Feline Faults

ChipsAhoyPup

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. Never have, never will. (This doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though.)

The darkness that L had been swimming in dissolved, and he could see again. He scampered to his paws. Or, he attempted to. He let out a small mew, a mixture of pain and surprise, and collapsed the instant he stretched his waist upward. Wha… The cat twisted his neck to the side and inspected his body. He didn't notice anything out-of-place.

Then he realized that the pain had radiated outward from his stomach area. Cautious, he rolled over onto his back and tilted his chin towards his chest.

What is that? A thin stripe slinked its way up from the middle section of his abdomen, stopping abruptly right before his ribs. A scab was forming at the base of the stripe, which looked similar to a strip of lace.

Tentative, L stretched his neck forward. When his muzzle finally reached his stitched-up wound, his anterior was curled up while his posterior lay limply underneath it. Despite his uncomfortable position, he began rasping his tongue against the scab.

He only got a couple of licks in before the sound of a door slamming open echoed through the corridors. Only then did L notice his surroundings. He was trapped up in a small kennel. In front of him were metal bars with gaps in between that would just barely allow his paw to squeeze through. The sound of meowing came from every inch of the room. L recognized this as a cat kennel. The only time he had been here before was when his owner had decided to go on a vacation, but that was only for a couple of days.

An all-too-familiar voice shouted, "I don't have identification that he's mine, but he is! Who else would adopt a cat with a bullet hole in his stomach?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but unless you provide identification, you have to pay 9275 yen* in order to take him home," Another voice responded, this one monotone and unfamiliar.

"…Fine. Here's your fucking yen." There was a moment of silence, obnoxious meowing the only sound to keep L company. He pricked his ears and could faintly hear the rustling of a wallet. The crinkling sound faded quickly into footsteps that advanced towards L.

The metal bar door in front of him slowly creaked open. Before L could move a muscle, two quick yet gentle hands grabbed him. He was gingerly lifted out of the cage and handed to a different pair of hands.

"Hello again." L glanced up. He was greeted with a smile, which wasn't all so pleasant when mixed with the stench of chocolate. The cat tried not to openly show his disgust, but Mello must've noticed his nose wrinkle some, because his smile turned into a frown. "Sorry. Do you not like the smell of sugar?"

L blinked blankly. It wasn't so much that he didn't like sugar. In fact, he'd never tasted it before. The reason he didn't like the stench was because the first and only time he had smelled it was when he was in Mello's apartment, and Mello's apartment also smelled of urine. Not a nice mixture.

Before L could respond with an action of some sort, Mello turned and briskly walked out of the cat kennel. The meows that had previously drowned almost everything out dissolved into the pitter-pattering of rain. L tilted his head, twitching a bit when a droplet of rain lightly struck his ear. It hadn't been raining when he was carried to the vet.

"You were unconscious for a couple of days," Mello explained, seeming to sense the confusion pulsing from the feline's fur. "I tried to get you back from the vet's, but they told me that you weren't recovered enough. Plus, I didn't have proof that I owned you. After a day, without warning, they sent you over to a kennel, and I had to track you down."

A strong gust suddenly blew against L's face. It was cool to the touch, breezing past his fur on his face, chest, and… neck. When L felt the wind hit his neck, his eyes widened. He tilted his head downwards and stared in disbelief.

Where his collar had previously been embedded, there now was a patch of scarred flesh, which wound around his whole neck. "Oh yeah, and while you were at the vet, they said the collar was a hazard. So they shaved the fur around your neck and had to cut the collar off, along with some of your… er… skin…" L winced at the description. But even though it sounded painful, it didn't currently hurt.

"By the way," The blonde who was carrying L started out-of-the-blue as they approached his apartment, "I have decided that, since you gave my mission your best shot and literally took a bullet for me, you will get your new master ASAP."

L gaped, eyes wide. Surely he wasn't serious? The cat had failed his mission, miserably, and had even forced Mello to fork over money just to get him back. But Mello wasn't the type to joke around, and was usually blunt. Realizing that he was finally getting the master he had wanted since he was first tied to the tree, he became elated and relieved.

The chocolate addict opened the door. L expected a certain golden retriever who shared the house to jump all over his owner. But the enthusiastic canine didn't come bounding out from the kitchen. The sound of barking came from Mello's bedroom. L instantly suspected that something was wrong. Mello said that he never let anyone in his room, including Matt. The cat watched as Mello slowly walked towards a table that had a rope, a handkerchief, and a cardboard box.

Warning bells rang in L's head. He clawed at his captor's arms, fear replacing the sense of relief and safety that had overwhelmed him only moments ago. Before he could do any serious damage to Mello, though, something was wrapped around his paws. It tightened violently, and his four limbs were pulled together.

L hissed, simultaneously thrusting his head towards Mello's arm again. He tried to bite him, to sink his teeth into this traitor's flesh. But he knew he failed once more when he felt a piece of cloth smother his mouth. Mello tied the back of the cloth to the back of L's head.

The cat was pulled close to Mello's face, so close that he could see the deviant look of triumph sparkling in the traitor's eyes. "You'll get your master, alright," he hissed. "So long as you can stay alive until he opens the door."

The feline was tossed carelessly into the cardboard box, which instantly shut. The sound of something being ripped and placed on the top of the box filled the uncomfortable, agonizing silence. As L lay there, neglected, abused, immobile, he could only think one thing: I will never trust humans again.

A/N 9275 yen = 100 US dollars. I did research, and 100 dollars is typically how much you're supposed to pay for a cat at a shelter.