Nda

GhostWhisperer!AU: I had to split the story in two because it was long. Here is it the first part, with a ghost whisperer!Light, Mello who doesn't care about shit and my poor writing skills dealing with drugs abuse. Hint of Mello/Matt and Light/L.

IV. Drugs

Light was sitting in the corner of a large living room, leaning against soft cushions with a pile of untouched books besides him. A man with blond hair and a serious look twisting a baby face made his way through the room, carrying objects that he carefully placed on the blue carpet covering the whole floor. The blond cast a blunt look at Light, at the unhealthy paleness of the skin the younger man covered with an austere composure and long black sleeves, in vain. Mihael has asked for months if it worthed it and has warned about the consequences of those reckless actions, but Light's wall of convictions was unbreakable and was by now the last sparkle of life in his eyes.

"If he knew, he'd be disappointed. Well, who fucking cares." Mihael sat across the floor muttering cusses under his breath and his hands expertedly started to compact the substance together. A hot poker was already heated against the open flame of a gas cooker and Light's gaze lost in the waltzing flames, ignoring the voices whispering at his ears. Earthbound spirits of people who have died sought for his help, prayed for a kind voice to delay significant messages to the living; there were many of them, pushing one another to catch Light's attention, but the man didn't care about their futile needs -who he was looking for wouldn't suit in that annoying cackle.

Meanwhile Mihael pressed the substance into a black button the size of a thumbprint and then he applied the hot poker and the black button smokes softly. An alluring, sweet smell filled the room. Light stretched a hand towards the straw Mihael applied to the pot and slowly brought it to his lips, the expression of a thirsty man lost in the desert. A dull warmth radiated in his chest when he inhaled sharply and the voices instantly shut up altogether; Light's eyes glazed and half closed, bathing in the soothing relief offered by the drug.

Hashish, marijuana, heroin, cocaine... Nothing has had the desired effects. A state of drowsiness alternated with euphoria, his mind spinning like a wheel as the heart rate increased just the moment before panic attacks froze him in place and his sensory perception was so distorted his whole entity was full of voices and colours so brilliant to blind him. No one of those drugs helped Light to ignore the pleas of mercy knocking at the door of his exhaustion, until he asked Mihael to let him try the opium the blond himself smoked from time to time. Witness of Yagami's radical change after L's death, the blond man didn't think trying would destroy further a body on the edge of pollution. He could understand somehow or so he pretended to, playing with the black feathers of the boa around his neck; he's felt the same after Mail's death after all.

He wouldn't expect opium was the key Light was desperately looking for.

The substance helped Light to silence the voices of the deads buzzing around him non-stop, giving him finally the peaceful state he needed to accomplish his task. Laid on the cushions, the boy fell in a dreamy state, feeling his spirit slowly separating from anything mortal.

It was almost a relief, to feel nothing and connect with the void, capable of filling his own entity in the whole space and being nothing at the same time. Light's limbs became heavy and relaxed against the cushions as his consciousness wandered in the realm of dreams at the quest of what was lost; what even his ability to talk with the deads was of no help.

Mihael took the straw from Light's grip and rested by the man's side as he always did, wondering when the mortal addiction would make its course. A fake happiness indulged on Light's lips, followed by the soft whispering of a name that felt like a dagger thrown at Mihael.

After his boyfriend Mail, he had lost even the man he trusted the most and who he owed everything. L. The same man Light considered his only and only one half. No question why L's death crashed Yagami's world and purpose in life -why was he gifted to help spirits to pass through the light if he couldn't even speak with the one he loved the most? Why was life so unfair?

"Maybe it's just not the right timing or he has nothing left to say." Mihael suggested, dealing with a furious Light who kept scratching the crook of his tormented elbow, prey of the adrenaline of the drugs. "Or simply he doesn't want to speak with a junkie."

"But Mail came back to talk to you, so L has to talk to me too."

Touché. The blond man didn't need to remember the day Light showed up in his workplace, asking questions about the murder of Mail Jeevas and if he has ever believed in the possibility to talk with the deads. The loss stung at the corners of eyes and grit his teeth even after that good-looking boy proved him to know Mail, to hear his voice, to be able to speak through him... And he let him relay Mail's message, his last words for the one he has cared the most, the one he was so strongly connected to such an extend death couldn't tear them apart. But Mail's spirit had to pass through the light and Mihael had to let him go.

Honestly, Mihael didn't still stand Yagami and there was the unsaid rule between them to not mention Mail, so when Light broke the promise it took him three chocolate bars to prevent him from smashing the man's head against the concrete. He would do it one day anyway, but the result would be a scuffle between lonely men who didn't know what to do with their own lives.

Opium didn't let Light to speak with L's ghost, who was probably watching the world rotting with a lollipop stuck in his mouth and the inevitable impassive look of his. Nonetheless, it let Light remember all the moments they shared together in his drowsy state -the tennis matches, the crumbles of sweet everywhere, the first kiss, the long-hours talks, them stargazing in the hot summer, L burning the oven, the fight for supremacy in bed, when Light spoke about his ability and the sceptic L believed him, when they simply cuddled in bed in one another's arms and Light felt safe enough to not hear a single voice but L's.

Light didn't care if his body would give in or if Mihael would stop helping him out that atrocious self-destruction. He would spoke to L's ghost. At any cost.

"Tch... Enlighten me, ghost whisperer-san, what the fuck would you talk with his ghost, mh?"

"That- That justice doesn't exist. And that I miss him."