Okay, so a chapter L/Reader is here, and I am quite excited to write it. I am a little wary as I have my hands full with school... Especially this week as it's littered with tests... But I'll go ahead with it anyway, otherwise it may never get written. Too many of my ideas get shot down that way. Anyway, just to let you know, there are sensitive themes from the very beginning so don't read if you are easily frightened or triggered. That's all I have to say; I hope you enjoy!

Just as a note, this story is post-Kira - it's mentioned at the very end but it's not going on throughout this story.. BUT the building in which they do the Kira investigation in (the one L has built especially for the case, somewhere around episode 17) is already within existence. It suits my story so it will be there.

~Jess~

It seemed you were always in some kind of trouble. Each of your riveting tales started with you running away; avoiding somebody; fighting for your very life. And this was one was no different.

Your legs ached as you propelled yourself down pathway after pathway in search of some exit. Behind you, the three dubious men were gaining on you, and you were beginning to tire out. Badly. Even so, you hurtled past shops and houses - anything that could possibly hide you. The night was beginning to prove endlessly useless, the darkness doing next to nothing to conceal you from view. It wasn't even as if you were being provocative, just walking under a bridge to get to the other side of a railway track; the usual. The only reason you didn't stop there for the night was because the trains were still running - you'd never have been able to sleep with such noise overhead.

"Why're you so intent on runnin'?! Come back and have some fun with us!"

"Fuck you!" you yelled back, willing your legs to carry you faster.

It was a difficult job, dodging in and out of things that could have possibly slowed you down, but from months on the streets you were used to it. You'd never been in a particularly great position as far as the men in your city were concerned. They always seemed to want to cause trouble simply because you were alone.

They never managed to hurt you too bad though - you could look after yourself just fine, or so you'd convinced yourself as you flung large rubbish bins onto the ground to stop them, to make them stumble, to trip them up even if you were being hopeful. However, it didn't stop them, them simply leaping over the obstacles with vigour, their mouths running a mile a minute as they threw obscenities and curses your way.

Your vision was beginning to distort slightly - and the others must have known, because they seemed to be purposefully speeding up, as if they hadn't been giving it their all the entire time. To give you a fleeting grasp of freedom. To be so cruel as to let you believe that you had a chance against all three of them, simultaneously, with no harm falling upon you. That was truly evil. A fact that made you grit your teeth in anger as you continued to run stubbornly. If they caught you, it would be with you kicking and screaming.

Fighting.

Your legs had carried you past a particularly large array of flats, stacked up on top of one another for as far as the eye could see. You didn't marvel at it, didn't have the time to, but you allowed yourself to envy the security that those lucky people had around them. An entire locality within one building, with the safety and security of gates, firm walls and many floors encompassing their otherwise vulnerable little selves. You would have even tried to infiltrate yourself, but there was a huge gate up front with a finger-print scanner and a voice transceiver. No time to try it, no time to beg for assistance, you were alone - just as you'd always been. Nothing was different. Nothing ever would be different.

As you expected sooner or later, you felt a large hands grab your ragged jacket, yanking you back so hard that you slipped onto your knees in front of him. Looking up, you noticed the other two had halted only a little ways off from you, beginning to form a meek little triangle around you; together, the three of them peered down at you, the 'leader' of the bunch sticking up his pointer finger and wagging it from side to side as if scolding a disobedient child.

"Oh, [Name]."

The growl that left your mouth was of pure vigour. You hated the way their eyes traveled over your frame as if it had belonged to them all along. You didn't even know their names and it wad it was incredibly creepy that they knew yours; at least some of your previous chasers had had the decency to give you a crude introduction.

"Don't touch me," you hissed through clenched teeth, before feeling a firm hand squeezing at your chin and sides of your jaw, causing your face to bunch up slightly. A cruel laugh left the mouth of the other, quickly followed by two others. You sent each of your attackers hateful glares before receiving a sharp slap to your face, the sound echoing in the air much akin to a gunshot. Shock overtook your features before your brilliant [e/c] eyes died in spark.

'I have lost... they have won... this is it...'

"Better behave, or there'll be more of where that came from."

Your awareness seemed to come to when you felt yourself being hoisted up by one of them, foreign, grubby hands roaming over you. You began to scream, only for one of them to shove three large fingers into your mouth and as far down your throat as possible, making you gag and choke. The movements didn't stop.

"Let go of me!" you cried, kicking and screaming as frantically as possible. "Get off of me, let go!"

And then, the cold of metal ghosted against your neck; a blade of silver glinting in the peaceful moonlight. Your breath caught in your throat as the three paused, laughter echoing around you as they partook in the joke that was your undressing. Every time you tried to fight, the blade would be driven harder against your skin and threats would be hissed in your ear.

"I'll kill you, [Name]. Don't think I won't. God, you must want this - look at you." Don't make me...

You could feel cold air beginning to hit your skin and you almost stopped kicking. Almost. The defeat you were currently witnessing wasn't only overwhelming, but incredibly upsetting as you felt tears spring to the corners of your eyes. Aside from your terror and horror, you'd never been so humiliated in your entire life. You'd never been caught aside from a few minor beatings in which you had dished out as much as you were given. Why was this time so different? Was it because you were tired to begin with? With no home to go to, what were you supposed to do to keep out of people's way?

"Please stop..."

"Shut the fuck up, will you?"

A whimper was his answer, the now pitiful sound passing your lips with the readiness of a two year old being told "no" to an ice cream. You were no longer strong, only reduced to your underwear. You couldn't even find energy to scream any more, your throat tight with the disgust of the stranger's fingers down them. Mortification didn't begin to describe your predicament as you felt hands delve into places they shouldn't have been, all while deciding whether you'd rather die at the hands of the blade of living on with no pride whatsoever.

But fate had always been a funny thing as far as you were concerned. You had been so unlucky to have your parents die at the hands of a car crash, yet you had been so fortunate to receive care from an orphanage. You had been so unfortunate as to despise your new 'home', yet you had been so lucky as to have the guts to run away and leave it behind, allowing bad memories to fade away, obscuring themselves in the distant and forgotten wreckage of what used to be your normal life.

In this particular instance, fate was on your side - turns out, it was luck's turn.

"Shit!" It was a simple vocalisation, but one that made the hands disappear, as if they were never there to begin with. Opening your tightly squeezed-shut eyes, you found yourself staring into a bright light. A torch...? A headlight...? You couldn't tell, far too delirious to understand what was happening. No... Not a headlight. Siren lights. A police car.

They had bolted away, leaving you in a heap on the ground as soon as somebody had stepped out of the car. You could hear the deceivingly soft footfalls of the stranger as they made their way towards you; no doubt they'd try to kick up a fuss, whereas you wanted to simply thank them for interrupting what was about to happen and then scarper. As you always did. Never let anybody get close, never lose.

"Miss, you're not hurt, are you...?"

You almost laughed. Hurt? No. But destroyed? Of course. You could feel tears slipping from the safety of your eyes, despite your better judgment. Damn it, crying was never good, never mind crying in front of a stranger. But, while you were thinking about it, the man sounded friendly, even in tone; older, no doubt, but friendly. You weren't going to fall for it though - how could you? After all, you yourself had once sounded friendly.

"No..." Your voice shook as tears began to fall down your face, a sob forcing its way out in the form of a terrified choke. You couldn't stop yourself from breaking down any longer, simply cried on the hard surface of the pavement. There was no scramble for your clothing, or a flurry of arm movements to attempt to cover yourself a little more (luckily for you, your underwear was still in tact and in place, which you could only thank God - or something of that equal aptitude - for), just the sound of sobbing filling the night air.

And yet no house lights flickered once. Granted, compared to the places you had run through, this one was scarce, though it was directly opposite that huge stack of flats you'd spared a moment to envy just minutes prior to what had happened. Not one person had even gratified you with a light turning on, not even a step outside just to see what was going on. Even if they did nothing - which you would understand, people like your attackers were dangerous, and you didn't expect people to want to cross them - they could have at least... checked.

And this fact only made you cry harder.

"My dear, it's not good out here. Come here."

You didn't move. Who did he think he was? And more importantly, what kind of person did he think you were to simply be able to get up after such shock had attacked your inner nerves with such vigour you wanted to faint? Casting your eyes upwards, you laid eyes on an old man, his hand outstretched towards you - in it, was what you presumed to be his jacket.

Without really thinking, you all but snatched it from him and wrapped it around your shuddering form, listening to the little noise of contentment that passed the other's mouth, before you felt hands on your shoulders. Instinctively, you began to lash out, only for a gentle tone of voice to mutter:

"I will not lay a hand on you. Please, come this way so that I can help you."

You found yourself obeying him, getting to your feet, limbs shaky and long trench-coat draped around your form, you so much shorter than he that it trailed on the floor slightly. A comforting and helpful arm slunk around your shoulders, supporting your weight as you were put into the police car, the door closing behind you. You weren't quite sure what to do now, nor what was going to happen to you... One thing you did know was that you couldn't run. You had no clothes excluding your underwear and this gentleman's coat - and that wouldn't last you long out there at night.

The rest was a blur, the car beginning to move before you could protest. However, it stopped just a moment later as the mystery man unwound the window and pressed his finger to the finger-pad in front of the block of flats you'd noticed earlier. Wait, so this guy lived there...? So, perhaps you'd been wrong and someone had noticed after all...?

You stared in wonder as he parked the car in front of the assortment of flats ahead of you, and then opened your door for you. You slipped out with no complaints, pulling the fabric of the coat tighter around yourself, your legs sturdy once more. Due to being out on the streets, you were used to confrontations such as the one you had experienced tonight (though not with nearly as much success, that part still had you startled) and it didn't take long for you to cut the crying out and steel your resolve. You wouldn;t let anybody hurt you - and you'd never let anybody see you hurting again. You watched as the stranger tapped a long assortment of numbers on a panel before the door slid open. This place sure had sharp security...

"U-Um... sir, I'm sorry but... who are you...?" you asked with the curiosity of a child. Damn it, you hadn't meant to stutter, but you just felt so threatened by the entire new complex around you that it was hard to think correctly and arrange your words the way you wanted them to be said. All around was an odd business-like appearance flashing back at you, a mixture of chrome and blue being all that filled your vision, as well as an elevator in the right hand corner of the spacious room. This didn't look like a flat room at all... did flats have receptions? Or, maybe this was a hotel?

The old man turned to you; the first time you'd gotten a real good look at him, only to notice he didn't look at all predatory, nor dangerous. Still, you didn't trust... Couldn't trust.

"I am Watari," He bowed to you, which you found odd but you kept your lips tightly steeled out of politeness, "I am so sorry I could not reach you sooner."

He was apologising...?

"It's fine... it wasn't your fault..."

A silence overtook the room as he beckoned you to follow him, walking towards the elevator you had spotted earlier.

"I can call whoever you wish. Perhaps your parents would be a good choice? I'm sure they are worried about you by now."

Your eyes closed, your fists clenching by your sides. Not out of anger, but out of sadness. Everybody always turned straight to the parents... And it was more than disconcerting to have to confess that they weren't there to help. Through no fault of their own, either.

"There's nobody you can call," you told him, your voice quiet as the elevator door slid to a close in front of the pair of you, beginning to move up. "They're all gone..."