Author's Note/Warning: From here, there will be quite a bit of language, hence the rating. In addition to this, both Matt and Mello smoke.

Thanks to my lovely beta, Annalisse Rubisher!

At the Price of Oblivion

II – Enter the Kira Case

"For fuck's sake, Matt, fucking slow down!"

The driver in question only grinned in response. The two runaways were speeding down the freeway in a brand new—and not to mention stolen—bright red sports car. It was roughly three in the morning, and Mello was both irritated and silently grateful that there had been no police cars so far. Matt loved cars, and didn't seem to mind the fact that they were topping 100 miles per hour on the dimly lit road as long as he was able to have his fun.

Another quick glance at Matt revealed he had just lit a cigarette, now holding the steering wheel with only one hand. Mello snarled and snatched it from his lips, taking a defiant drag from it as Matt stared open-mouthed. "Close your mouth. And watch the road before you get both of us killed!"

The redhead frowned but obediently turned his attention back to the front. Mello sighed and took another drag from the cigarette in his hand. Mello liked to think that he wasn't as much of an addict as Matt was when it came to smoking—he'd gotten over his frequent habit years ago and had switched to dark chocolate, though he would admittedly sneak in his nicotine here and there. The blond sighed and rolled down the window to flick the ashes out into the wind. "Hey, Matt."

Matt nodded. "Yeah."

There was an awkward moment of silence. Initially, Mello had intended to perhaps confide in his friend about how anxious he was regarding meeting up with L for the first time, but at that moment quickly decided against it. Mello was the hardcore, fearless leader—showing fear, even to Matt, would ruin his character completely. Instead, he brought the cigarette back to his lips and responded with a slow exhale, "When do you think we're going to get there, anyway? You sure we're not lost?"

Matt rolled his eyes from behind his goggles. They weren't practical to wear in the least, but the teenager scarcely went without them. "I'm guessing another hour, tops. I was able to track down where the email originated from—it was reallyfucking hard, though. L's security is tougher than the fucking CIA, I bet."

There was another drift into wordlessness after that, only the sound of the tires on the road and the wind rushing against the car replacing any conversation. Mello released the butt of his cigarette out the window and leaned partially out the window, eyes closed and the wind whipping his hair around his face.

He was nervous. It had been years since he had talked to L—and it had never been in person, either. Nobody at Wammy's House, with the exception of the adults in charge, had ever seen the great L in person. All they knew was that they aspired to be like him.

L would probably be far from welcoming the two of them, Mello mused, with his face still bathing in the wind. But that didn't matter. Ever since he had sat down with all the other kids at the orphanage and had a group conversation with L for the first time via laptop, he knew that he would never be satisfied until he saw the man in the flesh. He tried so hard to please L, without ever having seen his face. And yet, over years and years of studying and pure misery, he was still in second place—under Near. Number One.

At least Near wouldn't get to see L before he did. Mello opened his eyes and frowned. He could see thousands of little lights from the approaching skyscrapers now. But there wasn't even any satisfaction in knowing that; Near didn't even care about L. Hell, Mello was almost certain that Near didn't even like him. He never spoke about him unless questioned by Roger or Mr. Wammy. He never displayed interest in the scoreboards. He even went as far as to requesting to sit out of the rare group chats they would have with L. It sent a snarl over the blond's features thinking about him. Near didn't deserve first place.

"Hey, you done sulking over there? Close the damn window."

Matt's voice shook him out of his thoughts and he pulled the switch up with a scowl at his friend. Even if Matt was sometimes hard to stand, Mello was grateful to have grown up with him. Matt had been his only friend, and the only person to put up with all of Mello's shit—including all of the fights, all of the rules broken, and all of the verbal lashings. It was because of Matt that Mello first became aware of his temper, and had since been more careful not to lose his cool.

Mello's expression softened at the thought and he breathed out softly. "I'm going to sleep. Wake me when we're there, okay?"

"You got it, boss."

"Ryuuzaki?"

L blinked sleepily, glancing up at a blurry figure. Watari stood over him with a familiar, friendly smile. He gingerly helped pull L up to a sitting position and gestured to the coffee that sat on the table in front of the sofa he was on. "The task force should be arriving in roughly half an hour. I thought you might like to be up with enough time to prepare."

The detective nodded groggily and reached for his coffee. Watari had to hide a smile at how childish L looked—the man had raised L since he was very young, and while he had certainly grown since then, he still maintained many habits from his youth. The young man in question sipped his coffee, wiping the sleep from his eyes with his free hand.

"Thank you, Watari," L finally spoke after another few sips from the warm cup in his hand. "It's been a while since I've slept that well."

The older man chuckled and grabbed a tray of fruit from a metal cart, placing it on the table where the cup had previously been. "I'd hardly say that four hours is a decent amount of sleep, Ryuuzaki. You really ought to try and regulate your schedule a bit better. The bags under your eyes are just dreadful."

L shrugged him off and plucked a strawberry from the platter. "I've become accustomed to it by now. I can sleep once Kira is brought to justice."

Watari made no move to respond and instead nodded before turning to walk away with the cart. It had been a very long time since the first day of this case, and it was quite evident in L. He was drained both emotionally and physically, and yet Kira seemed no closer to being proven and persecuted. Even the task force would murmur about how L seemed ready to keel over at any minute, whether it be from exhaustion, stress, or illness.

The door softly clicked shut behind Watari, and L let out a gravelly sigh, glancing up at the computer screens on the wall. There were surveillance cameras across the entire building and around the perimeter as well, so why—?

L bolted forward, the remains of his coffee sloshing dangerously close to the edge of his mug. One by one, the screens were going black. The lights were still on; it couldn't be a power outage. L hurriedly shuffled over to the desk and stared as the remaining cameras shut down. Were they being sabotaged, or was it something less ominous?

L pressed a slender finger down on the intercom button. "Watari, can you explain this? Why have the security cameras shut down? Are the motion detectors off as well?"

"…"

Silence. Watari had access to communication with L at all times, and it wasn't like him to oversee a situation like this. Any idea of this being a coincidence left the detective's mind, and a solemnity came over him. Perhaps this was Kira's way of sealing off L's fate, trapped in his own headquarters.

A frown replaced L's blank expression, his voice edging with growing concern. "Watari!"

A sharp click followed by a familiar voice came from behind him, "Not exactly."

L knew better than to whirl around, which would be the common reaction for most people. Instead he closed his eyes and relaxed his tense stance. Without turning to face his attacker or even looking up to see a reflection on the screens, he knew there was a gun being pointed at his head. And yet, even with this knowledge, L let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "I don't think holding someone at gunpoint is exactly a standard introduction, Mihael."

Mello visibly flinched and gripped the gun with more force. He assumed that L knew the names of all the children, but it was still a bitter shock to hear it spoken for the first time since his arrival at Wammy's House, nearly twenty years ago. "I don't think using my first name is a standard first impression," he snapped back, realizing too late the severity of his tone. Of course. L probably knew that he didn't go by his birth name, but had nothing else to call him. The two of them had never spoken—it wasn't exactly the detective's fault. He let out a frustrated exhale and muttered, "It's 'Mello', now."

It was only then that L turned to look at his number two successor face-to-face for the first time in either of their lives. L knew what Mello looked like from the pictures in the private file with all of his information kept at the orphanage. However, the photograph had been taken when Mello was just a kid—and the person standing in front of him was no child. In addition to this, the behavior reports he would receive from Roger, the manager at Wammy's, gave him a relatively clear idea on what to expect from Mello. He was dangerous.

However, this was the first time Mello had laid eyes on the man he had been led to believe his whole life was a god. He was not surprised, nor was he seeing exactly what he had pictured, either; for some reason, L's bizarre appearance seemed to fall perfectly into place. The blond's expression softened and he lowered his gun, maintaining eye contact with L. "We're going to be staying a while."

L's response wasn't a question: "Mail."

"Yo. I go by Matt, okay?"

Mello turned in slight surprise to the sight of Matt casually leaning in the doorway. The teenager didn't seem nearly as fazed by L's presence as Mello was—Matt was in third because he was incredibly intelligent, and achieved high scores on the "Board" without really trying. He wasn't aiming to be L's successor like the rest of the residents at the orphanage; rather, Matt was more interested in having fun and hanging out with Mello. The auburn headed teen in question chortled and adjusted his goggles. "Sorry about the cameras and shit, by the way. Had to get in without triggering all the alarms." He offered the two others in front of him a smirk and added, "And by the way, Wammy is fine. I just cut the communication and locked him inside some closet. Let him know 'no hard feelings' for me?"

Mello gaped at his friend, whereas L was wearing what could almost be described as a smile, if it were not for the pained expression on the rest of his features. "Let him out, if you don't mind, Matt. And…ah, Mello, yes?" L shuffled back over to the couch to snatch a chunk of cantaloupe from the platter of fruit, as if nothing had happened. "I can only assume why you are here unannounced."

Matt disappeared behind the corner, laughing to himself. Mello stood awkwardly for a moment before sitting himself on the edge of a chair across L. L glanced up curiously at the sound of the distinctive squeak of leather. A closer look revealed exactly how much the formerly young boy had changed since he had arrived at the orphanage, when L first got a hold of his documents. His hair, which had previously framed his face in a neat bob, was now ragged and straighter in appearance. The cotton shirt and pants were switched for a strikingly bold leather vest, pants, and shoes. And though it was only an accessory around his neck, perhaps the most prominent feature was the rosary swaying low across his chest.

But perhaps there was one thing that hadn't changed, the detective mused, reaching for another morsel of his breakfast. Mello's eyes, though more sinister and sharper now, were the same blue they had been when he was just a boy.

Mello shifted uncomfortably under L's judging gaze, and pulled out a partially eaten bar of chocolate from the inside of his pocket, snapping off a corner of it and sucking on the bitter flavor as he stared back at the man across him. "Look," he finally began, leaning back in an effort to look less unnerved than he felt. "You know why we're here. The Kira case isn't exactly a secret throughout the world, let alone Japan. It's been going on for long enough. You may not admit it, L, but I think you are at a dead end and you need help. That's the reason."

Almost as if he hadn't even heard, L licked the juice off of his fingers and placed a thumb to his lips. He had been doing it in front of the task force for so long now, it had become a habit without so much as a thought towards it. "I can't say I'm surprised," he responded dully. "I understand the appeal from your perspective. However…

"I know that you are very well aware of the risks of this case. Thousands have already died, and I am extremely fortunate that I myself have not been killed up until now. I believe having you and Matt involved in this case will be detrimental," the detective stated bluntly. Mello wasn't sure whether to feel angry or surprised. "I'm not an idiot, Mello. I know you don't plan to back out on this. I just hope you will reconsider, for both your sake and for the rest of the people who have been working with me to hunt down Kira."

The young man across L sat silent for a second more before a malicious grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. A short laugh escaped his lips. "You're damn right. My whole life I've been working my ass off to maybe have a chance of replacing you, but like hell I'm going to wait until you're dead before I work in your field. I've waited long enough. You might not like it, but I've earned my fucking right to work with L, and if I die…well, it's not like it's the worst thing that could happen." Mello's dark smile faltered and he swallowed loudly, head falling once again. "But you never had to deal with that, did you? You were God, and have been all this time."

L stood and slowly made his way to the stairs. He paused at the bottom and, without looking at Mello, answered, "The problem with playing God is that in itself. I'm not God, Mello. In fact…" L paused, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "I think that soon enough, you'll find that the two of us are more similar than a deity and his follower would be."