Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ A Balm for Social Failure ❯ Triangle ( Chapter 36 )

A Balm for Social Failure

(Chapter 36: Triangle)
Light x L

L begins to suspect something is missing from his life. He believes the key to be in social interaction - his weak point. At the appearance of the enigma named Light Yagami, he is challenged to rise to the occasion.

Disclaimer: see ch. 1 for full disclaimer 

 

A/N: All right! Written in one day! If it seems short, forgive me. This was seriously all the time I had. Classes are now 4 days a week for 8 hours each for the next two weeks. It better ease off after that or I'll throw myself into a river. Or, an ocean, or.... you get the idea. 

 

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Chapter 36:

 

The bathwater was nearly cold.

 

L stared up at the white ceiling, hardly noticing. The edge of the tub was an even colder pressure against the back of his head, his hair cool and damp as well.

 

It was rather miserable, cool bathwater.

 

An ill-effect that one prone to long bouts of thought might be accustomed to, but never enamored of.

 

And still, L had not quite decided how to proceed. 

 

It was rather like having your foot caught in a bear trap and trying to make the decision between shredding and ruining your foot in order to break free, or waiting for someone to possibly come along and save you, which may never happen and would result in your death. Maimed and alive, or whole and possibly dead? Every person would have a different answer to that choice.

 

The only thing that was certain was that the decision would be made, would have to be made, by the time he set foot outside of this room. This white, ceramic, echoing room. 

 

Not the only thing, he corrected himself. 

 

The other thing he was certain of was that he had a dreadfully short tolerance for the Shinigami, and that the Shinigami took great joy in this while also maintaining impeccable (and quite irritating) timing for exploiting it.

 

L sighed. Ryuuk was quite hard to miss in the white room, mostly black as he was. He was also quite large. 

 

"Whatcha doin'?"

 

"Hello, Ryuuk." 

 

Was it annoying for the Shinigami not to be answered directly? L had discovered, yes, a little bit. Not that the creature didn't recover quickly, but it was a small win nonetheless. The bathwater, L now noticed (with greater annoyance) was cold. Very cold. He shivered.

 

"Apples?" Ryuuk said off-handedly. He did seem a little annoyed at being put off, but the only indication was the slightly dimmer version of his ever-present grin.

 

"You know, maybe I should move to America," L said. "They have a profusion of orange and peach groves in the South. Very juicy, tasty fruits. You'd like them." Chances were, Ryuuk probably wouldn't, but that was exactly the point.

 

"I like apples."

 

"Apples are for the weak."

 

It was nonsensical, but saying it made L feel marginally better. Ryuuk spluttering in outrage made the cold less intolerable, and almost made a smile ghost over L's face. He retained his poise, however, and pulled the drain on the tub without expression. He was really tempted to run the shower a moment to warm himself up, but that would bring on pestering questions from the now bent-out-of-shape death god. L wasn't going to hand him ammunition with which to get even as soon as he calmed down enough to realize L was just winding him up.

 

"How can you say that, human?? You're supposed to be the logical one!"

 

"Light was logical as well."

 

"But you are more logical, so it's worse if you say it!" 

 

"You think so? I tend to believe we are on par for that particular trait. I'm sure Light just felt it wasn't worth mentioning. A shame he doesn't remember you, nor can he see you, so he can't assure you that that is the case."

 

Ryuuk's squall of outrage was immensely satisfying.

 

"HUMAN! I COULD CRUSH YOUR MEASLY EXISTENCE!"

 

Damn it, but L hated having cold, wet hair. Cold, cold, cold. He dried himself off with a towel but he was shivering rather forcefully. He eyed the hairdryer next to the sink.  "Hm. I suppose you could, but how boring would that be?"

 

SHRIEEEEEEEEEK!

 

L had a brief vision of what the hot air would do to his head - chia pets came to mind - and decided his dignity couldn't bear it. He stood there an extra moment to contemplate it, though, basking in the impotent, otherworldly cacophony.

 

He caught sight of himself in the mirror, unintentionally, and thought that he resembled a drowned rat. His hair was flat, weighted down with water that dripped incessantly from long, pitch-black spikes of limp hair. His face, and entire body for that matter, looked even paler than usual and his dark, tired eyes looked almost too large for his face.

 

He shivered again, wrapping the whiter towel around his narrow hips, feeling the goosebumps rise more insistently. Long sleeves and pants were a promise and a door away, and possibly the only thing pressing enough to make him retreat from the endless circle of his thoughts.

 

Over-thinking how he should deal with Light or what he should divulge to him was a practice in futility. He knew better. Light was exceedingly unpredictable in some ways, and the standard mode of operation should be to play things by ear. To improvise. Historically, Light always managed to tear asunder even the best laid plans.  

 

L turned to the door, only to find Ryuuk blocking it. The black-winged Shinigami was calmer than before and had a serious look on his face. "You know I wouldn't reeeally kill you, right?"

 

L frowned. Incorporeal though the Shinigami were, they could not be walked through like they were not there, and thus, L could not leave until he dealt with this. "I know you'd be bored if you did." L knew no such thing. He could assume all he liked, but the Shinigami was brash and spontaneous, and lived in the moment. Anything was likely. L just guessed that Ryuuk would not kill him prior to feeling he had the upper hand.

 

The white-faced Shinigami frowned and hunched over a bit, his extended wings lending an air of claustrophobic charm to the room. Even folded over, he appeared to tower over L. Buckles and other metal bits that L could not see clinked together in muted tones at the movement. "You don't like me, do you."

 

It wasn't a question.

 

As such, it was hard to think of an appropriate response. 

 

"Define 'like'", L said warily.

 

Ryuuk sniffed. "Neither of you do. And why not? I'm a likeable sort. I've got a lot going for me, and no one ever seems to recognize that. Rem thought I was useless, but look at how she turned out. Smitten with a stupid human who's dead now anyway. I'm doing much better. And I could make the change, not like she could. I don't have to look like this you know, it just comes with the job."

 

L got the distinct feeling that whatever the death god was babbling about, it needed to end before he divulged any more. "I don't think--"

 

"But even if I did, which one would I pick? I mean, you are both fun to harass and have distinct qualities that makes it hard to choose, but you both seem to hate me."

 

Ryuuk's face surged forward within a few inches of L's, and he leaned back quickly to avoid being any closer. It was startling, to say the least.

 

"When is it going to be my time to be recognized?" The formidable-looking, and rather grotesque, Shinigami whined. "When is someone going to want me around instead of someone else?"

 

L stalled, vaguely creeped out by the weirdness of the death god's rant. "Which question would you like answered first?"

 

"Everything," Ryuuk said unreasonably.

 

"We don't hate you..." L said, trying not to look at the rolling yellow eyes. "We feed you."

 

"Lies! I have not had an apple in 72 hours!"

 

"Three," L corrected. 

 

Ryuuk sniffed. "I was just testing you. I can count. Do you think you would like me if I was a human? Light's a pain in the ass anyhow. You could drop him off in America and he could eat peaches all day if he wants. We could go to Lithuania or Russia or somewhere that has an 'A' at the end because 'A' is a good letter, starting the word 'apple' and all."

 

L blinked. Slowly. He picked the least volatile thing to respond to. "...I was joking about America and the peaches."  

 

Ryuuk as a human was too ghastly to imagine. Though, it would hinder his ability to peek on L when he was in the bath, which was now possessed of an even deeper distastefulness. Before, L could write it off as the death god merely trying to be annoying. He suppressed a shudder.

 

"You're just saying that," Ryuuk said. "Why do you like him so much anyway? He's a bit touched in the head, if you ask me. Nice tan, though."

 

"Ryuuk, would you like an apple?" Distraction seemed the best tactic right now. L found his head was starting to hurt, right behind his eyes; he couldn't deal with a continuing spiral into the madness that the Shinigami was spouting.

 

"You said they were for the weak."

 

"It was bad of me to lie like that. I actually love apples very much." Lie. 

 

"So, you just wanted them all for yourself!" the death god accused, rearing back.

 

"I'm sorry. It was contemptible of me to say it." Compounding the bear trap analogy, he could now add an other-worldly being that was contemplating becoming human so he could molest him while freeing him from the steel teeth of the trap. Only he wasn't convinced he wanted it removed, in that case. 

 

Or would the other-worldly being be molesting the trap also, before flinging it away?

 

"No, I understand," Ryuuk said, "If you share my praise and worship of apples, it is only natural for you to do what you did." Ryuuk took L's hands in his large, clawed ones and nodded. "I would have done the same."

 

"..." 

 

"But how come I've never seen you eat one?" the death god added suspiciously.

 

"Closet habit," L said quickly. He wanted to yank his hands back, but thought that might have an ill effect. His goal was to get Ryuuk focused on apples and off of the wildly disturbing notion that gods of death could become human or could harbor romantic feelings for a human. What would Light make of all this? he wondered. Could he harbor jealousy towards a creature such as Ryuuk? Would he be angered that the black-winged thing was of a mind to toss him off in America while dragging L off to some other country with an odd naming convention? Many places ended with 'A'. His favorites, however, England and Japan, did not. He had no opinion of Russia, per se, but it seemed to be rather cold there a good amount of the time, depending on the region.

 

"Maybe I'd believe you if I saw you eat them all the time."

 

"Humans cannot eat the same food all the time," L responded, wondering if he wasn't going to be stuck eating apples regularly to assuage the relentless demon. "Once a day is the most I ever had." God forbid he had to try and eat more than that. Apples weren't bad, but they were far from a favorite.

 

"You eat things like cake all the time," Ryuuk pointed out.

 

"Yes, well, it's softer, isn't it?"

 

Ryuuk nodded sagely, as if that were a perfectly reasonable explanation. "I suppose it is. I like things that crunch though."

 

"And I like minimal effort."

 

"Applesauce?" Ryuuk suggested.

 

"Too many preservatives, and the texture is strange."

 

"Ah."

 

"So, would you like an apple, Ryuuk?" I'M. SO. COLD. L thought, willing himself to stop shivering hard enough to make his teeth want to clack.

 

"Are you having one?"

 

L mentally sighed, and grit his teeth. "Certainly, though I was going to dress first."

 

Ryuuk seemed mollified, though his wings flapped and drooped a little. "I guess you would do that... Humans get cold, don't they? How about Bermuda?" 

 

"I'll think about it," L said, deciding to try and push past the leather straps and feather-clad body, lest he be trapped in the bathroom forever, forced to contemplate things such as himself with a tan or Ryuuk's lascivious intent in suggesting the tropical area. He kept a firm grip on his towel as he passed by the Shinigami, just in case.

 

Getting dressed was a tricky affair. L located a long-sleeved white sweater - the kind he always preferred to wear - and pulled it on gratefully. Boxers and jeans were the difficult part, trying as he was to slip them on under the towel, giving Ryuuk as little to look at as possible.

 

So disturbing.

 

That accomplished, he threw the towel over his head and ruffled it, in an attempt to minimize the water dripping onto his shoulders and soaking his top with a spreading, cold dampness. 

 

Through a gap in the towel, he noticed Light's eyes were open a crack and watching him.

 

A fissure of anxious energy tumbled through his body and he stopped rubbing at his head. "What?"

 

Light shrugged and closed his eyes.

 

L peered at him and noticed that his posture was anything but relaxed. Light had something on his mind but he was being reticent about it. 

 

L slowly rubbed the towel again, finishing his task, then dragged the towel off of his head to drape over the back of a nearby chair. "How is your headache?" L asked diplomatically. He was pretty sure that he was dealing with the non-volatile version of Light, the innocent side, but it never hurt to re-assess.

 

"It's fine," Light said sullenly. He paused. Fidgeted. "Why did you dress like that?"

 

L looked down at his clothes. "Like what? I always--"

 

"Like you didn't want me to see anything. It's... fine if you don't." He turned his head to the side and said under his breath, "It just doesn't make sense considering we've seen each other wearing considerably less than towels on a number of occassions, unless something has changed."

 

L suppressed the urge to glare at Ryuuk, as it would have been a stupid move for two reasons. One, Light was unaware of the Shinigami, and L meant to keep it that way. Two, he did not want to make it obvious that he had been trying to keep as much skin covered as possible, lest he offend the death god and spark off another scene like the one he'd been privy to in the bathroom. Bermuda, indeed.

 

"I'm cold, that's all. I stayed too long in the bath." 

 

Light smiled somewhat humorlessly. "I see. And what was your conclusion?"

 

L could see Light was amused at the thought of L losing track of the time, being lost in thought even in the bath ('That's just like you', he would have said in a different situation), but it was dimmed tremendously by his fear of being discarded.

 

"That would be that I am very cold, and somewhat hungry." L lightly clasped Light's nearer hand in his to demonstrate the first part of his statement. Ryuuk snorted in disdain.

 

Light flinched a little in surprise. "They're like ice," he said, his hands moving to encase L's and rub them in attempt to warm them. 

 

It was unexpectedly moving to see a display of caring like this from the brunette. Light sat up, tension fleeing the set of his shoulders, his silky hair falling across his eyes as he focused on bringing life back to L's spidery hands with his elegant ones. 

 

Thumbs rubbed over the palms of L's hands and down each finger, massaging his flesh into pliant submission.

 

It was more intimate that L would have expected such a thing to be, and he felt a nervous sort of tension ghosting through his body. It made him want to pull his hand back, to retrieve it, and yet he was rooted in place, unable or unwilling to break the trance-like quality of this small act. Light's ministrations were firm, but soft. Nearly gentle, which was not a quality he could usually really claim.

 

L jumped a little as Light raised the palm of his hand to his lips, his breathing becoming a fraction unsteady as Light brushed silken kisses upon the now sensitive flesh of his trembling hand and the vulnerable skin of his wrist. The simple touches were wrapping him in a warm haze that he didn't quite want to let himself believe in, but was fallling into nonetheless. His body wanted to drift forward, and it was a task to keep it from doing so; more so when rich amber eyes looked up at him from beneath a heavy fringe of long lashes, filled with nothing but soft melancholy and the intense desire to be close.   

 

The veil dropped over them once more as his lids lowered, but the impression stayed and was all the more potent for the brief glimpse of it. Light was bent at his right hand, begging favor in a way, asking for the right to remain at his side. As if L had any control over that, or had the ability to pull away when Light's fevered lips were before him, seeking his in a gut-clenchingly tentative brushing of mouths. 

 

Soft, brief, compelling, the contact was as insubstantial as butterfly wings and more intoxicatingly powerful than anything L had experienced, catching his breath and shivering through his limbs in a way that had more to do with heat than cold and drew him to Light's mouth as if it could feed him the air he was no longer breathing on his own.

 

Fingers wound into the heavy, damp locks at the back of his head, pulling him closer and tipping him into the gratifying heat of a true kiss, and the silken pressure of a gently stroking tongue. 

 

Just like this...

 

It didn't seem to matter that their bodies had found release not too long ago. The wavering and unsteady tenor of emotion, of doubt, and fear, and need, and the feeling of being oh-so-lost, was personifying itself in the whole of this kiss, and fed the bittersweet desire for closeness as the only thing that could offer reprieve. Tentative touches connected them through the span of rocky past and uncertain future that they were trapped between. 

 

They did not have the comfort of words to heal the wounds they inflicted upon each other. Their dynamic allowed only for the gain or loss of ground though a wordless language, treacherous and uncertain though it could be. Words were too open for misinterpretation - too primed for barbs. 

 

Light's skin was bare, covered only by the sheet draped over half of his lap, leaving an unbroken line of tan flesh from torso to hip to well-shaped thigh. L couldn't help but look. Couldn't help but touch. Couldn't help but to react to the low noise of pleasure that purred in the brunette's throat and the steadily growing passion flavoring the controlled nature of their joined mouths.

 

Light's body was hot, even through the layer of L's clothes. It was hotter still when Light pulled him down into the mess of sheets and pillows, on top of him, to feel it directly through the press of flesh and bone and smooth muscle. Hotter yet as his mouth was consumed and Light's hands moved under his shirt, spreading over his back and everywhere else they could touch.

 

The aching in his abdomen was severe, desperate, and humbling. L had no control over it, or the way it swelled with every touch, with every flick of tongue or shift of their bodies. He knew that Light was the only one who could spark such frenzied desire, and the only one who could satisfy it.

 

"This is beginning to resemble last time," L breathed heavily. The effort of breaking contact was immense, but that small worry had to be given voice. It had to be acknowledged, lest it grow to be more than a thread of trepidation. Light allowed him respite, holding him close, but demanding nothing. He was merely tracing lazy kisses over L's cheeks and eyelids and forehead and jaw, raining them down in a soft, distracting pattern that was making it harder for L to think of anything other than reclaiming that elusive mouth. 

 

"I know, I'm sorry," Light murmured between anointments. "I'll do nothing this time, I swear it."

 

"You're not doing nothing right now." His voice sounded suspicious and abrupt, even to his own ears. He felt the pressing edge of fear, waiting to be realized. It was brought on when Light's actions and words didn't quite match - benign or no. Light had him in thrall, and was acting as if L were the one in control. L was painfully aware of the fact that he was not, and hardly ever was.

 

"Ryuuzaki, please." Light sounded only a touch frustrated in his appeal, wanting to appease. "I'd lie here like a board if I thought that's what you wanted, but I know that's not the case." His voice was hushed, the words spilled out fast enough to reflect his desire to wipe out this line of conversation.  

 

L bristled a little. "So you still believe you know what it is that I want?" 

 

"I'm practically saying I don't, where certain things are concerned. It isn't easy for me to admit that, so stop being deliberately obtuse."

 

Light's tone was getting defensive, and a little arrogant. It begged to be addressed, to be challenged and smacked down. And this was where words began to, and continued to, choke them.

 

"Do you think insulting me will help?"

 

See? L couldn't even make himself stay silent and brush it off. He knew Light could get defensive when being honest, and yet he couldn't keep himself from reacting.

 

"Ryuuzaki," Light said in a carefully modulated voice.

 

"What?"

 

"This isn't what this is supposed to be about."

 

"Wh--" L was cut off as Light pressed L's head against his chest and held him there. His skin smelled warm, and faintly of salt. For a moment, he felt the tension starting to ebb, and the urge to take up arms begin to fade.

 

"I don't want to fight with you. You're scared and don't believe you can trust me. Though I can't avoid resenting that, it can't be helped."

 

"I'm not scared," L shot back in annoyance, pulling out of Light's attempt to forcibly calm him down. "And you have got to be the last person I would heed on the matter of psychological profiling at this point."

 

Light's eyes narrowed slightly. It was the only warning L had before Light rolled them into the reverse position, pinning him hard with a forearm beneath his chin. Panic blazed through L before he could even assess the change. 

 

"You're a liar, Ryuuzaki."

 

"Get off of me," L said thinly.

 

Light released him immediately, sighing harshly as he ran a hand through his hair.

 

"Look," L said, sitting up shakily. "I understand what you are saying. I do. But how can I know that you won't lose control of yourself? Historically, letting down my guard with you results in very bad things, and I'm not exactly eager to help that happen. If I feel the situation might lead to that end, I will not persist in it."

 

"How can you know what will lead where, when you aren't willing to help me define that?"

 

"Just how far do you expect me to go for you?? Light--" L broke off and looked away. He would not allow the quaver to manifest itself more fully in his voice. It was short of maddening... this frustration and the high standard that Light held him to under gunpoint.

 

"By my estimation," Light said quietly, pressing the matter, "the shift last time only happened when I saw you be so submissive and vulnerable to me. When I said I would do nothing, I meant it. I wanted to know if I could be close to you without hurting you."

 

"And if you can't?" L challenged, not really knowing what he would say if the roles were reversed.

 

"Then Bermuda looks like a good choice, now, doesn't it?"

 

"Shut up, Ryuuk," L snarled over his shoulder.

 

Light blinked at him. "What did you say?"

 

Ryuuk floated over next to Light and poked him in the head. "He said he'd rather go to Bermuda with me than stick around with you, despite your nice tan and shiny hair."

 

"Light," L said, coming to a decision, "answer me one thing."

 

"...okay," Light was frowning, and kept glancing to the side where Ryuuk was leering at him.

 

"Do you trust me?"

 

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

 

"A perfectly reasonable one. Do you trust me? Think hard about this, Light, and do not answer without knowing the truth. Do you trust that I am of sound mind, and would not deceive you in any manner that would be detrimental to you?"

 

"Yes," Light answered immediately.

 

"Then, to answer your question, Ryuuk is the death god you saddled me with the moment you ceased being Kira. He's currently poking you in the head. You, however, are blissfully unaware of his charm as you can neither see nor hear him." The words came forth easier than expected, despite not knowing if Light would believe him or not. He had meant to keep Ryuuk a secret, difficult though that would be, but the situation seemed to call for the outing of this little truth and would segue into the greater truth he'd decided to come forth with.

 

"God, Ryuuzaki, is that what you've been glancing at?" Light glared at the space that Ryuuk was in fact occupying and swatted at the Shinigami. "Were you conversing with it in the bathroom as well? I thought you'd developed a habit of talking to yourself."

 

"You could act a little more surprised," Ryuuk said dejectedly.

 

"What did it say?" Light demanded. "I saw you glance at it."

 

"Ryuuk said he's disappointed in your lack of reaction, and dislikes when you refer to him as an 'it'."

 

"No, I didn't," the Shinigami said, flapping his black wings.

 

"You were going to," L said, " It was obvious."

 

"Hmph. I never mentioned it in all the time he was in charge." Ryuuk relented after a moment and added, "But it was bugging me." 

 

L made sure not to look at the Shinigami when it spoke this time, so he could avoid the inevitable translation. He was waiting for the one question he knew was coming, and the one he wasn't sure how to handle until it came.

 

"Why can you see it, and I can't?"

 

"Because I have a death note. The one attached to Ryuuk is the one you used to hold claim to."

 

Light got an excited look in his eyes. "Where is it? But--" His look turned wary. "Does this mean you are now Kira? Is that how you killed Teru?"

 

"I am not Kira. Anyone who touches the notebook would be able to see the Shinigami who haunts it." 

 

"I want to see it." Light's eyes were nearly glowing with excitement and calculations. "Shinigami," he muttered to himself, "I knew there was something more to it than 'magic' or godlike powers. Ryuuzaki, I want to see it, the death god. Let me touch the notebook."

 

"No."

 

The expression died on Light's face. "Why not?"

 

L stared stonily back. "If I do that, all of your memories will come back. All of the memories that you gave up in order to free yourself from being Kira... I would be reversing the decision you made, and negating what you put yourself through as a result."

 

Light looked at him with suspicion. "So I was Kira. A murderer. And I somehow lost my memories of it and gained a strong sense of morality regarding killing somewhere along the way?"

 

"Was I not right about your multiple personalities, though you found it difficult to believe?" L said harshly. "Did you not say that you trusted me?" He had to make his point here and now. Light would have to understand that he had been Kira, and had denounced it. He had to do this, accept it, and he had to keep himself together. 

 

---

 

"Yes, yes," Light waved him off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I just... I'm having trouble taking it in."

 

Remembering some of the things his not-self said, a lot more was making sense. In a detached way, or course. More like a puzzle than anything of a personal nature. Logical. Logically, it made more pieces fit. But thinking about it from a personal standpoint... to be a murderer, to be 'killed' because the world wanted you dead, and then to harm the one that saved you... to love doing it, over and over...

 

"Are you getting a headache?" L asked warily.

 

"I... don't know. Maybe you should go."

 

If his darker personality came out now, he would most certainly be dragging L down beneath him and finishing where they left off. He could almost taste the aroma of arousal on his tongue from their abandoned foray, and his body still hummed thickly with it. He had been sure of his control earlier, but now... now the thought of making L cry out in a hoarse voice, feeling him shudder and writhe and beg was making his pulse beat hotter. It was all losing the feeling of taboo that had been firmly in place.

 

That short spark of fear L had displayed earlier, had painted his features like a masterpiece. He wanted to pin that emotion down, savor it, and feed off the heartbeat fluttering in L's throat like a caged thing. It was his, and it was his right.

 

L was watching him, and the trust his face held was more apparent to Light now. Now that he wasn't paranoid about trust and bonds, and simply saw such things as tools to be exploited.

 

"Go," Light forced out, before he slipped away.

 

God, I want to eat you alive.

 

---

 

L sat at his desk at headquarters, in the hotel Light no longer resided in, half-heartedly chewing on a twizzler. He'd felt the shift this time. Both of them had. And what L had noticed in particular, was something akin to a focusing inward right before Light lost it. Of course, he had been nearly on his feet and headed towards the door the moment Light had suggested he might want to leave. Otherwise, he would not have had enough time to do so between Light's actual warning and the other personality sliding into place.

 

He wished the other Light, the Kira-like Light, didn't have such a penchant for startling, sharp smiles and mocking leers. They set his heart to racing in a typical, yet wildly unhealthy fashion, and made his skin prickle like pins and needles - an effect which tended to last a while, setting his nerves on edge.

 

It made him antsy.

 

That was probably what set him back on the problem of Wammy's House. Checking around, he had determined that the situation had deteriorated even further since he'd last checked. Restrictions had been placed, disallowing any of the children outside contact, including visitors, phones, and internet. The confirmation of this was that Matt, annoyed at the newly enforced rules and worried about a few things he mentioned in his missive, had hacked his way out and gotten an email through to L.

 

Translating Matt's manner of speaking correctly, after a second read-through (the boy was prone to a mix between eclectic net-speak and sound effects), L was informed that Roger was very nearly insane, and Mello was being dragged not far after. Hazy on the details, Matt said only that Mello's keeper was becoming more twitchy and paranoid and that after the standard briefings Mello had with him, the blonde boy returned with an increasingly volatile temper and tendency to seclude himself from others. Currently, he would only speak to Matt, and sometimes Near.

 

There was also a brief mention of Mello burning his hand intentionally in a candle flame, without seeming to register any pain. When Matt discovered him and took it away, Mello simply turned to him and said, 'Maybe we'd all be better off in fire.'

 

The email ended with: 'i like my games and i like Mello, but i don't like fire.'

 

It was the most serious and coherent thing Matt had ever said.

 

L chucked the twizzler in the trashcan and leaned back in his chair forcefully, a dogged sigh escaping his lips. He didn't like this. Not at all. Something had to be done. 

 

He chewed at his thumb, trying to alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling on all sides. Watari had to remain in the dark about this... If he did not approve of what L intended to do, if L were to decide such measures were unavoidably necessary, L could not afford his interference nor the increased odds that the old man would get himself hurt. If L went after Wammy's House, he had to take down every last one of them. There could be no warning.

 

---

TBC

 

A/N: Thank you for reading!

 

I bet you thought I forgot all about Wammy's. haha. I didn't. ;P

 

This was an aspect of the story I knew would be coming into play the entire time, I just didn't know quite when. It is not an attempt to make this fic any LONGER, because god knows I have been trying to bring it all to a close. ;P I also couldn't help throwing in a little implied Mello/Matt. I am not really a fan of Mello in any way (I do love Matt though, minor side character though he is), but since he popped into the fic earlier, I had to then use it to amuse myself with getting to write about Matt. 

 

Ryuuk = nkwsfahudswtf haha