perhaps vagueness was the best course of action.' He considered, moving the toy's arms up into a fighting position. 'Michael will never be able to understand that reasoning, considering his short time, and gradually fleeting memory of you, Mello. However, it is very much in your way to try to take the seemingly obscure route whenever you can.' His hand wrapped around the action figure, his index and thumb gripped the head. 'You always had a way of trying to be secretive in order to make my life, and my job that much more complicated. Even though I always saw straight through you.'

The sound of a door sliding open behind him met Near's ears, immediately sending his thoughts into process of elimination mode. His eyes drifted up to the windows in front of him, just as the sun finally descended beneath the buildings, enveloping the once warm room in a familiar, cold shadow. The thud of thick boots upon the tile floor eliminated the majority of the options Near considered; the breath caught in the detective's throat, effectively leaving the moment passing deliberately slow.

But he didn't really need that time to process the remaining options in front of him; his fingers gripped the head of the figurine tight in his clutches.

In the end there only ever was one answer.

Michael's voice broke the perpetually screaming silence in Near's mind. "Daddy!"

The End

A/N: Well... there you go. That's it. That's the end of it! Three years in the making has all led up to this moment. I'm not going to say much because I'm actually pretty scared/worried about the reaction this is going to raised in everyone, but I do want to say thank you to everyone who is still here, who is still reading, who reviewed, favorited, or did anything else for this story. You have no idea how much everything you guys have done has meant to me. This story has honestly been my favorite I've ever put out because of the sheer deepness of it, and I am so excited to get started on the sequel so it can even further develop from here! So, alert me or this story and the sequel will be up soon! Also, let me know your thoughts also, of course!

Sequel Update!: Originally I had another chapter up about the sequel being published, but for various self-conscious reasons I've taken it down now in favor of just telling everyone here. The sequel to this story HAS been posted! The title is: The Topology of Compassion. So, go check that out to find out what happens next in this tale!

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-Forbiddensoul562