Hi everyone! Well, yesterday night I read a very nice but sad story, and I was really in a bad mood...
I was thinking, "Why the hell this two guys can't just be togheter in the end?" I mean, they're such a perfect couple! :3
And so I wrote my alternate ending for this fic... i needed to write this, just to cheer me up!
ANyway, I suggest you to read the original fic before, it's quite short and very well written so you're not going to waste your time!
( -_- I can't save the link, anyway... it's "Are you, or have you ever been?" by RobinRocks)
/s/4040452/1/Are_You_Or_Have_You_Ever_Been
I hope that the author won't mind if I wrote this...
Ah, of course, I don't own Death Note. Unfortunately.
(Ohba and Obata clearly don't share my opinion than L and Light should spend much less time arguing and much more time screwing...)
Anyway... on to the story!
...
Chapter 1: Fear and pride
He had been handcuffed and blinfolded, then walked somewhere he did not know.
He was angry, flustered, and scared. Above all, he was scared.
He was ready to die for his ideals, really, he was. But he just hoped that the day would have come soon, because he was starting to feel a terrible grip in his stomach and tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
He was trembling, and a small part of him was crying and still hoping that someone would have come and hugged him and told him that this was just a nightmare, and everything was going to be alright.
While walking, he felt his knees failing as if they were made of butter.
He didn't want anything more than being allowed to sit down in a corner for three minutes, without anyone watching, to press his knees against his chest and hide his face from the whole Goddamned world, and let the tears fall.
But he wasn't a little boy anymore, he knew it. He wasn't going to pretend to be an innocent kid who had been overwhelmed by a power bigger than him.
He was totally aware of what he had done, and he wasn't trying to arouse pity from the jury by disowing his deeds as Kira. Never.
He didn't reget anything.
And he was ready to die holding his head up; they might have caught him, they could handcuff him and imprison him and even kill him, but they wouldn't ever have made him say he was sorry. Never.
He wasn't going to humiliate himself and disown his believes in order to save his life.
He wasn't going to fucking give them this satisfaction.
They could chain his body, but they would have found out that they had no power on his mind.
In his mind, Light was free... until he didn't submit himself to them, until he didn't say what they want him to say; until he was strong and held on to his ideals... he wouldn't have given them their satisfaction.
Until I didn't beg for my life to be saved... he thought.
No, no way. He was going to die with dignity and let them all see, let them see how little he cared about their threats, let him see...
Yes, he was going let him see, let The Bastard see that he wasn't his bitch, ready to beg for his mercy and throw himself in his arms.
And the asshole was going to suffer, to suffer so much and to regret everything he had done...
He grinned at the thought of The Bastard suffering, though he had to stifle the feeling of comfort that had aroused from the thought of being in L's arms, safe... of just going home and let this all end, go home and nuzzle against L's neck as if nothing had happened...
But no, no Light, he told himself, there's no comfort for you anymore in his arms, his bloody fucking arms.
Bloody fucking Bastard.
The warder who was holding his hands -so thight that it hurt- suddenly stopped. Light couldn't see anything and he just stopped, knees trembling, swallowing quickly his saliva and telling himself to be strong.
The warder remove the blindfold from his eyes, and Light saw he was in a little, badly lit room with a table and a few chairs.
His captor made him a gesture to sit down.
- Wait here. Someone wants to talk to you.
He said, then left and Light heard the noise of the door being locked.
He just hoped it wasn't him.
He couldn't stand to see him anymore.
He waited a few minutes, restlessly playing with the chain of his cuffs. That simple gesture made hurtful memories come to his mind, and he suddenly stopped, holding back a tear.
He had to be strong now.
And then, he heard the noise of the door being unlocked. As the door handle was being pushed down, he held back his breath, silently begging any deity in which he had never believed not to being him the one behind the door.