A/N: Hm. No reviews? C'mon. I people are reading and following. Drop me a line or two, please. It's super important and no feedback can be highly discouraging.
Anywho~This chapter was betaed by the loved ObviouslyADeathNoteFan.
House of Cards
Part Two: Arrangements
Pink tricked from his skin onto the tiles. The water had long since run cold, but the blood remained, staining him. L leaned his forehead against sticky shower wall, utterly exhausted. There was only so much soap and a shower could fix, and he doubted he would be getting sleep any time soon. Not with his head like this, fuzzy and throbbing it chewed on memories that would never fade. He balled his hand into a fist and helplessly beat at the wall with weak, childish punches. He wouldn't cry. There were too many of his tears shed already.
Why? Why did Light have to be Kira? Why did she have to betray him? Why did he have to love her? The next year would be a struggle, he knew, because recovery from the bullet wounds and physical therapy to regain use of her hands after breaking them would be a trial. She would be like a baby bird, powerless in his hands. Light was going to hate him for that. Neither of the liked being dependent on another, being stripped of their power.
She would learn.
He was all she had left.
With Mrs. Yagami and Sayu missing, and Misa on the run, there was no one for Light to turn to but him. This was not what he wanted. He desired her affections freely, for her to come to him as an equal, even a rival. It did not help that he was not the most nurturing type.
L sighed and turned off the water. He needed to get back to the hospital. Make a few phone calls. Get his head clear. He pinched the bridge of his nose and grabbed a towel. It was white. Why did everything have to be white? He curled his fingers into the fabric before patting down. Clothes were difficult to put on while wet. It was routine, this ritual of cleaning. To strip, shower and start the day anew. It was something he had done for years without thought.
He hated sleep, but the feel of warm water on his skin always felt cleansing, as it it could wash him down to his core. L wondered if anything would strip the stain of the last few months from his soul. He wiped his face and looked down at the towel. Pink. Would he ever be clean?
Balling up the towel, he dumped it in a bin and padded into his bedroom. It was a spartan area, with the only indulgence being the queen-sized bed taking up the whole of the area. He lived in many lavish hotels during cases, usually for security and convenience reasons, but now he was in one of his many bolt hole around the world. There were only three small rooms in each. A bathroom connected to a bedroom and a computer room for him to work in. There was a tiny kitchenette at the edge of the bedroom, and that was where Watari prepared snacks and tea...back when he was alive.
L nibbled on his thumb and opened his closest. He was an adult, fully capable of taking care of himself despite what others believed. He did not like to cook, clean and managed his finances, but he could. Whammy's House did not allow him to leave utterly inept. But he had no idea about how to care for others. When Light was released from the hospital, what could he do? She could not live here. It would be damaging to her fragile mental health to isolate her to only his company after everything she went through.
Pulling a plain t-shirt from the orderly row of hangers, L dressed himself. It felt nice to have the soft fabric against him instead of cloth that was stiff and sticky with blood. He snagged a pair of jeans and buttoned them on. L then walked back into the bathroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was not the handsomest of men, but even he had seen better days. His perpetual dark circles looked more like someone clocked him in both eyes, and said eyes were bloodshot. His rat nest of hair laid in a tangled disarray that he did not even want to think about taking a comb to while wet. And he had lost weight. There was a sunken hollowness to his cheeks that was foreign to him, and made his nose and eyes look huge.
With a sigh, he allowed his hair to cover most of his face and stepped back.
That was not the face of a man who was ready to take care of his sick "wife". That was the face of psyche ward patient. Pride would need placing aside. Perhaps its was time to make that first of those many phone calls. He fetched his phone from where he left it on the counter and sat on the bed, bare feet curled in the beige carpet. Quickly, L tucked his knees under his chin, heels pressed to the edge of the mattress, toes dangling in the air. Much better. He could think better this way.
With one hand, he dialed a number he only called when there was either an emergency or he needed a safe place to rest after a hazardous case took its toll on his health.
L held the device at his ear with two fingers and rested his chin on the back of the palm he had laid on his knees. It rang twice.
"L? Has something gone amiss with the Kira case?"
He tilted his head so that his cheek rested against bony knuckles, "Good evening Roger. I believe we have many things to speak about. First and foremost, however, is about the closing of the Kira case. It's over. I'm returning to Whammy's House to recover."
"I expected as much, especially since you were the ward of Mister Whammy. His death must have hit you hard."
"Indeed. I find myself quite lonely without him. Strange, isn't it?"
"When are you planning on returning to England? I can book you the next flight to London."
L grimaced, "That won't be necessary Roger. There are...circumstances preventing my immediate return. When I can, I will report in posthaste."
"L...are you in some kind of trouble?"
"It could be called that. Nothing I cannot handle. But I wished to offer a warning before I returned...I will not be alone. I will be bringing someone with me."
Roger was silent. The old man had been long time friends with the founder of the Whammy House, a specialized training facility for young geniuses whose main objective was to create the perfect detective. L was the fruit of the initial program, of which he was the only survivor. The others lost their minds, driven insane by the expectations and the consequences of failure. One committed suicide, another ran off and was murdered and the third in his group was never stable to begin with and went on a killing spree. A few years ago, L had to go to Los Angeles to deal with that matter. It was not one of his prouder moments.
"Roger?"
"Is this someone a candidate for succession?"
L wanted to laugh at that. To think, Kira as the inheritor of his title as L. Oh, she was brilliant, ruthless and capable. If he wanted to, he could easily turn her into a worthy successor to his solitary throne. But that would be cruel.
"No. But they have come to be quite...important to me and will need a place to recover from their injuries. They were critically wounded, and I find that I am...not prepared to nurse another human being back to health."
"Whammy's House is a private facility. You have no right to bring outsiders here."
L knew this would be a difficult conversation, "Roger. It is not that this person is incapable of handling my mantel as L, quite the opposite, had circumstances been different, I would have brought them to Whammy's House for induction the day I met them. However, things are as they are, and I am asking for this favor. Maybe, once they are recovered, they can take over Quillish Whammy's post as Watari."
"You trust this person that much?"
Trust? No. Trust was shattered a long time ago. But love overcame all, yes? His foolish heart refused to give up on her. He would cling to Light until her dying breath and forever after.
"I've lost a great deal in the past three months. Allow me to keep someone important to me close. After all, I've never asked for much."
"Very well, we will prepare a room for them for when you arrive."
"Thank you, Roger."
The line went dead.
Now, arrangements were made. All he had to do was wait. Once Light was safe to leave the hospital, he would take her to England where she could recover. All that needed to be done before then was some paper work. L uncurled and snapped shut the phone.
He could not call himself the best three detectives in the world if he could not forge some documents.
Within the hour, he had falsified all the needed papers to get Light out of the country and was ready to return to the hospital. As he turned off his computers, his stomach growled. L blinked. A stop by convenience store might not go amiss. If what the doctor said was true and the best thing he could do for Light was get healthy, then eating was the next step.
L grabbed his wallet and keys and tucked them away, then grabbed his laptop bag. There was no point in being slack. Time would pass no faster if sat staring at the wall than if he worked on some pathetically simply cases that the police could not figure out for some reason. With one last look over the room, L slipped into the night.
Morning would come soon enough.
-tbc-
A/N: (Scheming L is scheming. But what will Light think of his plans once she wakes? Please review! A few words of feedback mean a great deal to a writer. See y'all tomorrow.)
