Warning: this chapter contains imagined violence that isn't very graphic, but some people might find disturbing. If you are such a person then you probably shouldn't have watched Death Note in the first place, but I thought I'd warn you anyway.

I will keep quiet, you won't even know I'm here,

You won't suspect a thing, you won't see me in the mirror,

But I've crept into your heart, you can't make me disappear,

Til I make you.

I've made myself at home in the cobwebs and the lies,

I'm learning all your tricks, I can hurt you from inside...

I made myself a promise, you would never see me cry...

Til I make you.

-'The Devil Within', Digital Daggers

Chapter 11: Kira

The Task Force headquarters were eerily still.

Light was alone in a room of white walls and blank computer screens. It looked simultaneously abandoned and perfectly preserved. Like a ghost town.

Light had seen photographs from Chernobyl in school. Everything left exactly as it was, waiting for people who would never return. Yes, that was it precisely.

He could not tell what, exactly, it was about the place that filled him with dread. There should have been nothing intimidating about a room full of computer monitors, a room he had spent every day of these last weeks working in...

Nevertheless, he didn't dare disturb the silence.

There's no sign that anything happened, and I don't remember anything happening. It's probably just late. Yes, that would explain why no-one's here.

There was still something wrong, though. He looked over his left shoulder and found...

Nothing.

That revelation should not have unbalanced him the way it did.

He ran a finger gently over the surface of his wrist, and found nothing but smooth skin, unmarked and unbound.

This is good, he told himself. I wanted to be free of L. I should be glad for the lack of his presence.

Truth be told, though, Light would have been glad for any human presence.

(There's a reason solitary confinement is used as a means of psychological torture.)

This situation makes no logical sense, Light thought. There is no reason for L to release me now.

There could only be one explanation, then. This must be a dream.

Light frowned to himself. The room certainly felt eerie, but other then that, it was a fairly uneventful dream. Quite different from the nightmares he'd experienced recently. For one thing, he was not imprisoned, nor was L preparing a novel execution method for him.

Things could certainly be much worse.

It didn't appear he was about to wake up, so he supposed he may as well engage with his dream. He had never experienced lucid dreaming before; it could prove quite interesting.

There was nothing for him to do in the room, so he cautiously pushed open the door.

Something was off about the corridor he stepped into. As soon as he realised what it was, he had to bite back bile.

A pair of bodies lay slumped against the wall, their shirts soaked through with blood. A reddish-brown smear stained the wall behind them.

Light had never considered himself squeamish, but if this were not a dream, he would most likely be vomiting. As it was, he only stepped forwards on shaky legs.

He recognised the corpses - a fact that did not surprise him at all. Matsuda's hair was stuck to the sides of his face, which was deathly grey and lacking the vigour and foolish enthusiasm so customary to it. At his side, Aizawa was as stoical in death as he'd been in life.

Light kept a safe distance, as if that would remove him from the situation. I suppose that answers the question of where the rest of the Task Force is, then, he thought numbly. At least for the most part.

Two corpses here... two corpses missing.

"Father?" Light called with a shaky voice. "...Ryuzaki?"

He continued his journey down the corridor until his foot caught on something and he was sent sprawling face-first across the floor. When he picked himself up he was able to register mild horror, but no surprise.

The sight of his father's blank eyes staring up at him in frozen terror was exactly what he had expected to find.

Light didn't get up, instead resting his head against his father's chest. It was comfortingly solid and disconcertingly still.

This is only a dream. There was no sense in getting upset about images that weren't even real. The only thing worth doing was going along with the dream to see what much-needed insight it could give him into his own subconscious.

Not that there was anything good he could possibly deduce about his subconscious from a dream like this.

Footsteps echoed across the glass floor. Light stayed curled up where he was. The new presence in the hall felt threatening, and was likely what had killed the rest of the Task Force, but Light was not afraid, at least no more than vaguely so. This was still his dream. Nothing could hurt him in his dream.

The footsteps halted and Light finally lifted his head.

The figure standing before him was clearly him, but the first thing to jump out at Light was not the similarity between them, but rather the differences.

The man who was not quite him was taller, though whether the height was real or just an illusion given by his posture, Light didn't know. Light walked with confidence and good posture, but this man did more. Ramrod straight, his chin tilted slightly upwards... everything about him radiated pride and power. He wore a formal black suit, the sleeves splattered with blood up to the elbow. His hair and eyes were not the more natural colours of copper and caramel-brown they should have been, but rather a deep, dark shade of red.

His presence was magnetic. Light could not tear his eyes away.

A small smirk graced Light's lips. "Hello, Kira," he whispered. "We meet at last."

"Indeed, Light."

As Kira walked forwards, a ray of light glinted off the blade held in his hand, giving away its presence. Light scrambled backwards instinctively.

Kira stepped over his father's body as if it weren't even there. In mere seconds, he had both Light's arms pinned firmly behind his back and the sharp edge of his knife pressed against Light's throat.

Light struggled against his grip. He was leaning in far too close, and the way he loomed over Light made Light feel claustrophobic.

This isn't accurate, Light thought. Kira kills with heart attacks, not with a dagger.

"You don't need to fear me."

This is still my dream. I am in control. If I want him to release me, he must release me.

He tried to wrench one of his arms away, but Kira's grip held fast.

"Why would I hurt you?" The question was spoken with narrowed eyes and the condescending tone of voice a teacher would use on one of their dimmer students who had just made a particularly moronic statement.

Light pressed his lips together and said nothing.

"I'm on your side. You can trust me."

Light still failed to answer. His gaze was no longer directed at Kira's face, but just over his shoulder - at the hallway that was not empty any more. Kira hadn't noticed the hunched figure watching them both yet. L must have noticed Kira, but it wasn't Kira that he pinned with his cold, accusing stare.

His eyes locked directly with Light's, wide and steady. 'Run', Light considered screaming, or, 'He'll kill us both', but no words left his lips.

'You can trust me', Kira whispered in his mind.

Light held the gaze. Both stayed still and silent, waiting for something to break their stalemate.

Suddenly, Kira released Light, who fell backwards to the floor.

L's eyes never left Light's as Kira sunk his dagger hilt-deep into L's chest. Not a single word left his lips, but they didn't have to. His eyes, deep and dark and endless, spoke them all.

Light was paralysed as L dropped to his knees. In so many dreams, their positions had been reversed. He couldn't pinpoint how he felt about this reversal. He only knew that the fathomless look in L's eyes tugged at something deep in his chest.

This is only a dream.

Even as the blood drained from L's body, that piercing clarity refused to leave his eyes.

Only a dream...

Blood across the glass floor, making it wet and slippery -

"This is only a dream," Light muttered into his pillow.

He opened his eyes slowly. Sunlight filtered in through the curtains, blinding him, and he rolled over and pressed his face into the mattress. It wasn't particularly comforting - the bland and sterile bed L had chosen for him, not the tasteful one that was his at home - but it was better than a glass floor covered in blood. Far, far better.

He dug his fingers deeper into the fabric, slowly piecing back reality as the last remnants of sleep left his mind.

"Another nightmare, Light-kun?"

The monotone voice at his side prickled Light's subconscious, needle pricks...

Knife points...

"What makes you think that?"

"Your breathing is uneven. Also, it would be highly unusual for someone in a situation such as yours not to experience nightmares."

Light responded with silence, using this time to pull himself back into reality. The room he shared with L, simple and utilitarian; a bed, a laptop, a chair, a desk. The Brothers Karamazov lay at the side of the bed, barely started. It might be a fascinating book with interesting philosophical statements... but Light did not have time for literature.

And then, there was L. Hunched over him with no regard for personal space, intruding both on his waking life and his sleeping one. L, with those eyes that looked paradoxically both dead and brimming with life. L, who could probably pull Light over in a field as soon as he tired of this game, and with his reputation he'd find a way to turn it into a legal execution.

Light could not forget who he was playing against. In truth, it was his life that was in danger, much more so than L's. He had to work towards an aim of self-preservation.

Why, then, had the nature of his dreams changed?

"Of course, I am no expert at dreams. I sleep rarely enough that when I do, it is deep and dreamless. It's something I do miss, sometimes."

Light had no trouble believing that. And he believed L would miss having dreams, as well. After all, dreams offered insight into the human mind; it must irk L to no end to miss such an opportunity.

How would it feel, for him to hold L's life in his hands, for a change?

The thought was sickening and exhilarating at the same time. L seemed so inhuman, but he would bleed the same as anybody else.

He remembered the way his gaze had been drawn to Kira, unable to tear itself away. The Kira in his dreams had not looked like a God; he had been every inch the monster and murderer the Task Force made him out to be. But at the same time, something about him felt... majestic.

Kira was a monster, but a powerful monster. And Light was sick to death of feeling powerless.

Do you even hear yourself thinking, Light Yagami? His inner voice demanded of him. If Kira were what he claimed to be - and even if you accepted his ideology, which is already problematic because you do not condone murder - that is not what he would be. Kira was intended to protect the innocent by eliminating evil from the world - not to exist as a weapon for you to defend yourself with.

I would never murder innocent people. Not even to save my own skin.

That his own father had been among those 'innocent' people that featured in his dream was something he would not even try to delve into. Light was not, and had never been, sentimental. He did not feel family attachments as strongly as the average person, but he still felt revulsion at the thought of violating those ties, and he would not - should never even dream of...

Kira has already killed law enforcement officers.

Light pulled his blanket tighter around him for warmth, but it had no effect. The cold he felt came from within him, anyway.

It's only human that someone with such a power would use it in self-defence if cornered.

But Kira claims not to be human. He is above humanity, a god of this world... a Shinigami. Surely, if that were true, he would also be above resorting to such tactics?

"It also bears mentioning that your first instinct when I asked you about having nightmares was to deflect the question. What does it say about you as a person, I wonder, that you shy away from the truth regarding even the smallest of issues...?"

Light new better than to answer that question. I was probably meant rhetorically, in any case. L was simply rambling to himself. Besides, that his deflection made him suspicious... that went without saying. After all, what did not make him suspicious these days?

Light stretched his hands above his head, then fumbled for his watch, eyes widening as he read the time. Eight am. He bolted upright.

"Ryuzaki, it's late. You shouldn't have let me sleep so long." And he shouldn't have had to rely on L to wake him. Normally his own biological clock woke him some time between six and seven. He hadn't slept in this late since he was a young child.

What's wrong with me?

"I didn't think it necessary. Light-kun has seemed tired and fatigued recently. Believe it or not, I do understand that most people require far more sleep than I do. I calculated that the benefit of having you working to your optimal potential far outweighed the disadvantage of a lost hour of work."

"Ah." Light had no suitable response. He could feel his self-created persona crumbling. It was hard to know who to project when he was no longer even sure of who he really was.

I've certainly never been lost for words before.

Though it seemed only natural that if he were to be lost for words before someone, that someone would be L.

"Well, I suppose... if that happens again, just wake me. I don't need that much sleep," Light said at last.

L nodded in agreement and Light blinked away the image of blood spilling from his chest.

(L is human, for all that he wishes to pretend otherwise. He would bleed just the same as any other human.

I suppose he and Kira are the same, in that regard. Both would like to place themselves somewhere above there rest of humanity... but that position is not justified.)

In the end, that was a depressing thought. That all humans were equally corrupt and weak, and any attempt to rise above that would only create a monster.

If I had Kira's power, I would not use it against the Task Force... even if that was the only way to save myself. It is human to wish for the power to protect ourselves, but if we all fall prey to human weaknesses, how can we ever hope to make this world any less rotten?

It's a moot point, anyway. Even if I did once hold Kira's power, I do not now. And a dream is just a dream; nothing more than a representation of my own thoughts and fears.

"Power corrupts," a wise man had once said. But power was also the only possible driving force for change, and there could be no question that change was necessary. The only solution, then was to place power in the hands of someone who refused to be corrupted.

Could he be such a person? If he had been Kira before, then he had been corrupted; deaths such as that of Naomi Misora were proof of that. Perhaps he had realised that, and that was his true motivation for forfeiting the power. But that would be illogical; after all, however corrupt the first Kira had been, he was still far less corrupt than Yotsuba.

Light played idly with the links in his chain. I don't know the answer, he admitted to himself.

I don't know. Had he ever honestly admitted to not knowing something before? Well, I suppose this case is full of firsts for me, he thought bitterly.

No more exams! Yay!

A sincere thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. Your feedback was very helpful and appreciated - all of it.

Also, I've decided to give all the chapters thus far titles, something I'd already been doing on Archive of our Own. It's not a major thing, just something I thought I'd mention.

A bit of background on Light's nightmare at the beginning of the chapter; I sort of recycled it from an original story that I never got around to writing. In that story there was supposed to be a scene in which the main character dreams about a darker version of herself killing her enemies (and some 'friends' that have betrayed her in one way or another) and then insisting to her that they deserved it. It was probably the scene that stuck with me most strongly from the story that I never wrote, so I was really happy that I was able to modify it and use it here.

Even though technically speaking nothing actually 'happened' in this chapter, it's a very significant one for Light psychologically. In fact, I might say it's possibly going to be one of the most important chapters in the story from that perspective.

Thank you for reading :).