Title: Rescued

Author: Cold Steel Night / Ami

Rating: PG for big words...?

Summary: SPOILERS for the whole series. L did not die; he took Near's place, found evidence against Light, and somehow orchestrated the warehouse scene on his own.

A/N: So, I found this lil gem in the depths of My Documents. I decided to post it since I'm rather pleased with my imagery and even tolerant of my characterization--of L, at least. But I haven't done it until now because I was waiting for other chapters to write themselves. I don't think it's too much of a cliffhanger, so I'm thinking it's probably going to remain a one-shot. Poor partial plot bunny.

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"You mean… I did those things? Killed all of those people…" Light's eyes were wide and innocent, like the last time he had lost his memories, except now they were also full of fear, sorrow, anger, confusion… He may have lost memories, it occurred to the detective, but he had certainly gained emotion. Or at least the ability to show it.

"Yes, Light-kun. You were Kira." And L knew more than most that it was past tense that was important to the boy right now.

"I…" His eyebrows dropped, and L could practically see the dark path that his thoughts were venturing toward. Criminals should be punished. Terrible criminals should be put to death. I am a terrible criminal. Therefore…

"Light-kun, at the time you were only seeking the betterment of society. You were, essentially, trying to save the world—"

"Shut up! How can you say such things? How can you defend me?!" Light's voice suggested despair and fear rather than anger, and L did not hold the outburst against him.

Light's mind, however, was hardly that organized. Fears of what would become of him darted through his mind, crossing paths with thoughts of what should become of him. The situation seemed so backwards and wrong—L, who had sworn to send Kira to his death, was now trying to defend his actions to none other than Kira himself—and Light found the confusion to be just as infuriating as the situation itself. One's sense of justice should never have an opportunity to conflict with one's sense of self-preservation. It made all else extremely difficult to process.

Like the expression on L's face. Though, as per usual, it was less of a full facial expression than a certain look in his eyes, but that look was disconcerting. Because, Light was certain, as his mind desperately turned its attention to anything but his current predicament, that L had some emotion akin to sympathy in his eyes.

That was it. He knew things had gone too far. Something was either very wrong with him or with L, and naturally he was inclined to believe the latter. Only when he sat up to confront the older man did the pain strike him and surge up his arm, straight toward his heart, and along with the pain came the memory of being injured. His eyes widened more than before, and he didn't even notice L's spidery hands gently lower him back to the bed.

It was sunset; the clouds across the skies were all distorted colors, and at the moment it was more frightening than beautiful, because Light's life too was distorted. Something terrible had happened to him; his plan had gone horribly wrong, and he found he couldn't recall what that plan was, but L had ruined it, had brought his downfall—from what?—and he had been shot, in the shoulder, and now he was running—stumbling, more like—because he knew he had to get away from that building, and if the people that were in that building caught up to him, his life would be over. He knew that the people who could save him weren't there—but who were those people, and how could they help?—and he knew that he had to escape, get as far away as his body would allow, and it began to occur to him that it wasn't very far at all. He felt the blood sliding down his useless arm, leaping from the tips of his fingers as they swung with each stumbling step he dared to take, and he felt the weakness that came with that loss, starting in his legs (though it had started long ago in his mind without his notice) and spreading to his left arm, his good arm, the arm that tried in vain to steady its partner. He spotted a set of stairs through the black spots in his vision, and rather than a path that could only leave him trapped by his followers at the top of a building, it rather seemed like a wise choice to be above those that were searching for him. But his numb legs failed him, and he twisted as he fell, barely noticing that his goal had been achieved at all until he was lying sprawled upon the staircase and facing that bruised and burning sky. He hated and feared the sight, but found he couldn't—or didn't want to—look away. He heard laughter, gravelly and morbid—but what was that? Just his mind playing tricks? And L came, spoke to someone that wasn't Light—but there wasn't anyone else there, right? And then L leaned over Light, and all Light could see was those eyes, and they looked so forceful, and L told him to do something. He didn't understand what it was and then he did and he didn't want to… but L said he didn't have a choice, and that Light would be left to die if he didn't, and Light knew very well that he would indeed die, could almost feel it coming—though surely that was his imagination, one couldn't feel one's own death—and he had complied, and slipped into darkness…

L was reliving the moment just as the boy before him was.

He had stopped the rest of the team from chasing Light, opting to do it on his own—he knew the injured boy wouldn't get very far. He strolled from the building, hands in his pockets and eyebrows knitting together in deep thought. What exactly would become of Light now that he had been captured and fully exposed? L couldn't really say he was pleased with the outcome: Not only was the most exciting case L had ever accepted over, but Light had been so shameful in his downfall. He had screamed, resorted to the basest language and attempts at escape, called for people who weren't present or were dead, belittled the death of his own father, cursed L's name to no end… L found himself truly embarrassed for Light's sake. It wasn't, to say the least, the end he had envisioned. In the midst of his thoughts, he had come upon the boy himself and had nearly been overwhelmed at the sight. For an irrational instant, he was glad that none of the others had followed him, that the sight of the weakened god was for his eyes alone. Light practically reclined on the stairs, framed by the sunset and his own blood, and somehow managed to look graceful despite his fall just moments ago. L managed to wrench his eyes from the sight at the sound of Ryuk's familiar laughter. Of course the shinigami would find Light's predicament amusing; what wasn't funny to him?

"Shinigami-san, what exactly are you doing?" L found himself panicking slightly at the sight of Ryuk scrawling a name into his Death Note. What could the creature stand to gain from L's death?

Ryuk shook his head, still grinning. "I'm not going to do anything to you. It's just that Light's time is up; if I let you capture him, things will get boring. So I'm going to kill him and then leave."

Now L truly panicked. Light couldn't die, not here, and not by this… thing's hand. L had worked too hard to capture Kira just to stand by and watch him die now. But with his panic, his mind shifted itself into a higher gear.

"Wait." L was happy to see that the black, spindly hand did indeed halt its movement. "Would there be any need to kill Light-kun if he was no longer the Note's owner?"

The shinigami answered easily, obviously uncaring either way. "Nah. Then I could just leave and you could do with him what you liked. But he wouldn't remember anything about being Kira or the Death Notes… Would you be willing to accept that?"

L could tell Ryuk was curious as to the answer of that question; he searched for amusement wherever he could get it, and right now he thought he could get it from L's mind. So be it, but L had his own agenda. He approached Light, silently begging him to still be conscious. He leaned over the boy, intercepting his line of vision, and spoke softly for no other reason than that Light was hurt, and L found himself wanting to be… gentle with the boy. Besides, he wouldn't remember this, right?

"Light-kun, give up ownership of the Death Note," he said simply, commanding in a way that didn't really sound like a command.

Light's brow furrowed, trying to process what L had told him, but it was too slow. L knew he wouldn't get it unless it was placed in clearer terms. An ultimatum.

"I will leave you here, and you will bleed to death, unless you repeat the following words: 'I relinquish ownership of all Death Notes.'"

"Wha..? But… No, I can't…" His voice was strained from screaming and weak like the rest of his body, but even in this state he knew (or thought he knew) what was good for him.

"You have to. I've instructed the others not to search for you. If you don't give up the Death Notes, I'll leave you here and you'll die." This was a hollow threat, of course; L had already established that he wouldn't allow Light—Kira—to die, but he was certain that in this state Light wouldn't be able to analyze the situation properly. He probably didn't even know Ryuk was there.

"I…" L could see the resignation in those half-closed amber eyes. He knew what he had to do. "I relinquish ownership… of all…" Suddenly Light's poor condition was painfully obvious, and L feared he wouldn't complete the sentence. "Of all… Death… Notes…"

Ryuk laughed some more. "Have it your way," he said, and with a whip of deathly wings he was gone. L never took his eyes from Light's face, watching the boy tumble into unconsciousness.

And with that, L was brought back to the present, and suddenly aware that the boy currently before him was fully conscious and warranted his attention. He seemed to recover from his own reverie only seconds after L did, and with awareness of his surroundings came displeasure with them.

"What… happens now?" he asked, turning those bright eyes onto the seasoned detective and sounding every bit like the child he was compared to L.

Despite all his experience, he had never gone so entirely against the law and against his own sense of justice. Harboring a criminal… and Kira, no less… What indeed happened now?

"I… don't know, Light-kun."

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So yes. Thoughts? Requests to finish? Curses on me and all my descendents?