Summary: AU; Light isn't Kira. L sighs and resigns himself to a day of zero productivity. To a day of soft words and slow walks and brown eyes that seem just a little too unfocused. Voice a little too unsteady. It's one of those days. LxLight if you want it to be.
The clock strikes 6:30am. L pokes Light, and Light flinches, burrowing deeper into his cocoon of blankets. Another poke elicits a quiet whimper, and just like that, L knows. He's become quite adept at reading Light (was there ever a time when he wasn't?), watching his actions and determining thoughts. If Light were a subject, L would be a professor. It is therefore that he knows, with absolutely certainty.
It's one of those days.
L sighs and resigns himself to a day of zero productivity. To a day of soft words and slow walks and brown eyes that seem just a little too unfocused. Voice a little too unsteady.
He'll wait until Light decides it's time to get up, as he must on these days, lest he be faced with those eyes, and the sadness in them that threatens to suck him of all his resolve.
(Light-is-Kira-Light-is-Kira-Light-is-Kira)
He hasn't really thought 'Light is Kira' and meant it in several months. No, he knows that Light is not Kira, but L started this year of messy chains, and he'll see it through to completion. If only so he could say to himself that he tried. That he went through the motions and did what he could. That the end justified the means. That the result was worth Light's pain.
That this was necessary to see justice done.
(I-am-Justice-I-am-Justice-I-am-Justice)
An hour passes, and he stirs from his lethargic state of half-awareness. Light is shifting, blinking slowly and stretching. Those eyes land on L, and L stares back with what he hopes is gentle encouragement. He was never too great at comfort, but he likes to think the last few months have taught him better.
Light sits up, and L follows suit.
Good morning, Light-kun." The words, though few, are carefully measured, and spoken with a small degree of hesitancy. He has to be careful with his words on days like this, lest Light glean some meaning from them that L didn't intend to give. It's an anxious struggle, waiting in anticipation for Light to decide if L means no ill-will or not. If L's words are judged to be innocent, they can continue. If they're guilty... L tries again.
Today, his words are innocent, it seems. Light smiles slightly and rubs at his eyes, and L breathes a silent sigh of relief. Now to wait and see if-
"Good morning, L."
Today is a speaking day. Good. That's good. Days like this are always easier when Light allows himself to speak. Maybe L will even be able to get him to eat something today.
He and Light manoeuvre out of their bed in sync. L hovers closer than he knows he should, but he also knows that Light's balance tends to suffer in the mornings of days like this. He waits for Light to take a tentative step forward before L guides them both towards the bathroom, stopping briefly by his nightstand to pick up the key to their handcuffs. He stopped hiding the key from Light's sight early on, when it became obvious that the teen wasn't planning on running away. He figured, then, that perhaps having the key somewhere Light could see it would act as a sign of trust, and improve their shattered relationship.
He unlocks Light's cuff and gently pushes the teen towards the shower. "Go on. I'll be right here." Light tended to get antsy if L unlocked his cuff for any length of time. Like he thought that if they weren't attached by the strong metal, L would suddenly disappear. Light takes a breath and nods, quickly stripping and opening the shower door. It's not too long before the room heats up, and the mirror becomes foggy with steam.
L sits on the edge of the bath, and waits for Light to finish. He takes the time to mentally prepare for the day ahead. In the wake of everything the Kira case had caused thus far, it was sometimes hard for him to withstand the force of his own depression, let alone Light's, too. They did what they could for each other to keep the darkness at bay, but despite his intelligence, the simple fact was that Light was still a teenager, and had experienced the pain and fear that came with L's line of work far less than the detective himself had.
Light was strong, though, and days like these didn't come around too often. It was when they did that L was forcefully reminded of why he hadn't allowed his successors to work with him on this case. When he finally found Kira, and he would, L would make sure that Justice came to him swiftly and firmly. He would pay for everything he had done to the world a hundred times over.
L snaps out of his thoughts as he hears the shower turn off. He stands up and reaches for the towel hanging on the door. Light steps out of the shower, looking more awake than he had earlier. He takes the towel from L with a murmured "thanks," and L unlocks his own side of the cuff and places it and the key by the sink as he prepares to shower himself. Light leaves the room briefly and comes back in with clean clothes for them both. When the teen finishes drying and dressing himself, he clicks one of the handcuffs around his wrist, and sits down on the side of the bath where L previously had been.
"I want to go see them today," Light says suddenly.
I know," L replies, "and we will. But breakfast first."
"I'm not really hungry."
"Breakfast first," he repeats, and Light sighs, but accepts.
-o0o-
Light manages half a piece of buttered toast and a cup of tea with two sugars before he pushes his plate away from him, looking slightly ill.
"I can't do more," he mumbles, voice strained. L smiles and squeezes his hand lightly.
"It's okay. You did good."
L had never given much thought to his own eating habits in the past. So long as he wasn't hungry and could still move, he didn't care what he ingested, as long as it was sweet. It was perhaps because of this that, at first, he hadn't noticed Light eating less. Hadn't noticed him getting thinner. Hadn't noticed the teen's hollowing cheeks and dull eyes and shaking hands. He only finally noticed when Light passed out one day, crashing to the floor in a heap and sending the detective he was shackled to down with him.
Since then, L had paid more attention to what he ate, and what Light ate, too. With Watari overseeing them, they usually both managed well enough. L hadn't realised how underweight he was until he started eating real food. Suddenly all those concerned looks and quiet words and vitamin tablets that Watari had given him for years made sense, and he felt a little embarrassed. And worried. Very worried.
Because whereas eating more was simply a matter of not being lazy for L, Light was struggling with something meaner.
L squeezes Light's hand again and stands up. "You wanna go, or hang around here for a bit?"
Light stands up slowly, looking uncertain. His gaze moves from the floor, to the wall, to the table, to L's hand in his, and finally, to L himself. "I… Want to…" His eyes waver. Light doesn't like to be the one to make decisions, preferring to leave running his life to L and Watari.
"I think they'd like to see you, don't you think?" L suggests, as he always does. "We can stop by the florist and pick up some flowers." They'll be the same ones as usual, of course. The florist always has some on hand, in case they show up.
Red Carnations for Soichiro, Pink Carnations for Sachiko, and Cyclamens for Sayu.
At first, they visited near daily, then two or three times a week, then once a week, once every other week, until finally, they only went when Light asked, or when L thought he needed it.
Light blinks, swallows, and nods.
"Come on, then," L says quietly. He doesn't let go of Light's hand as the two make their way out the building.
-o0o-
The cool breeze blows hot air, and L tries to ignore the heat of the sun on his face and feet. He finds himself wishing that he had thought to put sunblock on, or at least a hat and shoes.
He's changed a lot these past few months, L muses as he and Light wander through the grassy rows of stone, but his dress style has remained the same. He's not too interested in changing it anyway. Light had once, on a better day, confessed to finding it 'amusing and unique.'
They come to a slow stop in front of three stone heads sitting close together. Light is shaking as he stares, eyes glazed over, at the words carved into them. L waits, knowing that soon Light will come back from whatever memory he's swimming in and sit on the floor in front of the leftmost stone.
As he predicted, Light stands near-motionless for two minutes and twenty-six seconds before he lowers himself the ground. He fumbles with the package in his hands before gently, reverently, pulling out three freshly cut Red Carnations. He places them on the dirt in front of the stone, brushing his fingers over the small patches of grass beginning to grow there as he does.
"Dad…"
The soft, choked words are also predicted. L stands behind Light and places his hands on the teen's shoulders, silently supportive, as he does every time they come here. An hour passes by slowly as Light talk to his relatives. Flowers are placed by the other two stones, hands shake and tears fall. Apologies are whispered, over and over again. Promises to catch their killer, avenge their deaths and restore Justice to the world are made, and L's heart clenches.
He once thought this teen was that killer.
-o0o-
They spend the rest of the day wandering around a nearby park, hand in hand. Light is mostly silent, but he responds when L talks to him. They stop for lunch at a local café, and toss bread at ducks as the sun sets. L realises he hasn't spent so much time outside since the last time they did this, almost three weeks ago.
They sit on a bench as the stars come out, and L pulls Light close to his chest. His chained hand holds Light's, while his free one cards its fingers through the teens' hair. They stay like that, silent and calm, for a long time. The heat of the day gives way to a pleasantly cool night, and eventually, Light stands up and stretches.
"We can… Go home now if-if you want."
Home.
L had only ever really called Wammy's home, for as long as he could remember. The orphanage had given him something that, in his younger years, he had convinced himself he would never have, never experience. In a world as big and scary and dangerous as the one they lived in, Wammy's was a tiny place of safety, a slice of paradise. As chaos reigned outside its' fences, Wammy's remained still, calm and ever peaceful.
Sort of like the bedroom he shares with Light on the top level of Task Force Headquarters.
L stands up and smiles at Light, a smile of warmth, love, understanding and acceptance. Light smiles back, and together, hand in hand once more, they make the trek back home. Light is standing a little bit straighter, walking a little bit faster. The air of depression, exhaustion and melancholy is, for now at least, gone. L knows it will come back; it always does. For now, though, Light is happy, and that's all that L wants.
The stars watch over them, guarding them and guiding their path.
"L?"
"Hm?"
"Thank you."
A/N – I had no plan the entire time I was writing this, and as such stories tend to go, I had no clue how to end it. I hope it's not terrible. :p