Disclaimer: All of you reading this should already know that Death Note (and consequently all its characters) was created by Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. Our beloved Death Note characters came from the minds of those two geniuses, not lil ol me. Any likeness of my fic to the series/manga or its characters should be assumed to be a reference/allusion or otherwise accidental. Thank you. Enjoy.
Life After Death
In one startling motion, the body laying beneath the blanket jackknifed, sending the thin sheet fluttering to the floor. It was a young man who had risen so abruptly, his eyes wide with panic, his dark hair disheveled in the back, and in the front plastered to his forehead with a new break of sweat. He was gulping down air as if realizing for the first time that it was an essential stipulation to his life, and that he had not been getting enough.
His mind was reeling, his thoughts scattered. For the most fleeting moment he had no idea what had happened or, more importantly, who he was. Then, clearing away the clutter in his brain with a deep breath of air, he remembered.
He was L.
And he was alive.
Eyes as dark and deep as the night sky swept the dim room he was in, quickly absorbing every detail. Aside from the bed he slumped in and the desk to his right, the room was sparse of furniture.
L swung his legs off the bed and as soon as his toes touched the thick Berber carpet, he woke up.
-x-
L tipped his head back and trained a blank gaze onto the ceiling, the chair he was crouched on slowly rolling back with this movement.
He scolded himself for dozing off…again. That was the second time this week. Though inexcusable, especially for the renowned detective that he was, L still could not fathom a reason why he was so unfocused as of late. What perplexed him even more was the dream that kept recurring this past month whenever he caught a wink of sleep. It always began with him jerking awake from his 'death' four years ago, and ended with him waking up before his feet fully touched the floor.
The dream ran though his mind once more, although this time he was conscious, picking apart the memory piece by piece. After the shock and bewilderment had worn off, he remembered being slightly relieved. Faking one's death was of course a feat anyone would be glad to have gotten over, but for L, it was more genuine than he would've liked.
L moved his thoughts past the part that featured in his dreams to when he made it out the door and down the hall. He had found her at the kitchen table with one coffee mug in her hand, a second one in front of an empty seat across from herself.
He had taken an enormous risk, putting his life in the hands of this girl. His contact.
Even four years later, he still mused at the recklessness with which he had behaved…and at the success of it all. With only a 74% chance of success at most, that left at least a 36% margin for error. There had been too many variables that could've affected the outcome, too many factors left to fate.
Still, despite the flaws, if the plan panned out -which it obviously did- it would be…grand.
-o-o-o-
One month before his staged death, L had an epiphany. An eerie moment of clarity. In that moment, he realized that in order to catch Kira, in order to prove that Light Yagami was Kira, something drastic had to be done. L had to die.
Perhaps it was the fact that he had been at this quite longer than he had anticipated. A month short of a year and he had a deficient amount of evidence against Light Yagami. Or perhaps it was his determination, his utter conviction in wanting to solve this case, to win, that pushed him to go this far. Whatever it was… L believed that this was it. All or nothing.
Of course, no one from the task force could be in on it. That risked compromising the entire plan. But Light had to believe that he, L, was dead. Then without anyone's knowing, he could keep a meticulous, unwavering observation on Light Yagami. On Kira.
Following his death, someone from the orphanage would succeed him, this L knew. He also knew that if he was to go through with faking his death, then unexpectedly choosing a successor now could later be viewed as a tip off to this plot. That was just one of the variables he had no control over if this was to work; whether Near or Mello took his place. Though briefly contemplating the two, the former was likely to rise to the task.
There were also the details of his death. It had to be convincing; they had to see his body, had to see that he had really died. This obstacle had L stumped for nearly a week, seeing as there was no way he could simply act through all of that. After countless hours spent on research and deliberation, she popped into his head.
L called in the favor. He had called her; a brilliant scientist specializing in chemistry and genetics, and a hopefully still reliable advocate. She turned out to be more than that; she was dedicated and unhesitating. At his request, and after two weeks of testing and trial and error experiments, she developed a serum to stop his heart completely and a second formula to restart it…if it got into his system in time. Another variable to consider.
Imagine he took this serum and he collapsed from heart failure…Who would give him the reversing solution? Watari? No…there was no discreet way Watari could inject him. It would also bring about suspicion if Watari suddenly drove off with his lifeless body and did not return. In the end, the serum was altered to give L more time. With the first, he only had half an hour to get the corrective into his heart. With the new and improved formula, so to speak, he had exactly five hours.
On the day L decided to die, he tapped a select few of the surveillance cameras at headquarters and linked them to his contact. From two buildings over, she would watch, waiting for the moment of his 'death'.
Unfortunately, on that same November day Watari was killed moments before the serum took effect. When L keeled over, falling out of his chair, he died with the regret that his good friend, Quillsh Wammy had truly died, without the opportunity to be brought back.
For the next five hours, L was dead.
The first hour consisted of the task force members combing the building, searching for the missing Shinigami -who had already crumbled away into sand- and trying to figure out what had just happened.
The next hour consisted of the task force transporting L's lifeless body to a private morgue in attempt to keep his passing a secret from the world- for if the public knew that the world's top justice defending genius was gone, chaos was sure to develop.
In the hour that followed, the body of the world's greatest detective was brought to a funeral home and lain into a coffin that was closed -supposedly- forever, waiting to be buried beneath six feet of soil and roots and earthworms.
In hour four, the coffin was opened by two people handpicked by L before his death, and his form was lifted out and placed onto a stretcher, and was then covered by a sheet and wheeled out into the back of a hearse, where his contact was waiting. After a smooth drive through the oncoming night, the stretcher was hoisted up into the back of a helicopter, in which the pilot had been paid quite generously not to ask any questions.
After another hour, the helicopter landed on a secluded helipad and L's body was driven to its last destination. Her house. She was next to his body for the duration of the ride to the isolated building she called home. When they arrived, she stepped out of the van alone, save for the body laying stiff and cold on the gurney which she wheeled awkwardly through her back doorway and into the guest bedroom. His body was rolled somewhat roughly onto the bed, and after injecting the reversing solution directly into his heart with forty-five minutes to spare, she retreated into the kitchen to wait for him to awaken.
-x-
In the year that followed, L covertly collaborated with one of his successors, Near. Counting himself, the scientist, and Near, there was only a total of three people aware of L's continuing existence.
Prodigy and successor exchanged information and formed tactics together, working to bring down the evil that believed he was God.
Only with the combined efforts of L and his successors, which surprisingly included the Second and Third as well, Kira had been brought to justice and, finally, was defeated.
-o-o-o-
Bee-beep.
The tinny sound pulled L's attention out from the secluded corners of his mind and onto the bright screen before him. He quickly scanned the multiple tabs and windows open before finding the one that was blinking.
He clicked it, causing it to pop to the foreground. The webpage had reloaded and a request for an online conference had been sent by Deneuve. To the world, Deneuve was the third best detective. To L, Deneuve was Near; his successor and, on occasion, partner… to an extent.
L dragged the mouse to the little gray box and clicked 'Accept'.
A video feed appeared on his computer, with a pale form dominating most of the screen. Crouched on the floor in front of the computer was Near, snow-white hair cascading down his cheeks and forehead as he tilted his head to face the camera. While L could see his successor, an ornate letter 'L' was all that appeared on the screen at the other end.
Putting his lips to the microphone, he murmured the familiar greeting:
"This is L."
Author's Note: Tah~da. My newest Death Note fic. I do have an OC. Which you will probably meet in the next chapter. So. There you have it... Please review? Even if its just to say that you like it or not, I'd still love to hear what you think... Also. I'd love to say that I've been hit with inspiration and will now write in a more frequent pattern... but that would probably be a lie. Sadly- whether it be lack of time, or lack of inspiration- I hardly ever sit down and write anymore. I'll definitely try to write some more. You should all just add me to your authors/story alerts so you'll know when I update. Yeah? Sounds like a plan. (: