Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ A Balm for Social Failure ❯ Disarming Quillish ( Chapter 37 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A Balm for Social Failure

(Chapter 37: Disarming Quillish)
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: Extra long chapter! (Er... to make up for its late nature -cough cough-)

Thank you to the lovely people who are still reviewing! Stories are hard to end properly, and it sometimes takes extra thought. Thank you for sticking with me! Impending moves, internships and exams also put a stop in the works. This summer has been insanely busy for everyone, hasn't it?

_____________________________________________________________ ________________________________________

Chapter 37:

"L, I think it's time I meet with Light."

L put down his cup of tea with a resigned sigh. "Can it not wait? I'm right in the middle of--"

Watari regarded him with strained patience. "No, I don't think it can. l have listened to you and deferred to your judgement in a great many things, but on this, I am resolute. Where that boy is concerned, you are not yourself, and your reluctance to prove his innocence is making the truth in your statement less plausible."

Ah, yes. The story he'd given after retrieving Light from Mikami's apartment. Everything he'd said had been true, though there was the omission of Light's death note coming into his possession. Mikami had been the second Kira: true. Mikami was dead and the notebook they retained belonged to him: true. Light was a little bent out of shape over his experiences with Mikami over the last several days: true. Light was no longer Kira: true.

It was only a matter of time before Watari tired of waiting. He needed to determine for himself that Light was no longer Kira. L did not blame him - he would have done the same. Only, understanding this did not make it any less inconvenient. Light, for this meeting, would need to be the subdued, victimized version. In essence, the exact opposite of the way he'd been the last time L had seen him.

He needed to ensure that Watari did not see that aggressive, Kira-esque side. If he did, he would logically conclude that nothing had changed, that Light was still Kira, and that L no longer had any rational judgement to speak of. He could not provide undeniable proof that Light was not Kira, because that proof involved the notebooks and the trade for the eyes which led inexorably to Mikami's convenient death.

That L had used the death note on the lawyer would not be Watari's first supposition, but he would get there eventually.

L's palms started to sweat.

He was certain that, being proved guilty of murder, the British man would feel obligated to fulfill his duty and turn him over to the authorities.

That would be wildly inconvenient.

If only Watari could be removed from the picture...

L mentally slapped himself, horrified at the ease with which the insidious, unforgivable thought slid into his head like a viper winding through grass. He would never... ever do such a thing.

Just having access to it... It was as I suspected... Having such a tool as a death note in one's hands was enough to warp one's thinking. To make light of death... To justify that which was unjustifiable...

Seeing down that path, he could see the how and why of Light's own fall from grace. The brunette had been blinded by an ideal that had seemed worthy of attaining at any cost... he'd strived for an ultimate good that required ultimate evil to accomplish, only he just hadn't been able to see it.

L sipped again at his tea, humbled by the groundwork of the whole affair that offered itself to him so fully. To be privy to the beginnings of Kira's birth, the cause and effect... to see so deeply and be aware of the root of it all...

And how many people would be able to claim sanity after the death note had had its way with their mind? How many of them would move to use it with a pure heart as Light had? Light was not evil. Far from it. But the notebook's influence was undeniable and caused its evil through human hands, tarnishing them with its extended use.

Would I be any different?

Can I use it and not fall prey to the same?

He liked to think he could, that he was stronger than to fall so mindlessly into the notebook's sway, but then Light was strong and he had not made it through in one piece. In fact, without L there to question him endlessly and ensnare whatever human emotion still lingered, maybe nothing would have pulled him back.

(And that was why you told him, isn't it? You risked the stability of your relationship, because you will need him there to pull you back.)

Was that selfish of me?

Was it? If he self-destructed, Light would be alone, his fate uncertain. He needed Light to ground him, and Light in turn would benefit from the result. But, in wanting to save Light, he had to keep the notebook far away from him. To consider using it under the brunette's nose, even for what he deemed to be a just cause... he would be pulling Light into this deep pit after him, condemning them both.

"L?"

L stirred, considered a few responses he might have made and settled for, "Sugar. I'm low." This wouldn't be the first time he'd stared off into space as if he'd run out of fuel. "Can you get me something? I can't think."

"Of course, Sir."

Watari excused himself, giving L a few more minutes to himself. Meet with Light... it feels too premature, too sudden, though I have been expecting Watari to ask it this entire time. He ran through a quick, mental checklist, a pared down version of the current situation and what his next moves had to take into account:

One, Watari cannot know that I have a notebook.

Two, Watari cannot suspect that Light is still Kira, therefore he must never see that Kira-esque side.

Three, Watari cannot know that I caused Mikami's death, nor that I would harbor such killing intent towards anyone.

Four, Watari must not be anywhere near Wammy's House in the coming days.

The unspoken number five was more of a problem. It entailed the use of the death note and the covering up of such use so that no one suspected its involvement. L thought of what Matt had said, about Mello and fire, and considered what he knew of the notebook and controlling one's... victims prior to their time of death. But if he was intending to save the children, it would be wrong to make even one of them a scapegoat in order to save the rest. That sort of thinking - sacrificing for the greater good - that was the path that could make good men make bad decisions. It was in such small details that evil could truly live.

L still held out some small hope that all of this planning would be unnecessary, and that there would be another way. Only time would tell. In the meantime, he had to be prepared.

---

Two chocolate glazed, coconut-sprinkled donuts and three cups of tea later, L and Watari were making the trip over to the other hotel to see Light.

L stalled as long as he could. He did not have a way to ascertain Light's state without Watari also being privy. The old man was not allowing him any time to make assurances. He could only hope that given enough time by himself, the Kira-esque personality would fade back, leaving the version of Light that Watari needed to interact with.

There was no doubt in L's mind that the British man would detect that other personality's presence. It was too close to Kira, and Watari had suffered Kira's presence long enough and been privy to that lashing, undercutting anger. Watari would recognize it.

L shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans and slouched after his mentor across the hard floor of the lobby, his sneakers making hushed squeaks upon its polished surface.

In an odd way, L felt sullen. He followed Watari's brown, brimmed hat and lighter brown trench coat with his eyes. It was trademark attire for the man; L couldn't remember seeing him without it. It reminded him of simpler days, where Watari indulged his younger self, affording him support and free rein but giving gentle and wise advice, as well as being the carrier for his voice as the detective L. Watari had been there for most of his life. The parts he cared to recall, anyway.

He came to live at Wammy's when the institution was nothing but a thought and a dream. His parents didn't mind, as long as they could expect compensation for putting his mind to use. A child with an unusually advanced intellect must have been too much for them to bother taking care of. Endless curiosity, an insatiable thirst for knowledge... he fast outstripped them.

By the time he was eight, he'd rather forgotten all about them and was already being molded into Watari's protege.

Watari never disclosed to him just how much his parents had collected when they'd dumped him off. He always just shook his head and said he didn't remember. On one, rare occasion, he'd said quietly that worth could not be measured in numbers and the amount was something L should never concern himself with.

L shrugged his shoulders, shaking off the reminiscences as if they were pesky insects. Watari was right. He needn't concern himself with such trivial things. However, his parents' shortsightedness in regards to money irked him remarkably. They could have made a killing if they had merely taken a cut from every case he solved instead of taking an upfront lump sum. But then, he supposed, they still might have had to face the child they'd abandoned.

The gap between himself and Watari had widened. L shuffled more hurriedly to catch up.

They ascended the stairs that both he and Wedy had taken to using after Light had been moved here. The stairs did not make Watari out of breath, for which L was grateful. He knew that eventually, he would be able to detect signs of aging, slowing, and wearing down in his benefactor; every day that passed without such signs forestalled the heavy weight of worry that threatened to fall upon him the moment they became reality.

It bothered him that he had to deceive Watari.

It bothered him that events were conspiring to align him against the man he had respected and looked up to for most of his life, while allying him with the person that had offered him both the greatest torment and the deepest comfort he'd ever experienced. He didn't like how it came down to a choice between the man who had cared for, supported, and raised him, and the boy who ripped him up and tore him down - the boy whom he could no longer live without.

Why must anyone make a choice such as this?

He did not give his loyalties lightly, but here he was, caught in the middle. His parental figure ascended the steps ahead of him like a barrier between him and the world, ready to protect him from being hurt, each step taking him closer to the threat he believed lay in wait to destroy L. His steady steps brought him closer to the lover L had had the misjudgment to have taken, and here L was, conspiring against the older man. He didn't deserve Watari's trust. Not when he had committed to ruining himself with Light, if that was what became of him. He didn't need a savior. He didn't want what was best for him. But he couldn't allow Watari to be caught in the crossfire for him, and he couldn't allow Watari to destroy the tenuous balance that he and Light had achieved.

Where lay the fiercer loyalty?

He trudged up the stairs, gained the landing, turned the corner, then did it again.

Light's hand wrapped around his still beating heart... Broken or twisted as the brunette was or may be... L knew there was no escaping him now. Every grievous wrong, every hurt, every dark little act that made his mind rebel simply drilled it into him further.

Light had his heart.

Light had the power to destroy him.

(...but is the reverse true?)

The game they played was a game of 'if'. Kira and the Kira-esque personality had been the strongest players. Pushing. Pushing. Testing limits. Flirting with the idea of bringing everything down around them, just to hear the quality of the shattering.

((I dare you... You dare me...))

L didn't believe that even those two personalities were bent on causing as much trouble as they could, to the point of compromising themselves... but there were times where they seemed inclined to try, just to see what L would do. It was so dangerous.

Watari held the heavy door open for him at the top of the flight. L nodded his thanks and his acknowledgement that he was now being given the lead.

The older man trailed behind him now as he made his was to Light's room. Uncomfortably enough, he recalled a similar time, only it was Light that followed close behind him, and it was Watari that lay in ambush. He did not like to think on that, the sound of the taser or the sound of Light crumpling to the floor. Even more than those things, he did not want to dwell on the acrid taste of betrayal as he'd looked upon the fruits of his handiwork, nor the trusting, confused look on the brunette's face before he'd slipped out of consciousness.

But this was not the same thing. There was no ambush this time, and no betrayal except for L's wish to pull the wool over the older man's eyes. No, he thought disparagingly. No betrayal, except for the lies...

Lies, omissions, and the greater lies that will follow.

Was there a way to save Wammy's House without the notebook? If there were, he would dearly love to know what it was. But selfishness, fear and power had rooted too deeply within the organization that ran it. Purging it might be the only answer. Once routed, Watari could control and put things back to rights.

...If that was even what he wanted. For there had to be an original reason that his mentor had left the institution in the hands of others. Was it really only so he could train a dark-haired orphan to harness his mind and become a great detective, useful in supporting a home for others like himself? Or had the burden been to great, causing the man to defect, just as his own parents had done with him?

L stopped in front of the hotel room door, frowning deeply. The plausible parallel between Watari and his absent parents rankled. Was his trust in the older man all these years misplaced? Was Watari truly on his side, or was L simply convenient?

"Sir?"

This doubt.

Searching for reasons to fault... to blame and criticize. The fact that I am susceptible just now, at this juncture, just proves that my trust is not unwavering, and lies more firmly with my lover than with my 'parent'.

Be it justified or not, it is Light that I will fight to keep with me at any cost.

There were a dozen things that L wanted to ask Watari then. How much did my parents sell me for? Why did you leave Wammy's House? If you could, would you go back to run it? These were foremost but he didn't dare enter in those lines of questioning. They were the sorts of things you asked when you were walking into a battle zone, or when the future was uncertain. This was neither of those things, and pursuing it would only make Watari suspicious. This was merely a chat (no, not even an interrogation), with the sole purpose of proving that Light was no longer Kira. Light was perfectly up to that, and his stance on killing would pave the way to the disclosure of his lost memories. Watari would see it.

"I apologize, Watari. My mind was elsewhere."

"May I ask the subject matter?"

"My parents, for some reason." L decided to be partially honest. "I can't say that I spared them more than a passing thought in these past years. I don't see why I should now. You have been a far more capable guardian than they ever could have hoped to be."

Watari put a hand on his shoulder. It was a mute acceptance of words L had never before spoken.

L took a shallow breath, mindful of the hand on his shoulder. "I suppose it would be rather trite to ask you to go easy on him, considering how he has treated you in the past?"

"I will keep in mind what you've said about his mental condition, and will be as easy on him as he allows. For your sake, I hope that what you've told me is true. The world doesn't need Kira, and neither do you."

The hand on L's shoulder squeezed lightly then released him as L rolled the false-sounding statement in his head.

The world doesn't need Kira?

But what if it did?

And who would it be that would make that sacrifice or bear that heavy crown?

The door gave way beneath L's hand, a sudden weariness stealing over him.

Light had been perfect. Light had assumed that throne and it was only L that had taken him down from it. Fraying mind or not, Light had made himself the sacrifice and had been bearing it well, unraveling in the service of the new world he struggled to create. But L wasn't willing to let him destroy himself for the sake of that world. He was too precious for that. Precious and broken, torn up and spit out by that which he tried to save.

It didn't matter that Light had chosen to see himself as a god of that new world. It would have been the only palpable reward to keep him going. And perhaps the brunette had realized that, and the folly of it all, and that was why he had allowed L to force him out of it.

L paused before putting the key in the double-sided deadbolt that safeguarded Light. Would he be asleep right now? He seemed to find solace in that after switching personalities. Either way, he would need to be awake for this. L regretted not being able to offer any sort of warning for this surprise visit, but there was nothing to be done. The bolt slid back as he turned the key. He could apologize later for the intrusion. At least Light had known to expect it at some point.

He swung the door partway open, peering inside to see if Light's Kira-like personality had vented its frustration or anger upon the room (it hadn't) and locating the brunette's position. He was laying on the bed, hands folded over his stomach, his breathing even and deep.

L looked back at Watari, and mouthed, "I guess he's asleep," with a small shrug. Watari indicated that he go wake him up. L shrugged again, having expected the response.

He shuffled over to the bed, curious as to why Light was wearing one of his own white, scoop-necked sweaters. Between that and his sleep-disheveled hair he looked quite young and adorable. L smiled faintly and sat on the edge, leaning over to to rouse him. "Light," he said softly, "Watari wanted to speak with you."

Amber eyes slowly opened, startlingly clear for one who had just been awoken. L stared at him a few moments, expression flattening, trying to place something which seemed to be amiss.

He felt his eyes widen and his lips compress in a thin line when it dawned on him. In turn, Light's eyes glowed with amusement and a sharp, smug smile spread across his face. L fought the urge to look behind him at Watari, as unease shot through him, and instead just hoped that his back blocked Light from sight.

This was the last thing he needed.

"I wasn't asleep," the Kira-like version of Light said softly, almost indulgently. Gold eyes watched him for reaction, like a vulture searching for signs of weakness as he prodded. Hungry. An articulate hand reached to touch his face. So gentle, but it burned with intent. "I was waiting for you."

Waiting...

Had Light never regained control? It had been hours...

L swallowed against the slightly frantic scrabbling that welled in his chest. How destructive was this Light feeling? How far would he go? Did he understand what was at stake here, or was he blinded by the desire to get even?

Abort.

Abort this attempt.

L straightened up and turned to look at Watari, mask firmly in place. "He seems a little out of it - perhaps we should come back at another time. He has not been sleeping very well--"

"I'm fine," a faint, rich voice said, challenging his escape. It was exactly the tone that could be expected from someone who was groggy and overwhelmed but trying to persevere.

Don't!

L turned back, giving Light a warning glare, to which the brunette responded with glee filling his eyes. You want me to stay silent? he seemed to say. L could not nod, Watari would question him about it later, so he settled for intensifying his glare.

"It's just a few questions, right, Ryuuzaki?" Light said in that thready, exhausted voice, his face at odds with the act as stared back at L. Smug. Infuriatingly arrogant and self-satisfied. "I'll manage."

L resented Light for the placating hand that patted his thigh with affected weakness, purposefully in line of Watari so that the other man could see the closeness it belied. His mentor coughed pointedly, furthering L's mortification at such behavior and making him clench his hands into fists. Light was just solidifying the evidence of just how intimate their relationship might be, and it was details like that which L would have preferred to keep undisclosed, especially now when his own judgment was being assessed just as thoroughly as the brunette's mental state.

Stop it, he mouthed.

Red becomes you, Light responded just as silently.

L stood abruptly and paced to the other side of the room. "I didn't mean to be in your way, Watari, I apologize," he said as cover. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Light sit up and slide clumsily backwards to use the pillows as a backrest. L watched him like a hawk, waiting to see signs of that dark personality seeping through the nearly flawless act, his ears strained to catch faults in his voice as Watari began to question him.

He couldn't say later what specific questions Watari actually asked.

His entire being was focused on Light, catching the flickers of darkness in those eyes, the ghosts of malicious smiles haunting those lips. Something in him felt strained, as if it were working to supplement Light's cover and mend the tiny gaps which seemed to him as large as gaping holes. Was it his imagination that they were growing larger? He twitched his eyes towards Watari. Nothing had changed there. The older man was speaking and listening with great concentration, cautious, not alarmed.

"What are your thoughts on the second Kira?" Watari asked the brunette.

L jumped slightly as sound suddenly returned to him and the question itself zinged his worn nerves. His eyes whipped to the boy on the bed and he was aghast to see the upturned corner of that mouth. Light's eyes were turned down, pensively it seemed, but L knew it was to cover the actual emotion in his eyes - the amusement that would leak from them like blood from a wound. "The second Kira?" Light asked, not fully masking the traces of it that were seeping into his voice.

Is he losing it? Is this where the act decays and everything is revealed?

L's eyes flicked between them. Back and forth. His muscles tensed, readying for action. Of what kind, he did not know.

"Actually, Ryuuzaki and I are at a bit of a disagreement on that." Gold eyes caught his, playing with him. L fought his expression into a loosely blank one. A second later, he felt the older man's eyes on him.

"That we disagree on certain things is nothing new, Yagami-kun."

"But don't you find it to be ironic?" Light asked. "The second Kira caused much less harm, and was responsible for far less murders than Kira, and yet who is it that earned your greater disdain?"

"Why should that matter?" Watari asked, sensing something beyond the immediate words.

"It doesn't," L ground out. "It is merely a point of contention."

Light smiled pleasantly, a disguise for the darker baring of teeth that itched to be loose upon his face. He watched L as Watari asked him to clarify.

L tried to be patient. He was twitching. What are you doing, Light? "I found the second Kira to be far more mentally unstable, as was evidenced by his erratic behavior and his chosen victims. He would have been the greater long-term threat."

"Oh?" Light made himself look the picture of prim dejection. "And here I thought you might have at least mentioned the abduction. I didn't exactly enjoy that, you know."

Bastard! Calling attention to...

"Light-kun, are you trying to say that L is biased? That he saw the second Kira as more of a threat than the first merely because he had abducted you?"

L bit his lip. He could see where Watari was going to take this. Watari already knew he'd been bent out of shape at Light's disappearance, that was nothing new, but...

"..." Light crossed his arms over his chest and looked away as if he were pouting.

"Light-kun, are you aware of any reason the second Kira might have had in abducting you of all people?"

Damn. This is what he thought Watari was getting at, but how would Light deflect it? He'd set it up so poorly while trying to make L squirm with insinuation. To imply that he viewed Kira favorably... it only gave more fuel to the fire of suspicion Watari already harbored. And to go so far as to bring up his treatment in Mikami's hands, especially when L had been trying to avoid that...

"Watari-san," Light's voice had dropped increments lower than his previous tone. "Would you like me to say that I am Kira? Would that put your mind to rest?"

Watari's shoulders stiffened slightly.

L tasted blood suddenly as he bit through his lip.

"That's the only reason, isn't it? Killers are drawn to killers... For what other reason would the second Kira come after me. He must have thought to join forces, right?" Light's voice sounded a little wild, unsteady. Was this still an act? "But tell me, Watari, might there not have been some other reason? Because I can't seem to fathom myself as Kira while being confined to another man's bed in chains, can you?"

Watari did not speak for several minutes. None of them did.

"Besides," Light said darkly, "I'd never even seen the man before, yet he certainly seemed to know me."

Watari got up from his chair and crossed the floor to L, leaning to speak near his ear so as not to be overheard. "I think that's enough for today. He doesn't seem to be like he was... certainly I've never hear him utter even the possibility of being Kira when we were sure he was. However, I think that his fluctuating expression of emotion is indicative of the instability you spoke of."

L nodded, keeping his gaze lowered so that he did not see Light nor meet Watari's eyes. "It has been difficult at times, but there has been improvement."

"I don't think it wise to press him further right now."

L looked up and saw that Watari was watching Light, who now had his arms curled around himself and was lying with his back to them.

Had that been a true outburst then?

"L, I'll be going. Maybe you should stay with him a little while though."

"Ah," L assented, pulling his eyes from Light with a frown. Was it possible the brunette had switched to his more congenial self during the coarse of the questioning? Was it a headache he was suffering now? "I'll let you out."

They walked to the door, L unlocking the deadbolt with his key and allowing the older man through. When Watari had crossed the common area to the main door, letting himself out into the hallway, L relocked the door and slipped the key back into his pocket.

He was startled to see Light sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him. Oh, he had most certainly not changed at all from the moment he'd entered the room. That gaze ran up and down his body, assessing, drawing out the unease that had been temporarily banished by his worry for the brunette. He could feel it now, crawling up along his skin.

"I know you're hiding things," Light said lazily, rising from the bed. "Tell me."

That purposeful stride was unsettling. "I'll come back when you're you." L tossed out, fumbling for the key to let himself out.

A well-formed hand planted itself against the door in front of him. L swallowed, feeling the heat of Light's body behind him. "I'll tell you what I think," Light said. His voice was deceptively cavalier. "I think you are trying to push me out of him so that you can feel secure in moving out of this place." Breath against his ear. The brush of lips. "I think you're hiding things from me, and your mentor."

L shrugged him off and moved away, giving him his most deadpan expression. "What are you talking about?" His arms were crossing over his chest, unbidden.

"You wanted to go to England previously - to take me with you," Light prompted. "What business do you have there?"

"It is needless to reveal such things to you."

Light laughed, and his voice regained its slightly mocking sound, abandoning the casual questioning tone it had adopted previously, "Oh, L, it is not that simple. You may be waiting for me to disappear, but I don't think you have the luxury of waiting until that happens. If it happens."

L frowned at him, rubbing his arms as a chill coasted through him. "What are you trying to say?"

"I think I've proven that I can be cooperative." That voice was cajoling now, affecting an air of persuasion yet carrying the sharp undertone of a lurking threat.

---

Light paused to watch L's eyes cloud over and smiled at the shadow that crossed his face. "Wouldn't it be beneficial to have me well-informed, and willing to play along?"

"I have no need to humor you," L said tightly. "If anything, you'll sabotage me the first opportunity you get."

Light made a show of examining his nails. "I don't know if I would stand by that assessment. There was plenty I might have said just now to the old man, but you'll note that I refrained." He met L's eyes and smiled once more. "I can be an anchor around your neck if I so choose, but I don't believe that is something your plans would survive."

Reluctantly, he muttered, "What do you propose?"

Light moved purposely towards L, noting that L's hand moved stealthily to one of his pockets. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said amiably. "Not unless you weren't planning to hear me out."

L's hand hesitantly dropped to his side, abandoning the retrieval of what Light suspected to be one of those nasty little tasers.

"Hmm," he said, reaching up to touch L's distrustful, pinched face. He savored the flinch as their skin made contact. "What do I require in order to be a helpful little lapdog?" He patted L's cheek disparagingly. Black eyes were fixed on him, wide, as if L were forcing himself not to bolt. "Just give me what I want every once in a while." Give me access to you.

"No."

"Don't be stubborn," Light said sharply, his fisted hand striking the wall behind the dark-haired boy's head. L's insubordination was infuriating at times. "I'm willing to be flexible."

"I'm not being stubborn," L ground out. "You are intolerable!"

"It comes to mind that I would make a better ally in your little plan than he would."

"You don't know anything."

"Not until you tell me, true, but I can see in your eyes that it is something you find to be a heavy task, and one that you judge yourself for rather strictly. Do you think that other part of me won't judge you even more harshly? I am open to seeing death as a necessity. He is not."

L sagged against the wall, a crease forming between his eyes. "It wouldn't be such a problem if you didn't exist."

"You think so?" he asked with a lilting, nearly caressing tone. "I believe the reason I'm here is because he can't handle it. Come now, L, we can trust each other. We both want the same things, after all."

"We seem to differ on the matter of closeness. I want you nowhere near me."

"Now, that's not true." Light smiled indulgently. "But I will not argue the matter. I am prepared to be agreeable, as I've said. I will defer to your spoken wishes, within reason, and will not act beyond that. Meet me in the middle, L." He leaned down, resting his cheek against the other boy's and whispered into his ear. "Stop running from me."

L shuddered, and tried to push him away. Light gave way, but only a fraction.

"You have some nerve after the things you're wont to say to me."

"I've been harsh, I'll admit," Light ceded. "Jealousy does that. I don't like how you've decided so easily to discard me for a weaker version, nor how you so dismissively wait for me to disappear."

L's eyes warily met his. "You said yourself that you are merely a part of him."

"Merely," Light scoffed. "Yes, well, a part nonetheless, and I do not want to disappear back into anonymity. Not when he's getting everything I want. It doesn't seem fair, does it? Wouldn't anyone feel vengeful over such a thing? Wouldn't anyone want to do what they could to divert that behavior?" He sidled closer. "I wanted to hurt you, L." The syllable of the detective's name rolled sensually over his tongue. "But I don't have to be so cruel," he said softly. "It's in your hands. It's only when you defy me that I stop playing nice."

He sensed the deliberation in L, the weakening resolve, the uncertainty, and the stifled anger.

He nuzzled L's neck. "Appease me, and we will both profit from it. Maybe I'll even willingly let him put me back in my box."

"There will be no second chances."

Oh, the fragile strength of those words. It was delicious. That such a pact of words is what L might put his trust in. He had no intentions of dropping out now, of losing access to this delightful being in front of him. The taste of his flesh felt so right between his teeth, his eyes clenched shut and the trembling of his body was too perfect. Light began dissecting him thread by thread, unraveling L's tenacity and authority with the speed of a weaving spider. Mine. You're mine.

But for now he had to play the line between what L wouldn't allow and what L would actually punish him for. Surely he could prove to L that he wasn't so much of a danger that he must be fled at all costs... Though he dearly loved that he could inspire such breath-halting anxiety in the other boy, that only he could make those dark, beautiful eyes shimmer with trepidation and anticipation. L could deny it all he wanted. Sweetness and tenderness were not what undid him; it was this lust that threatened to burn and destroy that he was drawn to.

He pulled on the sleeve of L's shirt, exposing the curve of his shoulder to his mouth.

L tensed beneath him and Light could feel his mind whirring with thoughts of resistance. He broke them with each caress of lips on skin, and each resulting shudder of L's frame.

"W-why are you wearing one of my shirts?" L asked palely.

"It smells like you, and feels like you... It was the closest I could get to being inside of you after you ran from me."

"D-don't say things like that!" L looked disturbed, but there was a flush on his porcelain cheeks.

"But I desire you, L," he murmured, laying kisses upon his lips, choosing words that would exacerbate the inner battle that L so often fought. "I crave you."

"Stop it."

L's breathing was accelerated. He was caught somewhere between distress and desire. He was never more beautiful than this. Light tilted his face up and kissed him, devouring his hesitant mouth. It really wasn't fair that L thought to reject him - all for what he felt was the 'right' personality. He hated the feeling of being pushed back and having that other version come to the fore. And nearly crying that time, please. It was beyond pathetic. L needed someone aggressive, who would pull the pleasure from him until he was weak and shaking from it. He needed options to be taken out of his hands so that he could stop thinking.

Maybe he wouldn't be so adamant about this if his weaker version would give in to his darker impulses. Like earlier... it was nearly enough. He could be content with even that. But then there had been a weakening. As soon as L had challenged his other version, he'd backed down, been contrite. I had no choice but to set that right, to gain the upper hand by whatever means.

Teru was a good card for leverage. Unfortunately, the weaker personality was still too sentient and had pushed him out again at the pivotal moment.

But if niceties were what L thought he wanted... he could play along. He'd force himself to play along... at least for a little while.

"OW! Light! I said, stop!"

Light realized he had let his thinking distract himself a little too much. While thinking of holding back, he had given in and marked L's pretty skin again. Oops.

He'd only broken it a little though, and L's face wasn't flushed solely from anger. Better to play things safe, however. He pretended to be like the weaker version of himself and said, "Ryuuzaki, I'm sorry," pulling back at the same time. It sounded quite genuine to even his own ears, though L seemed not to think so.

L dragged his shirt back over his shoulder, glowering darkly. "This is why I said I don't want you near me. You don't know how to stop."

"It was unintentional."

"That's what you said last time!"

"Oh? But last time wasn't really me, was it?"

L glared impotently and looked away.

Light smiled, pleased that he had been able to smack L with that. So maybe the weaker part isn't as weak as you think, nor as perfect as you wish. L had been rather upset with how rough things had been, though rough seemed too strong a word. And it wasn't my fault at all, was it. Haha. Perhaps he could stand to blend back in with that part. If anything, it would prevent L from idealizing one over the other, wouldn't it? But first things first...

"I'll refrain from anything further as a show of my sincerest regret at hurting you," Light said. Though that reddened mark on your neck suits your pale skin so well, he thought admiringly. "In exchange, I would like you to tell me what you have been keeping a secret from everyone."

L ducked around him, a hand clapped over the mark on his neck. "I don't feel like it."

"So? Get over it." If he could stop violating L when he didn't didn't feel like stopping, L could damn well make himself talk. Talking should be a damn sight easier, anyway.

"Get over yourself! What kind of half-assed apology was that anyway? If you stopped because you were sorry, that's one thing, but than you go and use that as a bargaining chip. I'm not an idiot."

"It was, perhaps, a poor choice of words." Sometimes it was annoying that L was so perceptive. It didn't let him get away with much.

"Although maybe it was stupid of me to even consider your offer," L muttered to himself.

Anger prickled through Light like an oncoming storm. "What did you say?" He couldn't possibly be reconsidering now. Nothing had changed. He could still ruin things for L if he wanted, and his request had not been unreasonable in the first place - just skin and the divulging of secrets. Well, skin and a good deal more. Why couldn't he get enough of L even when the dark-haired detective could be so infuriating?

"You're unpredictible, violent, and only cooperative when it suits you." Scorn marked his pale features and deep black eyes.

"You're making me angry, L." Few things rivaled his hatred of being dismissed. Very few things... but they included unpredictability in a situation, and not having the upper hand.

"Get over it," L flung back at him as he paced. "I've been pissed off and at the end of my rope for months."

Light struggled with the urge to knock his hand across that impudent little mouth. He should let that pass in the spirit of reconciliation, shouldn't he? L was letting off steam. In a completely unforgivable manner, but he could make himself not react, couldn't he? Light gritted his teeth.

"I must've been out of my mind to think you could help me. If anything, you'll be the thing that finally strangles me."

"I could strangle you now," Light said darkly, stepping towards him. "I wouldn't want to disappoint, after all."

"Don't come any closer," L warned, digging his hand into his pocket.

"Or what?" Light sneered, taking another step and another.

L backed up, but his face was hard. He pulled the compact stun gun out of his pocket, ready to use it.

"A taser?" Light asked in mock delight. "Oh, you shouldn't have." He lunged forward before he finished speaking and heard the sizzling crack of the taser as he dodged its metal prongs and twisted L's arm behind his back. Shoving L onto the mattress, face first, he hiked L's arm into an increasingly uncomfortable position until his grip on the taser loosened. "You really shouldn't have," he said as he took the device.

L let out a frustrated noise. His free arm was pinned beneath him, and he could not strike out at Light with his legs, as the brunette was out of range, sitting on his hips.

"Now, L," Light said in mock pleasantry, "I'm sure you'll come to love these little things as much as I do, given the proper acquaintance." He held the taser close to L's face, forcing him to strain backwards to gain even a little distance from it. "What do you say?" His thumb hovered threateningly over the button.

L shut his eyes tight, as if to protect them. "Please, don't," he said shortly.

"Oh, but you seemed to think it was fine to use this on me...rather hypocritical of you, L." He paused. "Or did you merely mean not in the face?"

L shook his head minutely.

"Open your eyes."

L's breathing thinned, but he did not comply.

"Open them!" he barked out.

Warily, one eye cracked open, than the other.

"Look at me, and tell me just who is in control here," Light demanded, applying pressure to L's folded back arm until he got an answer.

"Y-you are," L gasped out, wincing.

"That's right, and I am done playing games. I'll not allow you to keep me caged like some kind of animal. You are going to let me walk out of here--"

"I can't do that--"

"Don't interrupt me," Light snapped, shoving the taser against L's cheek. "Do you understand?"

L nodded weakly, desperation playing across his face. It placated Light somewhat to see that.

"Now, you are going to tell me all about what you've been hiding, piece by detailed piece, leaving nothing out. If I sense that you are holding back or lying, I will use this on you. I would also suggest that you maintain eye contact, or my hand just might slip. It is such an easily pressed button, I would hate for that to happen accidentally."

L nodded again, then said, "My arm... hurts, can you..."

"Oh, this?" Light hiked L's arm up another notch, causing him to let out a muffled cry of pain. "I suggest you start talking fast, then maybe I'll consider doing something about it."

"Watari is... Quillish Wammy..."

Light eased the hold on L's arm quite a bit. He'd been intending to anyway, but if he wanted to teach L how to behave properly, he couldn't appear to reward bad behavior.

L, wisely, did not thank him for the reprieve. If he had, Light would have had to backtrack, and he was sure L's arm was already feeling quite strained.

"Go on."

"He founded... Wammy House, where I..." L paused here, strangely enough, his gaze seeming to have gone inward.

"Where what?" Light prompted.

"It's a place for kids of promising intellect..." L said, changing tracks. "A sort of institution of higher learning, capable of meeting the needs that normal schools cannot."

"That wasn't what you were going to say a moment ago."

"It is," L said stubbornly.

"Don't try my patience. I'd rather not break your arm for such a minor reason, would you?"

L looked away.

"You're right," Light said, "The taser requires much less effort on my part." He shoved the device against L's back.

"Wait!"

Light paused. "Yes?"

"'Where I grew up'. That's what I was going to say."

"That's it?"

L dropped his head onto the mattress, letting out a muffled, "Yes."

Light wasn't sure why such a thing would be so hard to admit, or why L would be loathe to disclose such a seemingly insignificant piece of information. It made him feel uncomfortable, more so than anything thus far could have or should have. As such, he allowed L to break his rule about eye contact without a word. "Where are the parents of these children?"

"Some used to visit, but that was before."

"What about yours?"

There was that tensing again.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"And I don't want to taser you," Light said quietly. "Just tell me, Ryuuzaki." He was slightly surprised in his own change in demeanor, unplanned as it was. L surprised him further by responding.

"They dumped me off there as a kid. I don't know much more than the fact that I was unwanted." He laughed a little. "That and... they accepted a sum of money for it."

"Watari paid them for you?"

"Yes. They brought me there and had me take the assessment tests before ever bringing it up. I guess Watari felt I would be wasted wherever else they decided to leave me. Maybe he saw the potential I had for making the institution money when I got older, I don't know."

Light chewed distractedly on the inside of his cheek. He was still taken aback by L being so forthcoming all of a sudden. Was being 'nice' really the way to get inside him? Or was this just something so bottled up, that once he began speaking, he was bound to divulge everything?

"Both of my arms hurt," L said sullenly, testing.

"I'm sorry. But I need you to tell me what all of this has to do with anything, and what you are planning to do. If I let you up, I doubt I'll hear the rest of it."

"I was thinking of burning the place down and killing everyone inside."

Light felt his eyebrows raise. "Why?" It seemed a little odd, since it was the place L had grown up in.

"Ah, so it is still you," L mumbled to himself. "I wasn't sure."

Light frowned. "Hey. Look at me."

L turned his head and looked up at him through messy jags of black hair.

"You couldn't tell, so you test me by seeing if a homicidal binge puts me off? That's a rather rude way of doing things."

"Ah. Tactless, perhaps?"

"Is that really the only way you can tell us apart??"

L thought about it a moment. "Other than the fact that one of you condones killing and the other does not... I suppose the fact that you were neither molesting me nor injuring me threw me off."

Light scoffed. "If you miss any of the above, I'd be glad to--"

"No! That's quite alright. In fact, letting me up might be a great idea."

Light ignored him and his diversion tactic. "You are planning to kill people though, aren't you? Why and how?"

"...I'm not sure yet. I may have to. It's... the organization that grew in Watari's absence. At first it was merely a way to run the facility, but they've made it into a sort of prison or laboratory. They no longer let the kids have contact with the outside world. I've heard things though, recently the situation has gotten even worse. And you..."

"What about me?" He wasn't sure he was following L's disjointed explanation.

"You've had an effect as well. They've been questioning my judgement for a while now. If it were ever found out that you were alive... that Kira was alive..."

"You said yourself that I wasn't Kira anymore. Why should that matter?"

"You, Watari and I are the only ones who know that you didn't die. If they found out what an elaborate lie that was, I'm done. They don't trust me as it is. They'll come for me and lock me up somewhere in Wammy's, if not worse. You... I think they would kill you on sight."

Light had to admit, that came as quite a shock. His mouth felt rather dry. "Do you trust Watari?"

"It's complicated. I do, and I don't. He seems to think that The Board can be swayed, but I know better. I've felt them closing in for some time now. They don't like me as I am out of their immediate grasp, and they've even accused me of fabricating the second Kira entirely. They are just waiting for an excuse to clip my wings. They would most likely keep me alive so that I can keep working and making them money. Watari is afraid that my involvement with you will tip the balance. He doesn't trust you at all. Nor should he."

Light tried not to let that last bit chafe. "So his questioning earlier...?"

"Assessing a threat. If he saw that you were no longer Kira, and had even lost your memories of it, in his eyes that makes you innocent. It robs him of his standing to... put an end to the current situation."

"If he knew that you'd used the death note..."

"I don't know what his moral obligation would have him do. I'd probably be locked up in prison for it, crushed under the shame of having become like the very criminal I had terminated. Ironic, isn't it?"

Light stared down at him. "Not entirely. I seem to recall you telling me one night, soon after I joined the investigation, that you did not necessarily think that what Kira was doing was wrong."

"A moment of weakness. Killing is wrong."

"You're considering using it again, aren't you?"

"Yes. Though if I can find an alternative, yet equally effective method of achieving my goal..."

"So that's why you told me everything, about being Kira, and the death god. You wanted all cards on the table because you wanted my opinion."

"Well, not yours per se, I assumed you would be all for the killing."

"Just because it doesn't bother me doesn't mean I advocate it above rationality, Ryuuzaki."

"Would it be rational now to ask you to let me up? I do believe you have enough dirt on me to keep me from doing whatever it is you wanted to keep me from doing."

Light considered this. "All right, but the taser is mine."

"Fine, fine, just let me up."

Light released his arm and swung off of him. L's arm flopped to his side with a muttered 'ow'.

---

L, with effort, rolled into a sitting position, wincing as pins and needles flared down both of his arms. He glared at Light as he rubbed them.

Light appeared unruffled and merely sat watching him.

L was confused at the brunette's mixed behavior. He almost seemed like the rational version of himself at this point, though he was not appalled at the thought of killing people, as he should have been. Not only that, the Kira-like Light tended to always call him L, not Ryuuzaki as he had been. The cues he used to distinguish the two personalities were mixing and obliterating. As he'd said, if the Kira-esque personality was not being aggressive, domineering, or advocating death, it was really rather difficult to tell them apart.

"Why are you giving me that look?" Light asked.

"What look?"

"Like I'm something under a microscope that you are busily trying to classify."

"I'm not sure that it would be helpful to--" He stopped. Light was giving him that pointed look. Confusing cues or not, the brunette still had possession of the taser, and L's arms were only just starting to acclimate to increased bloodflow. "Ah... well, you just seem a little different. It's nothing."

"Different how?"

"More... reasonable, perhaps?"

"Idiot. I'm always reasonable."

"Ok then, less glinty and less likely to tear me into tiny pieces."

"Glinty?" Light raised an eyebrow.

"It's something you do with your eyes..." L trailed off, feeling somewhat foolish and too aware of Light's growing amusement. "Oh, never mind. I told you it was nothing."

He concentrated on the hopeful thought that Light was potentially finding some sort of equilibrium, and that that was the cause of the blurring between personalities. What a joy that would be. He was getting too old for this sort of manhandling. The throbbing at the side of his neck reminded him of the injury he'd sustained earlier when Light had tried to take a bite out of him. Great. Turtlenecks again? They were so constricting. He got up and started rummaging through the closet.

"What are you doing?" Light asked in a stiff tone.

"Changing. You've rendered it impossible for me to be seen in my normal attire." L pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor, having located a charcoal colored turtleneck hanging deep in the back of the closet.

"Were you planning on going somewhere?"

L stiffened as something cold and hard pressed into his bare back. The taser. "I was thinking to, yes."

"And leave me all alone?" Light's lips brushed against his bare shoulder, making him shiver. "I wouldn't advise that."

"But I have to leave sometime, and there are...things..." A hot mouth was exploring the column of his throat, distracting him from the art of forming words. "Things that...." What was it about the sensitivity of one's neck seeming directly correlated to the stability of one's legs? "...I have to take care of - ow!" Light had rediscovered abused flesh and was picking up where he left off. "Ow, stop," he said, trying to wriggle away, but Light held him fast, wrapping arms around him and tilting his head back with the hand that held the taser. The suction of his mouth and caresses of his tongue both hurt and felt wrongfully good.

"Did you forget our agreement so soon, L?" Light spoke in his ear. "The taser's mine, you're mine, and you are not setting foot outside of this room without me."

"I don't... recall agreeing to all of that."

"I assure you, you did."

L gathered himself for his reply, ignoring (trying to) the hand brushing down his stomach in increasingly lower concentric circles. "The taser is on loan, I belong to no one, and even if you leave this room, there is nowhere you can go."

"You are mine, and you know it. And I will go outside, whether you like it or not. Being trapped inside these damn hotels is enough to make one go mad."

"You did not appear to enjoy the last disguise we concocted to keep you from being recognized."

"If you are referring to that dreadful span of time during which you had me dress like a woman, and even entertaining the thought of suggesting that again, I will gladly use this on you right now," Light pressed the taser under his chin, "and continue using it until you begin foaming at the mouth or your testicles fall off, whichever happens first."

"Right...Well, rest assured if I were going to mention something to that effect, I most certainly won't now."

"Teru seemed wildly successful with his disguise, and I believe that I was allowed to maintain my gender. Just a thought."

"I wish you would call him Mikami," L grumbled, forgetting the consistent position of the taser for a moment as his irritation on the matter finally broke through his patience. It had been irking him this entire time, to hear the man's given name be the only thing Light referred to him by. It was too intimate sounding, and L could admit, it made him jealous. "It's always Teru this, and Teru that..."

"Can I help it if that was the only name he gave me?"

"I told you his other name," L insisted. "You have to be doing it on purpose."

"Are you implying that killing him was not enough to slay your jealousy?"

"Get this thing out of my face," L snapped, referring to the taser. Admitting he was jealous in the privacy of his own mind was one thing. Being teased about it by a twisted, sadistic psycho with a stun gun was quite another.

"Say please."

"I think I hate you."

"Too late to lie about that now, Ryuuzaki," Light crooned his false name at him sweetly, and L could hear the leer in it.

L considered mocking him about how good his legs looked in heels and a skirt, not to mention the trail of admirers he'd gained on many of their outings, but wasn't quite sure Light had been joking about using the taser. He was rather foul-tempered about the whole affair even on a good, sane day.

"Fine," L said sarcastically, "I love you so much I can't stand it - let me go."

Light let him go, but roughly shoved him against the wall. "Are you mocking me?" he asked coldly, hand firmly against L's throat.

L blinked at him, wide-eyed. "N-no." His hands moved up to try and dislodge Light's, but his grip was awfully solid. I'm sarcastic all the time. Why would that particular... No... Could it be that... "Are... are you trying to tell me that that horrible confession you gave me when Misa was still alive was actually true?"

Light's face was as closed and expressionless as a stone sentinel. He stared at L as if he were an offensive little bug crushed under his shoe. L got the impression Light was trying to intimidate him out of wanting an answer.

Or what about the more recent instance... when Light had been taunting him over killing Mikami for him? 'I love you, Ryuuzaki,' he'd sneered. 'Would you throw me away so easily?' It seemed like eons ago, that that exchange had happened, that Light had been so hatefully throwing things in his face. He hadn't stopped to wonder if he meant it. It seemed too ludicrous an idea to even entertain. He'd assumed it was said out of spite, just like the time before.

He narrowed his eyes at Light, and Light did the same.

"If it is true, you have a funny way of showing it," L said dryly, wishing the feral light would die down in those amber eyes.

How many times have I thought of it as love? Crushing, yes, maiming, certainly... but it is so much more like a spoiled child that is being possessive over a toy that I never really considered it as fitting the labels I gave it. Love. It was more a sort of macabre humor that I ever called it such a thing.

"Think what you like," Light said finally, releasing him.

Curiously, Light avoided his eyes then, crossing the room towards the bathroom. "Where are you going?" L asked, perplexed. I thought he was hell-bent on leaving the room? "Didn't you want to--"

"Shower," Light said shortly. "Do what you like."

The door swung shut, and promptly, L could hear the sound of running water.

I must have hit a nerve...

For Light to so suddenly change gears like that, to do a complete 180...

L resumed the donning of the charcoal colored turtleneck, his mind still refusing to wrap itself around the concept that Light might in fact really... care. He couldn't even say it properly in his head, that was how foreign the idea was. That Light, as fragmented and cruel as he could be... might actually... love him.

If he did... at what point had he become aware of it? Before he gave up the death note, of that, L was certain. It was one of the few times he could really believe the brunette cared. And yet, cruelty continued. The hurting continued. Just what did the word love mean to someone like Light anyway?

To L, it meant caring, trust, and self-sacrifice.

What did it mean to Light past possession?

At one point in time, L would have felt relieved to know that Light might feel that way about him, to know that he was capable of love. But what did it amount to if they were working off of different definitions? What did it matter if love wasn't strong enough to keep someone from hurting you, or you from hurting them?

L felt heavy and confused as he let himself out of the room, and locked it behind him, shutting Light into the room he professed to hate yet had decided not to leave. It was not a heavy door. It was amazing the force of emotion it held behind it.

L tugged at the cloth around his neck, feeling stifled already, and weary. So weary.

---

TBC

A/N: I like the thought of L in shades of grey and black. ^__^

Um, also, sorry for sidetracking myself somewhat on writing the other fic, PITCH. I planned not to, and it happened anyway. Don't hate. :0