A/N: I'm a big fan of Neil Gaiman, and I was up to… about volume eight of Sandman when I started watching Death Note. So it was fairly inevitable that I would combine the two. Especially since L and Dream look so similar... I could make lots of other comparisons but I don't want to spoil the end of The Kindly Ones for anyone who hasn't read it, but if you have I'm sure you know what I'm getting at… Oh, and I wrote this after getting a couple of comments on one of my old pictures on Deviant Art of L and Dream, there's a link on my profile…
I guess this is for DA's MrsJeevas, who gave me the final push needed to write this, and for my mum to introducing me to Gaiman in the first place.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or Sandman. The title's not great, but it's the best I could come up with...
L did not sleep often. He was somewhat of an insomniac, a fact easily discerned by the perpetual black smudges sitting below his bottomless black eyes. It was also a fact the had never ceased to annoy Yagami Light, number one Kira suspect, for the duration of time the two had been handcuffed together, ceaselessly complain about L depriving him of sleep until L caved in and they went to bed merely because he couldn't stand the whining any more. The fact the Light was the number one Kira suspect certainly didn't make it easier for L to relax his guard around the boy enough to sleep, regardless of whatever else had transpired between the pair. Therefore, during this time L slept rarely, and when he did it was brief, only when he was sure Light was asleep, and always waking up before him.
In all honesty, L wished he didn't have to be so paranoid around Light. He wanted to relax more, to be himself without constantly worrying about his identity. This desire to share himself was unusual in itself, as he could count the number of people who had the privilege to know facts about his life one just one thumb, said thumb representing Watari. But, despite his suspicions, L was fond of Light, believing he'd found a kindred spirit, a person who shared both his dazzlingly brilliant intelligence, and was also driven by a desire for justice, even if, in the case that Light was Kira, it was somewhat misguided.
So it wasn't until the third Kira, the Yotsuba Kira, had died of a heart attack during arrest, and the Death Note seized, the rules of which seeming to clear Light and Misa of suspicion, forcing him to return their freedom, that L was able to sleep properly. Of course it wasn't quite that easy. L's thoughts continued to turn over ideas, theories and probabilities, and he was plagued by the feeling that something in Light had changed today, that he was acting more like he had before his confinement, that he was acting, quite frankly, more Kira-like than he had in months. This feeling, which had L worried for his life, made him more determined to prove that Light was Kira, before it was too late, and yet he remained somewhat uncertain about sending his a-bit-more-than-a-friend to his death.
So as L climbed into his bed, ignoring the wave of loneliness that threatened to wash over him, due to absence of his bed mate, he attempted to put to one side all of his thoughts and anxieties. He was determined to enjoy one good, proper, night's sleep before returning to the case with renewed vigour. It would also help to better organise his thoughts, a process he dearly needed as they were in a considerably more chaotic state than was usual. So after lying in bed for some time, shutting down his many complex mental processes, he finally fell into a very deep sleep.
L dreamed…
He dreamed of a house, larger than he'd seen before, located in a surreal patchwork landscape bathed in moonlight. He turned away from the expansive dreamscape to admire the building. He appeared to be standing outside some form of side or back entrance; at least he assumed so, as he would have expected the main entrance to a building like this to be far larger and more impressive. Nevertheless the doorway was decorated by the forms of three fictional creatures, and with his wealth of knowledge he identified them as a wyvern, a griffin and a hippogriff. The door was open, and a pleasant smell drifted enticingly from within. Apprehensively, he stepped forward, knowing this was a dream but put off by the inherent uncertainty of such things. This was confirmed when one of the guardians, which he had assumed were merely statues, turned its head and watched him enter the building with a bored expression.
The doorway led into a short corridor which opened out onto a massive, but deserted, kitchen area, which he meandered across, taking account of the variety of foods laid out across the many surfaces, and the kitchen equipment which ranged from the ancient to the modern. As he passed he snagged a fork and a plate containing a huge wedge of cake which seemed to be calling his name. It was a dream, so he couldn't possibly be held at fault for taking it, and who would just leave a poor slice of defenceless cake lying out like that. He was doing it a favour by eating it, he decided as he swallowed one delicious forkful.
He left the kitchen area anyway, to avoid detection, and to explore more of this house, of course carrying his cake along with him. The house was confusing, the rooms contained within being connected in no particular order, and with no apparent relation to the house as seen from the outside. He supposed this being a dream, it made perfect sense, and if he'd had any doubts about it being a dream, these were rendered silent when at the foot of a staircase he watched a scarecrow with a pumpkin for a head pass by one the floor above, muttering to himself, whilst carrying a ladder and a tin of paint.
He entered one room and stood in awe at a library on an unprecedented scale, with shelves that reached to a ceiling the height of a cathedral and continued out of sight, yet filled to bursting with all manner of books. He wandered further in and peered at the shelves. He recognised none of the titles, although a few of the writers were known to him. He supposed they were dream books, not real, never written. He was about to lift a book of the shelf to investigate this theory, but was stopped by the arrival of what he presumed was the librarian, displaying the seemingly magical ability of librarians everywhere, arriving and shooing him out of the room by another door to prevent him touching the books with his cake-sticky fingers. L had been hoping to find a nice spot to sit in the library and enjoy his cake, sighed despondently before continuing his journey through the house.
After wandering for some time, L emerged in what seemed to be a throne room of some sort. The room was fantastical in nature, and a series of seemingly unsupported stairs led up to an impressive chair. L didn't dare to sit in the chair, instead sat on the stairs in his usual manner and ate his cake, whilst speculating on the nature of this dream. L didn't dream often, a by-product of rarely sleeping deeply enough, but he was sure that dreams weren't supposed to be this continuous. Yes the house was odd, but it remained a house, he hadn't turned a corner and found himself in the streets of Tokyo, or wandering across the British countryside or some other non-house like location. And nothing much had happened. It was an interesting dream but it was, as of yet, uneventful. He was sure that dreams didn't normally give you so much time to sit and speculate, and that generally at the time you weren't supposed to be aware that you were dreaming.
As he sat in thought, he didn't notice the small pointy-eared girl who poked her head round the door cautiously, and on spotting the intruder scuttled away to find her master.
L was roused from his speculation as he sensed an intimidating presence enter the room. It was a tall man, with bone-white skin, and a mass of black hair framing his face. He was dressed casually in black t-shirt and black jeans, with bare feet; obviously he hadn't been expecting a visitor. His eyes were black and bottomless, which L knew was how some described his own, but they weren't like this. His eyes were infinite, with starlight gleaming out of their depths, and L had to look away so as not to lose himself. He put the plate down, and stood respectfully, wondering who this entity could be.
The entity in question looked at L reproachfully and crossed his arms. "When Nuala told me there was a lookalike in my throne room I was expecting someone a little more impressive than a scrawny cake-thief."
L was insulted. Sure, he realised that his baggy attire did little for him, and he did tend to look a little emaciated due to his poor diet, but he still did not take being called scrawny well. Nor did the lookalike comment go down without protest. L pouted for a moment, crossing his own arms in a childish manner. "Well, I'm sorry for not meeting your standards. I'm never what people expect, but no one's questioned it before, given my reputation as world's greatest detective. And I don't see who you are to call me scrawny."
"I am Dream of the Endless, and the King of this realm, so you would do well not to cross me mortal." The entities voice was difficult to describe, but resonated in L's ears at this statement, and he figured that maybe he should watch his mouth around the being, not that he didn't usually. The being went on. "World's greatest detective though, you're L? Not really what I would have expected either."
"You've heard of me?" Asked L. "I'm flattered."
"Of course I've heard of you. Your battle against 'Kira' has had a great influence on the unconscious minds of the dreamers. My sister's not too happy with that boy. Mortal's should not have so much influence."
"Sister?" asked L.
"Death" replied the dream king simply.
"Boy? You mean Yagami Light, he is Kira then?"
"Indeed he is. But then you know that, but you just lack proof."
"The rules…" L muttered to himself. "Those last rules in the notebook must be fake. If I test them then I can get my proof…" he raised his head. "I agree with your sister though. The power to kill is taken far too lightly by Kira, and he uses it so childishly."
"He dreams of an ideal world which he has created and rules over as god," stated the Dream King. "Would you like to see?"
"Into the mind of my suspect? What more could any detective ask? Why though?"
"It is not often a dreamer finds the heart of the Dreaming. And I feel that I might be wanting to make you an offer."
L watched as the Dream King crafted a cloak for himself out of the air of the dream world, and suddenly realised that the whole of this realm had been crafted by this timeless entity. On donning the cloak, which L observed poetically, was the colour of night, with flames dancing along the hem, Dream stepped forwards and placed a hand on L's shoulder. L shut his eyes and there was a sudden rush of sensation, and when he reopened his eyes they where no longer in the Dream King's throne room. Or even his house.
They seemed to be standing in the middle of the road in the middle of Tokyo. The sun was shining brightly down onto the street, illuminating the people going about their daily business. There was something not quite right, L thought and after a moment he realised what it was. Not only was everything unnaturally clean, which is he was sure would be a requirement of any 'perfect' world created by Light, but everyone was smiling. They greeted each other in the street, having pleasant conversations with strangers. They all seemed happy. Of course this would be what Light wished for at the end of his killing spree.
L wandered further down the street, with Dream following on a few steps behind. At the corner of the street he spotted a young woman kneeling on the ground. He stepped closer, curious, and discovered that she was praying openly in front of a small golden effigy of Light, praising him as the saviour of the world. L turned away from this sight, somewhat disgusted.
"So this is what he wants," mused L, turning to his presently silent companion. "A perfect world, free of crime, filled only with good people." He snorted. "So naïve. It'll never happen. Crime is a fact of life. There's no such thing as good people. Perhaps there are just less desperate people, or people with better judgement, but that doesn't make them good."
Dream simply nodded. He'd been around long enough to know what L said was true, that for the human realm to be this perfect was impossible. There was only one place that perfect, the Silver City, or Heaven as it was more commonly known. But Kira would never end up there, especially if he had anything to do with it.
"What was this offer, you mentioned?"
"It's something I've offered many before," Dream started. "To become a dream, to come to my realm after your death, rather than going with my sister."
"That… seems very generous." Said L, considering the implications of that statement, it implied that his death wasn't too far away. "What's the condition?"
"That your suspect, Yagami Light, Kira, will also come here. You will share responsibilities, be part of the dreaming as L and Kira, as you are seen by the dreamers. As I said, you have had a large influence on the dreamers, and your presence would be beneficial."
"If I say no? What will become of me then?"
"You will go with my sister to wherever you will, and she will take Kira to Mu as he was promised."
L weighed up the choices in his mind. Die and travel to an uncertain afterlife, or die and live effectively forever in the Dreaming, admittedly with Kira as his adversary, but if that since that also meant spending forever with Light… He smiled. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.
"In that case, I guess I accept." He said eventually
The two shook hands, and l could have sworn Dream winked at him, before surreality swirled around him once more and he woke up.
L sat up in his bed, sheets tangled around his legs, with the memory of his dream fresh in his mind. Was the dream true? Did that conversation, that agreement really take place? Normally he would have dismissed such ridiculous notions straight away, but previously he had not a shinigami, nor had he borne witness to a murder notebook. He supposed that if such things were real, then the possibility of a Lord of Dream was reasonable, and it may be possible to meet him in your dreams. The probability of it being real was about twenty percent, he reasoned. He didn't regret what he'd said in the dream and found himself almost wishing it were real. Of course if it were real, then Light was without a doubt Kira. He suddenly recalled his plan to test the notebook, and his thoughts turned away from his dream to plotting how to prove that irritating rule false.
And so it was that L developed his plan to use criminals to test the validity of the Death Note, and that irksome 13 day rule. He didn't exactly forget his dream, but he didn't really think about it, focusing his thoughts on the task at hand. And thus, when he revealed his plan to the task force after criminals started dying again, the shinigami Rem took action to prevent Misa's capture, and wrote down his and Watari's names on her Death Note.
The events that followed passed quickly. The flashing message of ALL DATA DELETION on the screen before him, and the pang of fear that passed through him, knowing this meant Watari was in trouble, that Kira had got them somehow, and his panicked realisation that the shinigami was no longer in the room. He felt the heart attack grip him, and he fell from his chair, only to be grabbed by Light before he hit the ground. He looked up into Light's smirking face, unable to speak, this the final confirmation of Light's identity as Kira, feeling grateful to the boy for at least confirming it as 100 percent before his death. Behind the smirk, he could sense the faintest hint of regret in his eyes, and with that he quietly accepted his death and closed his eyes and he breathed his last.
L sat up, looking about himself. Light was still there, holding his expired form to his chest, as if he could give him his life back, and, L could tell, he was only half acting his grief to the task force. Or perhaps that was just hope that Light cared for him despite having just killed him. The task force were moving in a controlled panic, especially when Light was so kind as to misinform them that they would be next. Ignoring Matsuda's scream, L turned his attention to the person whose presence had been unknown to him whilst he was alive.
She was as pale as her brother and had a similar, but longer and thicker, mass of black hair, but she had a much warmer expression on her face as she watched him. She was dressed in a similar style to the way Misa did, but to a much lesser extreme, and it looked more natural than it did on the blond, and since she was Death he supposed gothic fashion was almost to be expected. She wore a necklace with an ankh hanging from it, and L quietly appreciated the irony of Death wearing the Egyptian symbol for life. She bore no resemblance to the western image of death as a cowl and cloak wearing skeleton, and nor did she even remotely the Death God Rem.
He stood an extended his hand, "Death I presume?"
"Yep," she said with a smile, shaking his hand gently, but not releasing it, tilting her head as she looked into his face. "I guess there is some resemblance…"
L remained silent, ignoring the fact that he was once again being compared with Dream.
"Are you coming with me then?" she asked.
"Uh, where to?" he asked, wanting to make sure he was clear about the destination before he agreed.
"The land of nod. My little brother's realm of sleep. The Dreaming of course. That is the deal you made, right?"
L nodded. The pair stepped out of the room, L sparing one final glance towards Light and his body in farewell, before passing through the wall with Death.
Years passed. L settled into his new home, and got to know some of the bizarre inhabitants of the Dreaming. He particularly got on with Lucien, the chief librarian, as he was interesting to speak to and had been an inhabitant here for a long time, apparently he'd been Dream's first raven. He also spoke to the present raven Matthew a lot, since he was recently departed from the human plane, and he could talk about reasonably current affairs without a huge amount of explanation. He also regularly visited Light in his dreams, keeping an eye on what he was up to as Kira, and acting as disdainful as possible towards the idea of Kira in general.
He was especially annoyed one night, as when Light fell asleep; his dreams tormented with worry about his imminent confrontation, L discovered that the boy had managed to get rid of two of his successors. The pair had been carrying out a daring mission in an attempt to expose Kira, in what he supposed was Mello's last ditch effort to beat Near. He wasn't surprised that Mello's recklessness had got himself and Matt killed. L was saddened by the deaths of Mello and Matt, but knew they were in good hands. He also knew that this would likely be the final puzzle piece Near needed, and would allow for Kira's long awaiting defeat.
He did, however, rapidly leave Light's dream, and went and punched the nearest available wall, to let out his anger with Light. After patching up his fist he decided to be optimistic. Light would be here soon after all, and together they could do the job they were brought here for. He was quite looking forward to seeing Light again outside of his dreams, because the dream version of Light rarely noticed his presence, and was nowhere near as interesting as the real one.
Light collapsed on the warehouse stairs, breathing harshly and attempting to halt the blood pouring from various bullet wounds. Inwardly he was cursing everyone. Near, Matsuda, Mikami, Ryuk… and L. Yes, this was defiantly L's fault, his revenge for killing him, for betraying him when there had been a semblance of trust, a parody of a real relationship between the two of them.
Light gasped, feeling the heart attack Ryuk had promised him all those years ago when he was just starting out as Kira, beginning. At that moment he felt closer to L than he had in years, knowing that the enigmatic detective had felt exactly the same painful sensations before his own death. As this revelation took him, his vision swam, and he could almost see the form of L standing before him, looking down on his fallen rival pityingly. Light let out one last ragged breath and collapsed, his body relaxing into an expression of peace as he died.
He returned from the blackness, feeling much better than he had before he ran in here. He tipped his head sideways out of the glare of the sunlight which was streaming in through a broken window, and cracked open one eye. He spotted one black booted foot beside him. The boot, which was thick soled, and gothic in nature, reminded him of someone, his supposed fiancé, and he croaked out a hopeful "Misa?" before turning his head to get a better look at the figure.
"'Fraid not sweetie." Said a voice that was definitely not the high pitched bubbly voice of Misa. He sat up to take in the black dressed figure, and was finally able to look at the woman's face. "I'm Death and I'm here to take you with me."
Light's heart sank, as the fragile hope that he'd somehow, miraculously, managed to survive shattered at that statement. "Oh. I'm dead then."
"I'm afraid so. And in quite an outstandingly pathetic display for someone calling himself God."
Light lowered his eyes and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "You saw that? I'm kinda embarrassed. I don't think I was quite in my right mind."
"I don't think you've been in your right mind for quite some time," said Death darkly. Then she smiled and offered the misguided young man a hand, adding brightly, "Shall we be off?"
"You're taking me to Mu?" queried Light, taking her hand and pulling himself up.
"Unfortunately no. your detective friend… enemy… whichever it was, saw to that?"
"L? What did he do?"
You're going to my little brother's realm instead. And you can ask him what he did yourself since you'll be seeing him there soon."
Light stopped moving for a moment at the prospect, half exciting, half terrifying, of seeing L again. The last time he'd seen the man was at his funeral, and before that as he lay dying in Light's arms, of a heart attack Light had brought about, even if he hadn't written the name himself.
He looked down momentarily at the body he was standing ankle-deep in, realising he didn't feel remotely attacked to the blood soaked form, instead feeling a little disgusted with the person he'd been just a short while ago. He looked up at Death with one of his trademark radiant smiles, swearing to himself that he would apologise to L and earn his forgiveness somehow. Death smiled back at him, and he followed her away from the scene of his demise.
Light followed Lucien across the Dreaming. He'd briefly met the Sandman himself, who'd given him a dark look, before ordering Lucien to escort his newly constructed place of residence, before turning to talk to his sister.
Lucien was very tall and his long legs made him difficult to keep up with, and he was talking to Light, telling him about the Dreaming and some of it's more prominent inhabitants, and Light was listening, but not really absorbing any of it. His brain was more focused on what he would say to L when he saw him and, more fearfully, what L would say to him. They were currently walking through an area of the Dreaming that featured many strange buildings. They were signposted, he noticed the 'House of Mystery' and the 'House of Secrets' located beside each other, but seemingly designed to contrast each other.
Eventually Lucien turned off at a house labelled as the 'House of Justice', which he supposed was an appropriate name for a house he would be sharing with L, although he might have gone for 'House of Lies', though he supposed this might already be taken. The house reminded him a little of his old family home, and a little of the task force headquarters, as he could see elements of both as well as those of a european mansion which he assumed L would recognise, in its exterior. Although the main influence on its design appeared to be that of a somewhat cartoonish idea of prison. He could see a cage hanging from one of the corners of the roof that could conceivably hold a full grown male, if he crouched and didn't move. He hoped it was merely a decorative feature and that L didn't plan on trying it out on him.
Lucien rang the bell and bade him goodbye, leaving him standing on the doorstep, vaguely wishing that the ground below him would open up and swallow him where he stood. He was willing to admit that his defeat at Near's hands and his subsequent theatrics had taken his extreme arrogance down a considerably number of notches.
Light froze as the door opened slightly. It was dark inside the house, but he could just about make out the form of the detective peering out from behind the door, his black eye twinkling. If anything L looked just as uncertain as Light was feeling. The detective opened the door the rest of the way, allowing himself to be fully illuminated by the twilight.
The detective, after a brief moment's observation, stepped back and allowed Light to enter the house. The door clicked shut behind him and Light looked L in the eyes, opening his mouth to attempt a heartfelt apology.
L pre-empted him by holding up a hand. "Don't bother Light-kun. I forgave you a long time ago. Having been able to see your dreams I have a good understanding of your motivations, even if I think you are naïve and childish. And I know you regret killing me. You don't have to tell me that, I realised before I even left the realm of the living, it was clear to see in your eyes, never mind what I've seen in your dreams since."
"You spied on my dreams?"
"It's only to be expected Light-kun, since I kept constant observation on you whilst we were both alive."
Light smiled fondly at the memory. "I missed you L." he said reaching out to touch the detective, his fingers brushing over his face, refamiliarising himself with it, before resting his hands on the detective's shoulders.
The detective stepped closer, his hand rising to rest on Light's waist, his eyes meeting Light's, brimming with emotions he normally never let anyone else see. "Don't call me that. My name…" he said hesitantly, though this couldn't possibly have negative implications, "…it's L Lawliet."
"Lawliet," Light breathed his faces mere inches from L's own, the name he had wanted to know for more than one reason, for such a long time.
L closed the final distance and brushed his lips against Light's in a tender but chaste kiss that nevertheless spoke volumes to the pair, who held each other tightly, neither wanting to lose the other again.
They separated, still clinging to one another, both wearing matching expressions of contentment.
"So what exactly is this job we're supposed to be doing?" asked Light.
"Well, I think the general idea is that we feature in people's dreams in our identities as L and Kira, representing the two faces of justice or something like that. Since 'our battle' had such and impact on the unconscious minds of the dreamers or something. We'll probably eventually become parodies of ourselves if the guys up the road are anything to judge by."
"But I get to spent eternity with you? Even if we're enemies in people's dreams?"
"Yes, Light-kun. That is the deal I made."
"I'm glad," said Light, and he leaned in to kiss the detective once more.
The End.
A/N: And so L and Light lived in the Dreaming, visiting the deranged minds of fangirls throughout the multiverse...
and wow... it's finished. I can't believe I wrote this in just two days.