a/n: Err... semi-rape warnings? It is sort of rape but not really...

You tell me that I'm crazy,
Then you smile…

x-x-x-x-x

Raito had never, ever, in his life considered the prospect that he might be more than slightly mentally unstable. Perhaps indirectly causing multiple heart failures (which was even now bordering on triple zero figures), might make him a murderer. But he was killing criminals, and after all, didn't two wrongs make a right?

Raito had forgotten that two wrongs still made a wrong.

That night, he leant back in his office chair, tapping the flat end of a pen against his bottom lip, pondering life and death. He knew that a terrifying end met to those that used the Death Note, but the same was said for terrible luck, and he had been rather lucky up until now if he stopped to consider it.

It had gotten awfully empty in the office ever since L's death. The other officers liked to retire earlier, since normal non-genius sorts of folk liked their sleep. However, most of the staff were early risers. Raito bemoaned the fact that he was forced to stay up late into the night and wake up early in the morning to keep one step ahead of the other officers. No matter how idiotic and oblivious Matsuda was, if his father or the ever astute Aizawa caught on to the fact that he was the one who possessed the power to kill with just one's name and face…

Why, he might actually have to go behind bars. He scoffed at the fact, then burst into a full on cackle. "They would have to take me alive!" he cried, thought the notion that policemen would have to jump on him, and drag him to jail was rather unpleasant. He preferred not to cause a scene, even if he was going to jail.

"Hey Ryuk, what would happen if they ever caught me?" Raito inquired rather loudly, lifting an eyebrow, and turning to face the open doorway of the room nearest to him. Inside the room, the Shinigami was perched on the edge of the double bed, remote control grasped in his bony hand. He flipped through the TV stations with a flick of the arrow, but none of the programs on seemed to please him. If Raito had not known better, he might have thought Ryuk looked a bit down. On the contrary, Ryuk was just bored with what human television had to offer as it neared the early hours of the morning.

Others might contradict that this was the best time to watch television, but Ryuk happened to enjoy morning and afternoon television. Jerry Springer, courtroom TV, silly stupid animations, and cheesy soap operas were rather pleasing and quite entertaining to him. They were second only to apples. However, Ryuk was not addicted to daytime television, and only watched it when he was tired of watching Raito and the others research the Kira case. It was boring and often difficult to pretend he did not know things.

Luckily, Raito had removed the cameras from the premises after L and Watari's death, so that the others would not observe his interactions with Ryuk. Why put a perfectly expensive and furnished office building to waste when he could partially conduct his murderous empire from within?

Ryuk finally turned away from the television, after having flicked through the thousands of channels for the third or fourth time. His eyes held a glazed expression, unusual for a Shinigami, and he unfolded himself, floating over to where Light sat.

He cocked his head, attempting to remember the question Raito had asked. Fortunately, this didn't take very long, and within moments, recognition lit up his expression.

"Well Raito, that's for me to know, and you to find out," he said with a slightly evil sounding chuckle. Raito, not one to think lightly of Ryuk, who was after all a Death God, just nodded. Then he went back to gently nibbling on the end of the pen.

"Well when you put it that way Ryuk, I suppose it is best to avoid being captured altogether. Not that I would ever have that problem. I am, after all, Yagami Raito. I am a genius in line for the next position as head of the police chief, a graduate of Tokyo U at the top of my class, and I am the successor to L's detective empire. Who could ever foil me at my own game?"

Ryuk just responded with another creepy chuckle, which made the hair stand on the back of Light's neck as usual. He was reluctant to admit this however, and was proud of his self-control since this involuntary action remained invisible to the Death God. It wasn't fear… more like an uncomfortable awareness for what Ryuk knew that he did not. He was only terrified of death for the fact that all his efforts for these past 5 years would go to waste.

Raito felt the thoughts in his head begin to jumble and reluctantly admitted it was time to get some rest. He had been awake for the past 48 hours without stopping for anything beyond some hot, strong caffeine and a bit of food to keep himself working. Although he would never admit it, there were times that he just did not feel like sleeping, because sleep plagued him with strange dreams.

Sometimes they were sexual fantasies, sometimes intense nightmares that his victims would rise from the grave as zombies, and chase after him. Then there were the twisted wreckages of dream-turned-fantasy, which almost felt as if he was on a psychedelic trip, while intoxicated on some particularly strong drug. These dreams often started out simple and pleasant, turning into some Alice in Wonderland brand of disturbing.

Reluctantly, Raito dragged his fatigued human frame into the nearest comfortable bedroom. The one Ryuk had been in doubled as a business room, and faced the side of the building where the sun would rise in the morning. Raito felt particularly tired that night, and wasn't in the mood to be awoken until he was good and ready.

He trudged up the nearby staircase, opting for a room which had curtains. This room was right beside the one where he and L had slept during his incarceration, when L had suspected him (rightly so), of being Kira.

He momentarily wondered if it was wrong to suspect something supernatural might occur, sleeping so close to the room where the deceased had slept, occupying the space where the corpse of several years had once called his "home".

But he was too tired to bother to continue the thought pattern. With his mind turning to mush at sleep deprivation, he collapsed onto the bed without even bothering to change out of his clothes and into something more comfortable.

As his head hit the pillow, he thought mournfully of how his belt would probably dig into his flesh uncomfortably during the night, and leave marks that would mar his beloved person. But he was so tired, much too tired to remove the offending bit of leather from around his waist and throw it onto the floor.

So he let his eyes droop closed, and his mind headed off to Dreamland moments later.

Moments later, or at least what felt like it, Raito awoke. He lay comfortably in his bed in the silence, figuring it was around 5 or 6 am and the others had not arrived yet. He felt refreshed and eager.

Turning on the television, he scrawled down the names of a man who had chopped an old lady to death with an axe, a convenience store robber, and a deranged woman who had shot a man for walking on her lawn.

That settled, he folded the papers up into a square, and replaced them in the hidden pocket on his person. He was about to go acquire something to eat when he heard a strange noise coming from a nearby room.

Striding quickly to the door of his room, he poked his head out of the doorframe, and craned his neck to scan the narrow hallway. The unusual noises were stronger from his current position, standing outside the doorframe of his temporary bedroom. However, whatever was making these sounds was definitely still quite far from his current position.

Raito found he was strangely relieved that the noises were not coming from L's former bedroom, which has been his original line of thought. It was fortunately not supernatural, and so he had nothing to worry about.

He strode quickly down the hall, determined to rid himself from these awful sounds, and return his work space to a place of tranquility and solitude.

When he reached the door at the end of the hallway, he found that the noises had grown exceptionally loud. Rather perturbed by the fact that he was unable to place the sounds with an action or a reason, Raito decided to be cautious.

He placed his hand on the doorknob gently, just in case there might be a murderer in the next room. He found the thought to be ludicrous, but all the same, it could happen. There were some crazy people out there, doubly so for those who might want to get rid of L. And if anyone smart had made the link to this strange "abandoned" office building and the detective? Well, clearing security was never that difficult, as Wedy had once proved when she was still alive.

Tentatively, Raito tilted his wrist slowly to the left, turning the knob with this motion, in order to gain entrance to the room. He would later be reluctant to admit that he was sweating nervously and suffering heart palpitations. Gods did not have these sorts of reactions, and he might as well be one, what with the powers he had mysteriously acquired that fateful day, all those years ago.

The door of the room opened a crack, and Raito pressed his eye against it, determined to find the source of the noises.

Later, Raito would kick himself stupidly for not realizing Ryuk was nowhere in sight.

For now, Raito slowly leaned in; attempting to see what on earth was going on behind the door.

The sight of something moving helped the pieces of the puzzle click together in his head. Those were voices… and there were two people in there, moving and thrashing about.

Raito pushed the door open a little further in order to catch a glimpse of who these two people were, praying it was Aizawa and his father or Matsuda or Mogi. Someone he knew, engaged in some sort of fight.

What met his gaze was a startling sight.

Two black haired youth, namely Teru Mikami and L Lawliet were engaged in fornification on the table in the middle of the room.

Raito stumbled against the door in alarm, falling into it. He and the door slammed into the wall, startling the couple from their gyrations.

"Raito? God? Is that you?" Teru questioned, turning his lust filled eyes to Raito. If possible, the lust reflected seemed to intensify, and although Raito couldn't feel it, he had a sneaking suspicion Teru's hard-on had intensified.

"Blimey, Raito!" L said, in an English accent Raito had never heard before. "Come and join us, will you?"

"L… So you have come back from the grave, I see." Raito said nervously, clutching the door knob, and attempting to back out of the room. 'What on earth is going on?' he thought to himself. 'I killed L.. Er, Rem killed L in order to keep Misa and I alive. And Mikami… he has no idea of the location of this place. Oh God. This is worse than a murderer.'

Teru got up from the table and strode over to Raito, who averted his eyes so he would not have to see Mikami's penis. "C'mon Raito, have some fun with us! If we'd had any idea you were here when I arrived, we would have joined you in your bedroom."

Raito tried as possible to mask his expression of horror, but it was doing no good. His flawless acting skills paled at the horror of being forced into a threesome with two other guys. The situation wasn't even remotely arousing in the slightest, rather it was enough to take away all the hard-ons he'd had in his lifetime, which not surprisingly, was a small number. If you wanted to bother, it could easily be counted using fingers and toes.

"Get away from me!" he cried weakly, attempting to slap Mikami's hand away. However, the action failed. Although he had imagined it in his head, seen himself performing the action, nothing had happened. It seemed all the strength had been sapped from his body, and he felt himself powerless as Mikami dragged him over to the table.

If Raito had been paying attention, he would have noticed the table had morphed into a plush and comfy king size bed.

However, he was absorbed in his own terror as Teru and L eagerly removed all of the clothing on his person. Raito would have thanked his lucky stars they hadn't found the scraps of paper he kept on his person, evidence L could have held against him, if he hadn't been more distracted by his rapidly increasing nudity.

But as it was, the clothes fell or were kicked onto the floor, scraps of paper staying mercifully inside of their pocket hiding places. Mikami took extra care when removing the watch, licking a path up Raito's arm after completing the action, then biting and sucking on his neck.

L grabbed hold of the offending accessory, and clipped the watch back into place. Instead of putting it around his wrist though, he enclosed it around his penis. Since his member was thinner then the smallest clip, L settled for moving his prick back and forth through the "o" of the watch, moaning with pleasure as the silver scraped against his flesh.

Raito found himself unable to keep the look of horror from gracing his striking features, and he was forced to watch on in terror as L leaked pre-cum all over his expensive wrist watch. He was more worried about the tarnish it would receive from the semen, rather then the fact that L would somehow stumble across the mechanism to open the face of the watch, and uncover the piece of the Death Note inside. That might have had something to do with the fact that the watch was expensive, and he wasn't made of money, along with the fact that L's eyes were glazed over with lust.

Mikami had soon grown tired of licking and sucking on Raito's neck, shoulders, and lips. Raito had almost missed this, since he'd been frozen in place by his lack of muscular strength, and the fact that he was gazing horrorstruck at L's disturbing behaviour with his wristwatch.

Mikami had been suckling and nibbling on Raito's lips, grazing his teeth with his tongue. He had even taken advantage of Raito's horror, which resulted in his lips being slightly parted. This gave Mikami easy access to his oral cavern, where he gleefully licked and ravished.

But the lack of reciprocation bored him, so he sought to find a better target. Luckily, there'd been one right under him the entire time. Raito's penis! Gleefully, he began to suck and nibble at the tip, resulting in a slight hard-on from Raito (against his wishes of course).

L, who had by now grown bored of the wrist watch ministrations, decided to find something better to do. Mikami's rump looked deliciously scrumptious, but he'd already had a ton of fun at that, and Raito had always given him a huge hard-on… And if Mikami angled in a different way, he'd be free to pound the Kira suspect from behind.

Gleefully, L crawled behind Raito, and poised himself to enter the boy from behind. Lube was forgotten in such lust.

Raito was jolted from his horror from a burning pain in his behind, and he turned around, only to realize just what L was doing. Of course, the grunts of pleasure, the painful scraping sensation within him, and the sound of flesh smacking flesh would have given it away, even if he hadn't turned around to gaze at L's flushed face, earning a face full of uncontained spit.

Raito somehow managed to find the strength to cry out then and there, tears pricking his eyes. This could not be real. L was dead, he'd watched him die, felt him die. And Mikami… there was no way the boy would disrespect him by stripping him from his clothes and sucking on his dick. Mikami would never stoop to doing that, even if he was given permission from Raito himself. Both men were straight, Raito was well aware of that fact.

And yet, as a few tears escaped from the corners of his eyes, trailing down his cheeks, Raito began to wonder if he'd died in his sleep, and come to a special brand of hell.

But that was when he opened his eyes and sat up with a start, screaming loudly.

Chief Yagami had just entered his bedroom, and was shocked to hear his eldest child yelling and thrashing about, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Raito? What on earth is the matter?" Chief Yagami inquired, and footsteps from behind informed him he wasn't the only one troubled by Raito's shouts of terror.

"They were… they were… Oh, it was just a nightmare Dad!" Raito said, startled but ecstatic to find he was awake, and had entirely dreamed up the whole situation.

After a few moments of discussion and clarification, the door closed with a click, and Raito slumped back down on his pillow, curling up into a ball.

He was glad that it had all been a dream, but even the after affects of the nightmare would be hard to live with. Fortunately, over time the memories would ebb away.

But, why on earth did his butt hurt? And his wrist around the watch felt slimy… He's forgotten to take it off over night, but surely that must be the sweat that had poured out of him during the nightmare, thrashing about in his bedcovers from fear.

And unless he was imagining it, he was sure his penis was more than a little stiff.

Doubly sure was he that those disturbing noises had returned. But no one else seemed to hear them as he walked downstairs, shaking off the erection and the fear as best as he could.

Everyone crowded around him to make sure he was alright, but no one heard the disturbing noises that reverberated off the walls.

Was it really all a dream? Or was he the only one able to see and participate in this special supernatural illusion?

Raito choked down some saliva, his throat felt uncomfortably dry all of a sudden. Perhaps this was an aftereffect of the Death Note, temporary (or rather permanent) insanity.

FIN