It was a quiet evening in the big hotel suite. A wall clock ticked steadily and every now and then, the soft click-clacking of a computer keyboard came from the desk where L sat hunched in his swivel chair.

Bean played quietly on the floor nearby, absorbed in a 500-piece puzzle that claimed to be suitable for children ages 8 and up.

Watari stopped in the doorway for a moment as he entered the room from the kitchen. He smiled as he took in the scene before him.

These two were very nearly a copy and paste of one another. A wave of nostalgia reminded the old man of days that didn't really seem all that long ago, when another messy-haired little boy played contentedly by himself with puzzles that were incredibly advanced for his young age.

It had been nearly two weeks since Bean had come to live with them. He was a good boy, and he had adjusted surprisingly quickly. He was happy to simply be in the room with L and was not especially needy when it came to attention. As long as he had something to occupy his brilliant little mind, he was content.

Even still, it was a big adjustment for L. He wasn't used to taking breaks throughout his day in order to spend time with someone, let alone a three-year-old child. Things like holding Bean's hand or goodnight hugs were very foreign to L. But it was clear that the small boy had already come to mean a great deal to the reclusive detective, and Watari couldn't help but feel proud of him. He was trying, and he was managing extremely well.

All seemed right in their little world.

Clearing his throat, Watari stepped forward.

"Bean, come along now," he said kindly. "It's time for bed."

Bean stood to his feet, one drawstring trailing down from his mouth to his hoodie. He looked over toward L and hesitated, then looked directly at Watari.

"No," his small voice said simply.

L furrowed his brow and turned to look at the small Bean.

Watari raised his white eyebrows.

"Bean," he said carefully. "You know the rules. It's time for bed, now come along."

Bean tipped his head and stuffed his small hands into his hoodie pockets.

"No," he said again.

Watari looked toward L who was staring at the unusually defiant child with a completely baffled expression. The old man sighed and tried one more time.

"That's enough, Bean," he said firmly. "No more nonsense, now. Come on."

Bean looked down at his feet. The string hanging from his mouth moved slightly as he chewed on the end of it. Then, ignoring Watari, he just sat down and continued with the puzzle.

Watari turned and moved to stand beside the desk.

L looked up at him through wide, grey eyes.

"Well," Watari sighed. "We knew this would happen eventually."

L chewed on the end of his thumb as he looked over at the little Bean who was playing quietly again. "Just... give him a few more minutes," he said slowly.

But Watari shook his head. "He's testing us, L. Children do this, it's normal. But you're his father and he needs to see you as such. This is part of being a parent. Now go on."

L looked at Watari again and hesitated. Then, with a sigh, he stood to his bare feet and shuffled over to Bean. He crouched down on the floor with his hands on his knees.

"Bean... look at me."

The small boy just continued playing with the colorful wooden pieces.

Firmly, L repeated, "Look at me."

Innocently, Bean looked up.

L pointed toward Watari. "You need to go to bed," he ordered.

Bean scowled. "No."

L looked back at Watari who nodded encouragingly. Then he turned back to his son.

"Bennett," he said, his voiced raised a little. "Go to bed. Now."

Suddenly, Bean grabbed a handful of puzzle pieces. He hurled them at L and yelled, "No!!"

L clenched his jaw as the puzzle pieces hit him in the face. He sighed. "Okay..." he muttered. He stood to his feet, sending Bean into a cowering little tantrum. In one smooth motion, L bent to wrap his arm around Bean's squirming middle and picked him up to carry him under his arm.

Bean kicked and howled, grabbing handfuls of L's white shirt and trying to wriggle free.

With his eyelids lowered in aggravation, L turned and walked toward Bean's bedroom. He shot Watari a sideways glance as he passed him, and the old man offered him a small, reassuring smile.

L carried Bean into the room and shut the door, depositing the crying child onto the bed.

Instantly, Bean shimmied off the bed and ran toward the door. He didn't make it far before he was picked up by the back of his hoodie like a kitten and placed right back on the bed. He rolled off again and ran the other way, but ended up being set firmly back on the mattress once more.

This carried on for several minutes.

Finally, Bean outthrust both hands and ran with full force toward L, screaming at the top of his lungs.

L just placed his hand on the angry little boy's head and held him away at arm's length. He watched bewilderingly with wide, shadowed eyes as the tiny ball of rage yelled and swung blindly with his little arms.

At last, L knelt down, avoiding a small-fisted punch to the face, and took his son firmly by the shoulders.

Bean was crying so hard, he had the hiccups. Big tears rolled down his wet face from his red and puffy blue eyes and his slight frame tremored with sobs. He was saying something that L couldn't quite understand.

L shook his head, staring helplessly at the distraught child. "Bean! Bean, what's wrong?"

Bean was saying something over and over that was completely inaudible through the blubbering tears.

L slid his hands from Bean's shoulders to his upper arms and tightened his grip. "Bennett! Why don't you want to go to bed?"

And then Bean looked directly at L and spoke in Russian between convulsing sobs.

"...y-... ya... khochu... Mama..."

L just stared with parted lips as he finally realized what Bean was saying.

I want Mama.

And it was then that it wholly occurred to him, like a flood of total, blatant awareness.

Bennett was three years old, and the most important person in his life had already been ripped away from him.

With an instinct he never knew he had, L gathered his little boy into his arms and pulled him close, placing one hand over the back of Bean's wild, black hair. He held him there, letting him cry, until the uncontrollable sobs slowed to a sniffling whimper.

"I'm sorry, Bean," L said softly. He gently pulled away and looked into the red, splotchy face.

Bean lifted a childish hand and rubbed at his teary, puffy eyes. "I went to bed and then Mama was gone," he said in a small, shaky voice.

L then remembered that Anya had died in the early morning hours, while Bean would have still been sleeping. It was beginning to make sense now.

"And you're afraid that if you go to bed..." he began slowly.

Bean's lip started to tremble and L pulled him in again.

"I'm not going anywhere, son," he said softly. "I promise I'll still be here when you wake up."

Bean's breathing was weepy and unsteady. "Can you stay?" he asked, his words muffled in L's shoulder.

L pulled away and looked at him. He nodded. "Okay."

Exhausted from the traumatic ordeal, Bean was quiet as he got into his pajamas with the frog hood. He climbed into bed and under the covers, then lifted swollen, blue eyes to look up at L.

"Do you love me, Papa?" he asked quietly.

And all at once, L knew that he did. He climbed up to sit on the mattress, bringing his knees to his chest like always, and looked down at the sleepy little Bean.

"Yes," he said sincerely. "I do, Bean. I love you."

Bean's little mouth rounded into a tired smile, and he closed his eyes. He snuggled up against L's legs, and within only a few minutes, he was sound asleep.

L stayed there for a long time, watching his son sleep. He delicately brushed Bean's floppy hair out of his puffy, slender eyes. He trailed his index finger gently over Bennett's much smaller fingers, long and thin like his papa's.

He never knew he could love like this.

The bedroom door quietly opened, and Watari poked his head inside. "Is everything okay?" he asked in a low tone.

L didn't look up. He just nodded.

A smile twitched the old man's white mustache. "Are you coming out now?" he whispered. "Should I make tea?"

L just sat there, unable to look away from the small figure curled up against him with a tiny fistful of the hem of his jeans. Carefully, he placed a hand on Bean's head of jet-black hair and moved his fingers gently back and forth.

"Not yet," he said softly.