This is one of my favorite chapters. Really, every chapter from here on out is one of my favorite chapters. I love this part of the story, and I hope you guys do too!
Thanks for all the support! You guys are awesome!
Chapter 36: The Three of Swords
The Three of Swords: signifies grief, heartbreak, and painful separation.
All the breath left Light's lungs in a horrified wail as he watched his mother's body begin to spill its blood out across the cracking stone floor. He couldn't comprehend what he was seeing, couldn't understand why this was happening, couldn't accept—
The doors burst open. Watari was standing in the doorway, was crying out in alarm as he saw the tears streaming from Light's eyes, but the teen couldn't hear him. The computer toppled from the bed and struck the ground harshly. Light didn't know or care if it had broken. All he knew was that the screen had faded to black, and he could no longer see the face of his lover, could no longer see the corpse of his mother. He could no longer see the horrific crime that had been committed right in front of him.
And those words—
"I'm doing this for Light. This is for Light. All for him…"
"You did this for me?" Light screeched, shooting out of bed and falling to the ground, scraping his knees as they landed harshly on the glass of the broken mirror. "You slaughtered my family for me, L? You love me so much that they needed to die?"
The teen's hands buried themselves in his hair and pulled, hoping to do something, anything, to ease this terrible pain. But even that momentary pain wasn't enough to distract him, and so he slammed his palms down into the broken glass of the mirror and pushed with all his strength.
"I gave half my life to save them!" Light wailed, feeling blood running down his fingers and not caring. Who cared if he died? His family was dead because of him. "I gave my life, and you slaughtered them like animals! Was this your plan, you bastard? Was this what you wanted from the beginning?" He slammed his hands harder against the ground, barely feeling someone attempting to grab onto him and stop him. He guessed it was Watari.
"Please," Light choked, tears beginning to overwhelm him. "Please, L…why did you…?"
There was a large shard of glass on the floor right beside his right hand. His fingers curled around it, and he was tempted to bring it to his throat to end this nightmare L had forced him into. The shard cut into his fingertips, and he reveled in the thought of slicing through the flesh of his neck and letting his blood pour out over the ground, forming the same beautiful halo of scarlet that L had given to his mother. He would have done it, too, and was preparing to raise the glass to his throat, when he felt something closing around him. Arms…? What…?
He realized too late that someone was restraining him, prying the glass out of his hands. Watari again, most likely.
"No!" he screeched, writhing against the grip that held him so firmly. But he was weak from shock, weak from his collapse, weak from loss of blood, and it was too much. He couldn't struggle, he couldn't even hold himself up anymore. "No…" he rasped, the world blurring around him. "L, why…?"
Someone was shouting. Someone was yelling for help. And a few moments later, that help arrived. Light couldn't see them, couldn't see anything except the beautiful scarlet halo atop his mother's head—but he could feel them. He could feel the vibrations in the floor as they came running, could feel a new set of hands on him, holding him down. There was more yelling, more confusion. Light had fallen silent, the only sounds escaping him consisting of tiny whines and desperate whimpers as someone jostled his wounds. His tears were creating ugly tracks on his cheeks, splotching the floor beneath him, and he didn't care. He couldn't feel anything but pain, and as he struggled weakly against two sets of hands, he felt the glass grinding further into his body. It hurt.
Two more voices arrived. There was the distant sound of someone scrabbling around in the medical equipment, then the sound of someone crying out in confusion and panic. A moment after that, Light felt someone grabbing his arm and pulling it out to his side. There were hands, one at his wrist and one at his elbow, holding him still. He vaguely understood, vaguely knew what was happening, and couldn't bring himself to struggle against it. It would be a merciful escape, to rest for as long as the drug would let him.
Something pricked at his arm, and there was a rush of fluid seeping into his bloodstream. After that, it didn't take long. The teen let out a tiny, broken wail as his world began to fade around him.
In a matter of minutes, he was out.
†††
The deed was done. Light's family was dead.
L turned away from Sayu's cooling body and began to walk back towards the tunnel that led to the hallway where the task force was waiting. He'd painted the room red. A splash of the stuff had even gotten onto his shoes. Luckily, the dark material hid the scarlet quite well.
The detective pushed his way up through the hatch and back into the apartment room from which he'd descended. He took a moment to make sure there were no enemies in the room. Then he hauled himself up and closed the hatch behind him, slinking his way up to the hallway. He glanced out, and—
Oh, what a shame…
L sighed sadly as he laid eyes upon the body of Mogi. The man was lying on his stomach in the middle of the hallway, blood pooling from bullet holes in his chest. A single look was all it took to tell that he was dead. There was far too much blood on the floor around him to leave even a small chance of survival.
The detective left him there. There wasn't much he could do about it now. Feeling but a twinge of sadness, he moved on. He hadn't made it more than five feet in the right direction before coming across another body. This one was torn and mutilated beyond recognition, bullet holes riddling his flesh in ridiculous quantities. Even though his face was covered and red and nearly beyond recognition, L knew that it was Aizawa. Once again, there was no need to check for signs of survival. It was obvious that he was dead. And so yet another of the task force had fallen. If Matsuda was dead, then no one would be left alive except for L himself.
L moved back to the room right outside the hallway. He couldn't see any remaining enemies. He took that to mean that they'd retreated before they were all gunned down. Turning his head to peer around the room, L swiftly found what he was looking for. Matsuda was right where he'd been left, lying on his stomach with makeshift bandages stretched around his torso. L approached the downed man slowly and gazed down at him. It took a moment, but the detective managed to detect slight movement in Matsuda's chest. He was still breathing.
"Well, that's unfortunate," L sighed. He pointed his gun at the sole surviving member of the task force, a deep frown on his face. "You're the only person left who's seen my face, the only person left who knows my connection to Light. Once you're gone, there will be no one left outside of Wammy's House that knows anything about me." He released the safety. "It's nothing personal," he assured him. "And for what's it's worth…" His finger pressed on the trigger. A gunshot echoed.
"…I'm sorry."
He wasn't.
†††
Less than twenty-four hours later, L was done in Japan. He sent a brief message to the NPA explaining what had happened. Or at least, explaining his version of what had happened.
According to him, it all began when he'd charged into the building with the task force and his personal team of officers. He'd fought valiantly, battling alongside the other officers to save the Yagami family as well as Takada. Unfortunately, as they'd traversed the halls and rooms of the abandoned apartment complex, more and more of their men had fallen. Eventually, L was the only one left. He alone had managed to fend off the remaining few enemies and find the hostages. But by the time he'd found them, the gang members had already killed them. Light's family and Takada were already dead. After that, he'd fled the building and declared the mission a failure.
Thanks to L's reputation and stellar lying, the NPA bought his story hook, line, and sinker. No one doubted him for a second. And now that it was all over, it was time to go back to Japan. Unfortunately, the hardest part was yet to come. He had to tell Light what had happened to his family, and he had to make the lie believable. The teen could never know that he was the one that had killed them. It wouldn't be easy. He'd have to be there for Light every step of the way for as long as he mourned, making sure that he never slipped into darkness.
Don't worry, L thought, an image of Light drifting through his mind. No one will ever hurt you again.
†††
"This is bad," Near whispered. "Beyond is not going to be pleased."
"No kidding," Mello grumbled. Beside him, Matt simply shook his head in stunned silence. His handheld gaming device was nowhere in sight.
The three successors were standing outside one of the many detainment cells contained within Wammy's House, discussing the events that had taken place a few hours previous. In other words, the event in which Light had lost his mind for seemingly no reason and nearly attempted to kill himself. There had been absolutely no warning. One minute everything was fine, and the next Watari was forced to dash into the room to stop Light from slitting his throat with a shard of glass. Luckily, the successors hadn't been far away when it happened. They'd heard the commotion and came to help, assisting Watari in rendering the teen unconscious. After that, they'd been swift in treating the wounds Light had acquired from grinding his hands and knees into the glass. It had taken a good chunk of time to remove all the glass and bandage the various cuts and slices, but they'd managed it eventually. After that, they'd bound Light from head to toe and thrown him into one of the school's detention cells. That was where he was now, still completely unconscious.
Mello sighed, peering into the detention cell. Light was lying on his side against the padded ground, showing no signs of moving. "Beyond's gonna be pissed. We promised we'd keep Light safe, and look what happened to him." He pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "He had a panic attack, then nearly tried to kill himself a few days later. What the hell made him go off like that?"
Near shook his head. "I'm not sure. He seemed completely fine the last time I saw him, and now..."
Matt looked away with a guilty flinch. "I think I may have an idea."
Near and Mello glanced over with curiosity. "Speak up," Mello ordered harshly.
The teen gnawed at his bottom lip. "Near, do you remember me calling you last night? I asked you if it was okay for me to hack into the security cameras around that old apartment complex so that Light could keep an eye on the rescue attempt. You said yes, that it shouldn't cause any issues, so I did just that. From what I understand, Light was watching live footage of rescue attempt when he lost it. If you want my opinion—"
Mello caught on immediately. "You think that something happened during the rescue, and that Light saw it and completely flipped out."
Near gave a slow nod, saying, "That sounds plausible. But what could have happened? Did someone die?"
"No clue." Matt shrugged. "It's over now, and it's not like the footage was being recorded anywhere so that we could watch it. Not even I could do get it back now."
"That's unfortunate," Near murmured. "I wonder if Beyond knows anything? We could try calling him."
"I'd say that's our best bet," was Mello's response. "Do we want to call him now, or…?"
Near shook his head. "No. He should be on his way back from Japan by now. We can speak with him in person when he arrives."
"But what if this is something really serious?" Mello questioned. "What if it's something we need to deal with immediately? We might not be able to wait."
Near shook his head determinedly. "We're going to wait. It'll just take a day or two for Beyond to get back. In that time, let's keep a close eye on Light. Beyond will be mad enough already without us letting anything else happen to him."
"Yeah…" Mello glanced at Light once again. "I suppose we have no chance but to wait."
†††
Light awoke slowly, his entire body feeling as if he'd been crushed by a terrible weight. Everything, from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes, resonated with a deep, aching pain. And to make everything worse, when he attempted to move, he found that he'd been securely bound. He couldn't move an inch.
The teen forced his eyes to open a crack, wincing as bright light flooded his senses. After a few moments of adjustment, he was able to open his eyes just enough to take in his surroundings. It appeared to be a small room, completely devoid of furniture and entirely white. He was lying in the center of the room, side pressed to the ground. He almost laughed when he felt how cushy and soft the ground was beneath him, realizing immediately just where they'd locked him.
A padded cell. Like some kind of psychopath.
And then he did laugh, if only softly, his voice cracking as he attempted to use it. Because even if it had seemed ridiculous at first, he knew why they'd locked him up in this state. He'd gone insane. He'd lost his cool when he saw the horrifying events that had taken place in that abandoned apartment complex, throwing his computer off the bed, grinding his hands and knees into the shattered glass from the mirror, screaming at someone who was thousands of miles away. To an onlooker, it must have appeared that he was truly losing his mind.
Thus the padded cell, and…
The teen tugged lightly at his bonds, glancing down.
…And a straight jacket. How quaint.
They must really have been convinced that he was losing it.
Light stopped struggling. He was no fool, he knew that he wouldn't be able to escape from the cell unless someone let him out. And so he simply laid there against the padded floor of the cell, pressing his cheek into the white material and closing his eyes once again.
It was a mistake. The instant the teen closed his eyes, he was seeing the whole horrific scene over again. He saw those two criminals gun down Takada and his father, laughing mercilessly as they prepared to murder his mother and sister as well. He saw himself, shooting up to his knees and begging Ryuk to give him the shinigami eyes. He saw those two accursed names being etched into the Death Note, far too late to save Soichiro from his tragic fate. He saw the two criminals crashing to the ground, their hearts suddenly ceasing to function. He saw L approaching, saw his own shoulders slumping with relief as the detective moved to the cells that held his mother and his sister, presumably to rescue them. He saw L kicking down the doors and facing down Sachiko's unconscious form, gun raised, finger on the trigger. He saw the gun fire, tiny rivers of scarlet branching out from the bullet wound in Sachiko's head. And after that, he saw nothing, as his computer toppled from the bed and his world was suddenly bathed in darkness. He'd been knocked out. He hadn't seen what L had done next.
He hadn't seen what had happened to Sayu.
He wanted desperately to believe that his little sister, the one he cared for so dearly, was still alive. He wanted to believe that L hadn't burst into that final cell and put a bullet through his sister's head. But then again, he also didn't want to believe that L had killed his mother. But he'd seen it. He'd seen it, he'd seen it all—and it was killing him.
It has to be a mistake, he thought over and over again, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the outside world. He didn't want to see anything, feel anything, be anything. He didn't want to live in a world in which his lover held a gun on his family and didn't hesitate for a moment in using it. L didn't do this. There's no way it's true.
He shook his head back and forth desperately. He would do anything to forget. He didn't want to remember seeing L's name above his head before being pulled away from the computer and sedated. He didn't want to remember that no matter how much he wanted to deny it, he'd see it all happen right in front of him. L had killed the remaining members of his family, the ones he'd given half his life to save, for him.
This is for Light. I'm doing this for him.
How could he believe that? How could L believe that in killing his lover's family he would achieve a favorable outcome? How did L expect to explain his actions? Unless…
Was he planning to lie?
Light felt his heart nearly stop in his chest at the thought of L telling him such a terrible lie. But he wasn't able to dwell on the thought for long, for that agonizing ache had started up in his chest again, and was pulsing out to the tips of his fingers. It wasn't a physical ache, caused by something tangible. Rather, it was an ache that resonated from the heart, originating from the scarlet memory of his deceased family. He fought to keep that ache down, knowing that it would only damage him further. But he was unable to stop himself from feeling the pain that tormented him. His confusion, his pain, his conflict…it all culminated in this singular throbbing ache that seemed to have consumed his entire being.
L, he thought silently, tears beginning to drip silently from his closed eyes. Please come back for me…I need to know why you really did this. How could you kill them after I fought so hard for their lives? How could you do something so terrible? And…will you try to lie about it? I just need to know, L. I just need to know why.
And until that happened, there was nothing he could do but lie in wait, struggling against the monumental pain that never seemed to leave him in peace.
†††
"Finally," L murmured, flopping down into his seat on the private jet that would take him back to England. "It's about time I went back."
It had been two days since he'd finished up his mission in Japan, but he'd been unable to leave. He wasn't entirely sure what had held his plane up, but it had been mysteriously absent for far too long. Thankfully, it had finally arrived, and now he could be on his way back to England. Back to Light.
He couldn't wait to see the teen again. Even though only five days had passed since he'd left for Japan, it felt like forever. He hadn't called Light since that fateful conversation directly before the mission began. It wasn't that he hadn't had time—over his two days of waiting, he'd had plenty of time. It was more that he wasn't quite sure what to say to him yet. He'd freed Light by killing his family, but how would he explain what had happened? He'd already decided to lie, and he already knew his story, but…how would be break the news gently? He didn't particularly care about the teen's family, or that wretched witch Takada, but he knew that Light did. He would be distraught. It wouldn't be good for his heart. But still, it had to be done. When L arrived in Japan, he would have to tell him right away. He knew that funeral preparations would have to be made, and that he'd have to deal with all of the legal nonsense that surrounded the death of an entire family.
But that was something that he could deal with later. For now, something much more pressing was eating away at his mind.
Specifically, he was troubled by the two criminals he'd found dead in Soichiro's cell. They'd shown no signs of any external damage. L had found it rather suspicious at the time, for they looked just a little too much like a pair of Kira victims. For that reason, when the NPA had come in to clean up the mess, L had asked them to have the two bodies examined for cause of death. The results had been troubling, to say the least.
Heart attacks. Both of them.
It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? But if it wasn't, then it had either been Light or the person who had stolen his notebook. And of course, the thief wasn't the best candidate. So, then, Light was the only plausible culprit—which meant that the teen would have needed to somehow get those criminals' names. It was very unlikely that he'd managed to locate them with his computer, or through other ordinary means, seeing as L himself hadn't managed to do such a thing. And if that was true…
Had Light taken the shinigami eyes?
But no, he couldn't have! The teen had promised that he wouldn't take the eyes, no matter what happened. There was no way he'd broken his promise. And if he had…
L ground his teeth together without thinking, wincing a moment later from the dull pain that shot through his jaw. He wasn't sure what he'd do if Light had taken the eyes. To break a promise such as that was a terrible crime, the likes of which L had never committed himself. If Light had dared to break his promise, there would be hell to pay.
Just a few hours more, and he'd know exactly what had happened.
†††
L arrived in England several hours after that, taking a car all the way to his quarters without bothering to stop and tell anyone that he'd arrived. He would take care of that after he spoke with Light. Right now, the teen was his first and only priority.
The detective made his way into the house, calling out, "Light, I'm back!"
There was no response.
L felt an immediate surge of unease. A frown etched deep into his features, he picked his way through the front hall and poked his head into the kitchen, then the dining room, then the living room. Light was nowhere to be found. In fact, all the lights were off, and everything was exactly as he'd left it. That was strange…was Light not back from the infirmary yet? His collapse hadn't been so serious as to keep him there for days, had it? Had he misjudged the situation? Surely not.
When L moved upstairs, his belief that something was wrong only intensified. The bed he shared with Light hadn't been slept in. The covers were perfect, and it was obvious that the bed hadn't been used since before L's departure. In addition, all of Light's things in the bathroom hadn't been touched—and when L touched a finger lightly to the top of the counter, a very thin layer of dust clung to his finger. There was no denying it—Light wasn't here. And he hadn't been here, not for days. So, then, he had to be in the infirmary.
He'd just have to go see him there. L was swift to leave the house, making sure it was locked behind him. Then he hopped back into the car and drove himself to the infirmary. He shuddered as he walked in the front doors. He didn't have good memories of this place. This was where they'd taken A after he'd…well…
L shook his head violently, ridding it of such negative thoughts. He was almost to the main room where he'd left Light. And with a few more steps, he was peering into the room. "Light?" he called in a hesitant tone, stepping inside. But once again, he was greeted with nothing but empty white walls. The teen wasn't here either. Just what the hell happened to him? Where is he?
"L?"
A soft voice sounded behind him, bringing him out of his thoughts. The detective turned to face the voice, and was surprised to see Near standing in the doorway. "Near," he greeted in a cool tone. "I don't suppose you've seen Light around? He was here before I left, and he didn't text me to tell me that he was leaving."
Near looked incredibly uncomfortable. "I know where he is, yes."
"Oh, good." L's shoulders slumped slightly in relief. At least the teen hadn't run off. That would have been quite bad. "Will you tell me where he is?"
Another awkward glance. "L, there's something you should know. I was going to call you earlier, but I thought it would be better to tell you in person."
"What is it?" L asked impatiently. "I haven't seen Light for days, so I'd like to get to him quickly. Hurry up."
Anxiety turned to anger, though it was swiftly concealed with a mask of apathy. Near had always been good at hiding his emotions. The white-haired teen opened his mouth, and the next moment words were falling from his lips and striking the ground like lead weights.
The instant those words reached his ears, L's blood ran cold.
The white-haired teen looked away. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this."
L didn't respond. Couldn't respond. Near's words simply echoed around in his mind, leaving tiny scores wherever they touched.
While you were gone, Light had another incident. We have no idea what caused it, but he shattered a mirror, threw his computer off his hospital bed, and fell to the ground, screaming the entire time. He cut himself badly on the glass and even held a shard of it to his throat as if contemplating suicide. We had no choice but to sedate him and lock him in one of our padded cells. That's where he is now.
"What caused it?" L breathed, though Near had already told him that he didn't know the answer.
"We have no idea what caused it. Matt says that he was watching something on his computer when it happened, but because it broke when it fell off of the bed, we haven't been able to confirm what it was with certainty. We do, however, suspect that he was watching the security foota—"
L didn't let him finish. Instead, he turned and dashed from the room. He knew where the detention center was located, and he was going to waste no time in getting there. He would get to Light, he would learn what these monsters had done to make him lose his head like that. Whoever had hurt Light was going to pay with their life.
"L, wait!" Near called, rushing after him. "You need to know—"
The detective refused to listen, tearing through the halls until he reached the entrance to the area where the detention cells were held. The instant he entered the detention area, he knew immediately where Light was. Only one door was closed—and outside that door, Mello and Matt were lingering about nervously. Light had to be there.
"Get out of my way," L snarled, brushing past his two successors and punching in the code that would open the door.
"Hey, wait a second!" Mello yelped, looking surprised. "You can't just barge in there!"
Once again, L refused to listen. He shoved his way through the door and closed it behind him. Once inside, he took a moment to simply press his forehead to the door, calming his nerves. He couldn't face this conversation when he felt so rattled. Then, once he felt confident he wasn't about to lose it, he turned to face his lover.
L stopped in his tracks when he finally saw him. Light didn't appear to have heard him come in. The teen was curled into a ball on one side, knees drawn to his chest. The detective couldn't see his face, but he was confident that those amber eyes he loved so much were squeezed tightly closed. He obviously wasn't sleeping or unconscious, not if his heaving chest had anything to say about it. He was awake—but was he coherent?
"Light?" L whispered, stepping forward on light toes. "Can you hear me? I need you to tell me what happened here."
There was no response from the teen. The ragged pace of his breathing stayed consistently inconsistent, and other than that, his body was completely still.
L moved closer until he was hovering over his lover. "It's okay," he comforted the shaking teen. "I'm here. Everything is going to work out." He dropped to his knees behind Light, reaching out a gentle hand and placing it on the teen's side.
The only response he received was a light tremor that he felt rather than saw.
"I know you're awake," L said in a soft tone. "Come on, Light, just…talk to me. I need to know what happened."
Still, there was no response.
L sighed. It looked like this was going to be harder than he'd thought.
†††
Light was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard a commotion outside the door. He could barely bring himself to care, though, not even when he heard the door being wrenched open and then slammed shut a moment later. Someone had entered the cell, he thought, but he wasn't sure. A few people had come in and out over the few days he'd been trapped there, to feed him, to help him out of his jacket so he could stretch his muscles, to try to persuade him to speak. It never worked. Light had buried himself in the depths of his own mind, and the only person that could draw him out was hundreds of miles away in Japan. Or at least, that's what he thought.
"Light?" a soft voice whispered.
Funny…it sounded so familiar.
"Are you okay? I need you to tell me what happened here."
Light curled tighter into a ball and made sure his eyes were squeezed shut. That was the one thing he'd made sure of, no matter what was happening and who was in the room. His eyes were always closed. If he dared to open them, someone might notice the change in color that he was sure had occurred. He hadn't seen them himself, but he was sure they were hideous. They would look like Beyond's eyes, and the thought made him sick.
"It's okay," that voice was whispering. "I'm here. Everything is going to work out."
The teen shook his head slightly, and his breathing began to speed up. He was beginning to put the pieces together. The more the person spoke, the more that voice resonated within his mind, and the more he suspected he knew who it belonged to.
A soft hand pressed against his side, and Light was no longer uncertain. He knew that touch far too well.
"I know you're awake," his lover whispered above him. "Come on, Light…just talk to me. I need to know what happened."
What happened? He could have laughed. Could have, but didn't, for all emotion had drained right out of him at the first sound of L's voice. You killed my family. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, knowing that to open them would be to reveal to L that he had broken his promise. Why do I even care? he lamented. I broke his promise, he slaughtered my family. We're even. And this time he did laugh, startling himself with the sound of his own voice. The laugh held no emotion, though, sounding flat and lifeless.
"Light?" L's voice was trembling slightly.
He's worried about me. He doesn't know that I watched him kill my family. L…tell me, what happened to Sayu? To the task force? Did you kill them as well?
"Light please!" L pleaded, another hand brushing across his side to join the first. "Who did this?"
You. You did this. The teen swallowed hard, and for the first time in days, he knew that he had to respond. He had to ask all of the questions that refused to leave him alone. The ones that tormented him whenever he tried to sleep. "L," he whispered, the name both an answer and a question.
L's voice immediately spiked with relief. "Light, thank goodness. Are you okay?"
Light hummed softly, the sound neutral and undecided. He wouldn't know if he was okay until L told him what had happened.
"What happened?" L repeated, sounding a bit like a broken record. "Was it Near? Mello? Someone else?"
You. You. You. "I know," he whispered flatly.
The hands caressing his sides froze. "You know?"
"I heard," Light responded in a hushed tone, turning his head further away as he felt two cool fingers attempting to turn his face away from the ground. "I heard them talking. My family is dead."
L's hands began brushing gently across his shoulders, drifting over his back and soothing him with short, soft strokes. "I'm sorry," the detective comforted. "I came here right away to tell you in person."
Light pushed onwards, refusing to open his heart to the pain building up within him. He would finish this. He would not break. "What happened to them?" he asked, knowing that L's answer would cement his fate. "Promise you won't lie."
L seemed surprised. "I don't think you should know that yet. You're still weak, and it would be best if—"
"Please. I need to know this."
There was a heavy moment of silence. Then a soft sigh sounded right over his shoulder, and L responded, "Very well. I'll tell you everything."
Will you?
"The task force and I stormed the building with a squad of my personal officers. We subdued our enemies and managed to make our way to the lower levels, where they were keeping your family hostage. Unfortunately, by the time we arrived, we'd lost all of my men, and Matsuda had been gunned down. I separated from the rest of the group in order to search for your family and bring them home at all costs. But by the time I found them, two criminals had already slaughtered them all. I killed the criminals and went back to the task force, only to find them dead as well. I was the only one that escaped."
Light felt as if his heart had suddenly ceased to function. Sayu…his sister…she was dead as well. "Do you promise that that is the truth?" he forced himself to ask, his tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth. "Swear to me that it's the truth. And let me see your hands."
He refused to open his eyes, so he could only guess that L had obeyed. "I promise you that it is the truth."
Then we've both broken promises to each other, haven't we, L? Perhaps I'm not as evil as I thought I was. Light curled in on himself tighter. His sister was dead. One of the only people he'd ever loved had been slaughtered for him. L had done this for him. "Thank you," he choked out, though he felt as if the last scrap of hope had just been crushed beneath the boot of L's treacherous words. "For telling the truth."
L's hands became more insistent, tugging at him in an attempt to turn him onto his back. "Light, let's leave this place. We can talk more once we get back to the house. Is that okay?"
"The house…"
L sounded concerned as he replied, "Yes, our house. You…you're okay to go back, aren't you?"
Light paused. He should feel something, he realized. He should feel anger, grief, desperation, to learn that his lover was lying so blatantly to him. But instead, all he felt was a terrible pit of emptiness within him. There was nothing left. L had taken everything he had.
"Light?"
He realized that he'd been silent for far too long. "Yes," he whispered, hoping he didn't sound as emotionless as he felt. "Let's go home, L."
"Good. Then let's get going." L tugged at him again, then frowned when he didn't move. "Come on, Light."
The teen was slow to obey. He moved at an agonizingly halting pace as he peeled himself off the ground, his chest panging with sorrow as if his grief, newly discovered and throbbing within his chest, was manifesting itself into a physical affliction. He allowed L to pull him to his feet. But even then, he would not open his eyes. He would not let L see. Even if the detective had done such terrible things, even if he'd taken everything from him…he didn't want him to know that he'd broken his promise as well.
He felt L unbuckling the straight jacket, and a moment later he was free to move his hands. "There," L soothed, arms pulling Light in for a brief, comforting hug. "Let's go home."
"Yes," Light whispered. "Home." The home of my family's murderer.
L hooked his arm through his, leading him from the cell. Light's eyes remained closed as he let L guide him. No one could see.
"L?" a familiar voice questioned once they were out of the cell. "What are you—?"
"I'm taking him home," L said coldly. "Do you have a problem with that, Near?"
Near paused, and when he spoke, Light could hear the halting hesitation in his voice. "I don't know if that's such a good idea. We still don't know what the cause was, and—"
"He learned something terrible," L replied shortly. "It upset him. That's all."
"But the words he was yelling—"
"I'm taking him home," L snapped. "Leave us be, Near. That's an order."
There was another pause. Then, "Very well."
Light felt L's chest rumble with a low growl of irritation. The next moment the detective was pulling him along, then scooping him up into his arms when he figured out that Light wasn't up to moving swiftly. "Just relax," the detective urged. "We'll get you home and then you can rest."
Light nodded mindlessly. "Rest…"
L nodded. "Yes, Light. Rest."
†††
Hours later, Light awoke from a fitful sleep. After their conversation in the cell, the detective had returned him to their home and placed him on the bed, positioning his arms and legs until he was pleased with his appearance. He felt like a doll, being played with and manipulated by his master.
Is that all I am to you? Light thought numbly, not moving from his place on the bed. A toy? A plaything? Something to discard once you become bored? A lump formed in his throat as the image of his beautiful, innocent sister flashed before his closed eyes. She's dead because of you. Because of me. Because of us. Now…
He heard the sound of a door opening and closing, then a series of soft thuds as L drew close to the bed. "Light," he whispered. "You're awake?"
The teen gave a dull nod, not allowing himself to speak.
"Good." A weight settled on the bed beside him, and a hand brushed lightly across his forehead. The hair was lifted from his face. "Light…your eyes."
He tensed. "What about them?"
There was an anxious pause. "You haven't opened your eyes. Is something wrong with them?"
Light caught what no one else could have. Behind L's caring façade, there was the light undertone of suspicion. The detective already suspected what had happened. He shouldn't have been surprised, he knew. L was a genius, it was only natural that he would figure these things out swiftly. "They hurt," was the feeble excuse. Then he squeezed his eyes shut until they did hurt.
"You should let me see them," L whispered down at him, voice growing increasingly tense. "Maybe I can help you take care of them."
But if I open my eyes…
"Light." Lips pressed to his cheek lovingly, and Light nearly lost it. How could someone who had just slaughtered everyone he cared about be so caring? What was the truth? "Please show me."
The teen shook his head, and two hands cupped the sides of his face and kept him from turning away. "L, please," he whimpered. "They hurt. Just let me rest." They did hurt, but not for the reasons L thought they did.
The hands cupping his face became firmer, more insistent. "I need to see. I need to know that you didn't—"
"—Break my promise?" Light finished in a hushed tone. "You think I took the eyes, right? Is that it?"
L's fingertips let up on the pressure just slightly. "You didn't?"
For just a moment, Light found himself unable to speak. Then, "Did you break your promise?"
L's fingers removed themselves from his face. "No. So you didn't take the eyes?"
He bit back a bitter laugh. "Tell me the truth."
"What?" He sounded puzzled. "I am telling the truth, Light."
"Except you're not." There was no anger in his tone, only bitter sadness.
"What are you talking about?"
"You wanted to know if I took the eyes?" Light asked, avoiding the question.
"Well of course I—"
"Well, why don't you look for yourself?"
L paused. "What…?"
"Look into my eyes, L. What do you see?"
Again, there was a pause. Then Light felt the weight on the bed shift, and he knew that L was crawling towards him. There was a light rustling noise, then he felt L straddling him. Two more soft thumps let him know that he was being caged in by L's arms on either side of his head. A shadow across his closed eyes told him that L was leaning over him.
"Ready?" Light teased quietly, a tiny spark of humor finding its way into his voice. "I'm going to open my eyes."
L remained silent.
"No response? Well, then…I suppose it's up to me."
Light relaxed the muscles in his face. It felt good, he realized, to let the worry lines decrease in intensity and to allow his expression to lessen in severity. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have an expression of neutrality, without stress and worry afflicting his features. But that wasn't what he was supposed to be doing. He was supposed to be telling L the truth. And so slowly, with all the hesitation in the world…
Light opened his eyes.
He saw L for the first time in days. The detective was hovering over him, a nervous expression on his face as he stared down. And Light, directly beneath him, had the privilege of watching that expression twist into one of horror and disbelief.
"Light…" L choked, though he didn't draw back.
He could only guess what L was seeing. Two reddish orange eyes staring up at him from the face of his lover. It had to be unnerving, to say the least. He could have laughed. "What is it, L?" he responded softly. "See something you like?"
L's hand reached up, slowly, as if in a dream, and tilted the teen's face to one side. Fierce black eyes stared into his, and Light felt as if he was being mercilessly scrutinized. "Light," the detective breathed again. "You didn't…"
"It was the only way," Light whispered back. He blinked slowly, scarlet orbs momentarily shielded from view, only to reappear again a moment later. "It was the only way to save my family."
"But they were dead when I got there," L insisted. "This…this could never have worked. Why did you do it?"
Light smiled emotionlessly. "You should have listened to Near when he tried to tell you what I was watching when I had my fit."
A flicker of horror pierced L's dark eyes.
"You see…I was worried about you." Light moved on his own for the first time in days, reaching up and cupping L's cheek with one hand. "I wanted to make sure you didn't die, and that my family would be safe. I had Matt get me into the security feed in the old apartment complex. I wanted to watch the rescue mission."
L's skin was three shades paler than usual. "Light…what did you see?" Then he said it again, desperately. "What did you see?"
His smile grew, stretching across his face even as tears began to burn his eyes. "I saw the mission, L. I saw everything. There were two men, and…and they killed Takada and my mother. I had to do something. I had to save my family." He let his hand fall away from L's face, moving to his own eyes and touching gently around one of them as if to check that they were still there. "I took the eyes and killed the criminals. I saved my sister and my mother. And yet…"
L's eyes grew wide with realization.
"And yet they were still killed in the end."
The detective jerked back as if he'd been burned. "Light, I—"
"Do you want to know who I saw kill them?" Light asked, his tone lifeless and detached as he slowly sat up. "I don't know if I would have recognized him without the eyes. But I did have the eyes, and so I saw his name floating above his head. Who was it again?" His numbness was fading. It was fading, and in its place was a smoldering ember that was only gaining strength with every passing moment. "Oh, that's right, L! It was you."
There was a long pause, in which L's expression remained one of piercing shock. But then that shock faded, and the detective's features twisted angrily. "You took the eyes to save your family, even after you promised you wouldn't?" he hissed, springing from the bed and looming over his lover. "You broke your promise, Light, and you didn't accomplish anything by it! I warned you, but you didn't listen!"
"What?" Light gasped, disbelief breaking through his lifeless shell. Anger followed moments after. "You're mad at me for breaking my promise after you slaughtered my mother and sister? Are you insane?"
L bared his teeth in a vicious snarl. "You're the insane one if you think what you did was okay! You made me a promise, Light, and you broke it without a second thought to save your family!"
"They're my family!" Light snarled furiously. "Of course I gave half my life to save them! I loved them, L, and you slaughtered them like animals! You're the one that should be bowing before me, begging for forgiveness! How dare you pretend to be upset about my promise when you've broken yours as well? What was it you said to me? That you would do anything you could to save my family? Well, look how that turned out!" The anger was growing. It was swelling within him, and the only place left to go was out. All of his days spent staring into darkness with a numb heart had come to an end, and now he was feeling a violent surge of emotion to make up for all that he had lost.
"You should never have taken the eyes!" L spat. "You—"
"I gave everything to you!" Light cried, silencing his lover. "L, you had my heart, my life, my soul! And when my family disappeared, I thought that you would be able to save them! But now…what have you done?"
"I liberated you," L growled, his tone dipping dangerously. "If I'd rescued them, then you would only have worried about them for the rest of your life, until the stress forced you to collapse again! There would always have been people trying to get at them because of your connection to me, and you would never have been able to rest easy knowing that they were in danger!"
"That's what family is," Light insisted, distraught. "We worry over each other, stress over each other without fail! And when the time comes, we're there for each other until the end! I would gladly have worried for my family if it meant they were kept alive! They were innocent!"
"They were hurting you!"
"No! They were helping me! There have been so many times, L, so many times that I thought I would go insane during this damn case! And whenever I thought I was about to lose it, who do you think helped get me back on my feet? My sister! My mother! My family! And you've taken all of that from me! Just who the hell did you think you were helping other than yourself?"
"This was for you! I was helping you!"
"No you weren't!" Light roared, shooting out of bed and clenching his fists firmly at his sides. Blood dripped from his palms as nails cut into flesh, and he didn't care one bit. "You did this because you couldn't stand the thought of me having connections in Japan! You did this because you wanted me alone, isolated, with no one to turn to but you!" He shook his head violently. "You're such an idiot. How could you do this to me and then lie about it? How could you do this at all?"
L's eyes were hard with anger. "You're no better! You broke your promise as well, don't forget! Don't you dare try to act like I'm the only one at fault here!"
Light stared in disbelief. "I halved my lifespan. You slaughtered my entire family. Doesn't one of those seem a bit more severe than the other?"
"Not to me it doesn't!" L took a bold step forward, and Light moved backwards instinctively in response. "You shortened your lifespan after promising me you wouldn't! That makes you just as guilty as me!"
"You're insane," Light realized, fury bubbling in his throat and churning in the pit of his stomach. His hands clenched impossibly tighter at his sides. "Why the hell couldn't I see it earlier? Beyond was right, you're nothing more than a murderer posing as a hero!"
"Beyond?" L echoed furiously. "When the hell did you speak to that bastard? Did you go to him behind my back?"
"He warned me about you," Light snarled. "He told me to run, but I didn't believe him." He looked away, gaze bitter. "I see now that I should have listened to him. If I'd gotten out while I could, my family would be alive and I wouldn't have given half my life for a pair of useless eyes!"
L leaned over him menacingly. "That's your fault! You're the one that broke your promise!"
"You killed my family!"
"You halved your lifespan!"
"You…" Light trailed off, angry tears burning away at the backs of his eyes. "You took everything from me! This is all your fault! I wish I'd listened to Beyond when I had the chance and left you behind! I hate you, you monster!"
L's eyes dilated, and his hands shot up at record speed.
The next few moments were a blur.
Before Light knew what was happening, his back was being slammed forcefully into a wall, and there was a constricting hand at his throat. Another was fisting in his hair, yanking his head back against the wall when he attempted to lean forwards and escape.
"L!" Light choked, breath stalling in his lungs. "L, I can't—!"
The hand tightened, and Light could do nothing but choke helplessly on air that refused to fill his lungs. L leaned in close, eyes flashing dangerously. "Monster?" he echoed, ignoring the teen's frantic scrabbling at the hand at his throat. "You think I'm a monster for setting you free?" He laughed, and all traces of the L that Light knew were gone. In his place was a true monster.
Light grasped weakly at the hand holding him aloft, clawing at it and attempting to free himself. But L was too strong. He'd always been stronger than him—and now it could be about to cost him his life.
The detective laughed again, grip tightening. Light's head was starting to feel fuzzy. "If you love your family so much more than me, then why don't you join them?" he spat. "I'm sure they'd love to hear from you again, traitor!"
This was bad. He couldn't breathe, and his body was beginning to shut down. He couldn't even call for help, couldn't beg the real L to return and let him go. Beyond's warnings echoed in his mind.
That temper of L's is going to get you killed someday.
Was it true? Was this it for him? It certainly felt final. His vision was fading. His hearing was beginning to fail. His senses were going haywire.
"I'm sorry it had to end this way," L growled, bringing his face close to Light's ear. "If only you'd listened to me. If only you hadn't broken your promise. We could have been together forever."
No…it couldn't end like this! With whatever he had left…with whatever air was left in his lungs…he had to fight! The teen gathered the last of his strength, which was swiftly fading away. He didn't have much, but it would have to be enough. He had to break free now.
"Goodbye, Light," L whispered.
And at that moment, Light did the only thing he could. He drew his leg back with all the strength he had, and kicked L solidly in the one place he knew it would hurt the most.
The reaction was immediate. The hand around his throat slid away, the fingers curled in his hair untangled, and L fell to the ground wailing in pain. Light wasn't far behind. The teen collapsed into a fit of choking coughs, breath struggling to flood into his damaged windpipe. He scrabbled desperately for purchase on the carpet, knowing that he didn't have much time. He had to run if he valued his life. L had lost all control, and his anger had swallowed him whole. He wasn't himself.
Or maybe he was, and this was the person he'd been all along.
Light heard L struggling to his feet, and he knew that his time had run out. The teen fought against the violent coughs wracking his body, clawing his way to his knees and grabbing the closest thing as a weapon—the desk lamp on the nightstand. He struggled to pull off the lampshade, then drug his weakened body back over to L. He didn't know if he had the strength, but he had to try. He had to escape if he wanted to live. And so with everything he had, just as L was raising his head, he drew back the wooden stand of the lamp and drove it down on the back of L's head.
"L-Light!" L choked out, but it was too late. His eyes rolled back in his head and his body collapsed limply to the ground. He was unconscious.
Light slumped to the ground in relief. Thank god…I thought he was going to kill me! And deep down, he knew that L really would have killed him if it weren't for his quick thinking. The man had been so consumed by anger that he hadn't been thinking clearly. Is this what happened to A? he wondered, feeling sick to his stomach at the thought. Or maybe he was feeling sick to his stomach because of the lack of oxygen. He was still coughing, his body struggling to repair the damage to his throat.
I need to run, Light remembered, fighting his way to his feet and nearly falling down again. I need to get out of here before he wakes up. I don't care where, so long as I get as far away as possible. Unfortunately, as he wobbled for the stairs, he didn't think that as far as he could would be very far. He was too weak, and he could feel darkness pressing in on the edges of his vision. He didn't have long before he blacked out.
The teen half fell down the stairs and burst from the house, almost taking another nasty tumble down the stairs leading to the pathway to the regular dorms. He forced his sluggish limbs to take himself down that path, nearly collapsing several times along the way. He fought his way through the courtyard, moving as swiftly as he could without passing out. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to get enough oxygen to his lungs. L had done more damage than he'd thought.
I need help. I need to get to the infirmary. The teen angled his failing body in the general direction of the infirmary and forced himself to move faster. But the more he traveled, the more he realized that he wouldn't make it there in time. He was so weak, and the infirmary was so far…and to make matters worse, it was the dead of night. There was no one around, no one for him to call for help. That is, if he could even call for help. His throat was so damaged that he doubted he could use his voice if he tried. But still, he forced himself to move forward. He had to make it as far as he could before…before…
It didn't take long before he could go no further. He didn't know where he was. His vision was fading, and as his breathing became more and more labored, all he could tell was that he was in between two buildings in front of some kind of alleyway. This is it, he realized. I can't move any further. My lungs…my heart… The teen stumbled one step further before collapsing onto his stomach. Groaning, he barely managed to push himself onto his back, eyes staring up blankly at the sky. No…it can't end like this! I need to do something, anything, to increase my chances of survival! What can I do? What can I do?
Light coughed weakly. His body was going numb, limbs and organs shutting down one by one. He flailed desperately against the cold ground, fingers snagging on something as they swept past his right thigh. In his haze, he had to struggle to get his fingers to wrap around the object he'd brushed against. He clumsily brought the thing up in front of his face, hoping that whatever it was could save him.
He frowned as he managed to make out the gleaming shape against the dim moonlight. A cross. A silver cross with a red gem in the center, held up by a gleaming chain. Light almost laughed when he realized what it was. It was the necklace that Beyond had given him so long ago. A's necklace, the one that would let Beyond know that he was in trouble. If Beyond saw him wearing it, he was supposed to take him away and save him.
Wishful thinking, Light mourned. But the longer he looked at it, the more inclined he was to use it for what it was meant for. What the hell? There's nothing stopping me now. I'll die here if someone doesn't find me.
He brought the thing up and slid it over his head, muscles fighting him every step of the way. It was useless, he knew. The necklace wasn't magical. It wouldn't summon Beyond to him like a beacon. It was just a sign, simple and physical, that Light needed help. And if he'd ever needed help, now was the time.
Light watched through half-lidded eyes as the cross fell onto his chest and sat there uselessly. The red gemstone glittered in the moonlight teasingly. He would have taken time to appreciate it if he wasn't dying. But now it was far too late for that. He'd made his choice, and now…
His lips parted slightly as he attempted a weak laugh, but nothing came out. But his mouth remained open, part of a final attempt to draw enough air to keep himself alive. He knew it wouldn't be enough. And sure enough, no matter how hard he tried to keep his world in focus, it was all beginning to blur. He stared up determinedly at the stars above him, obstructed slightly by the buildings he was lying between. Just stay awake, he urged himself, fighting exhaustion. If you fall asleep, it's all over. Just focus on those stars. Keep them in your sights. Don't let yourself fall asleep. Don't let yourself fall asleep. Don't…let yourself…fall…
The teen's eyes were closing of their own accord. When he tried to move his hands to his face to forcefully keep them open, he found that he couldn't move. His chest was heaving, but no air was reaching his lungs.
Close by, he thought he heard footsteps.
Help me, he thought weakly. Save me!
The footsteps were drawing nearer.
Please…
The footsteps were incredibly close. And then they paused, and Light could only hope that someone had seen him, and was coming to help.
A light gasp met his ears, and those footsteps were moving towards him at a swift pace. Not a moment too soon, Light thought, relief flooding his veins. His eyes began to close, and this time he didn't fight it.
"Light!" a voice whispered, and a shadow was standing over him. A shadow with bright red eyes and dark hair. Someone was dropping to their knees beside him. "Oh god, Light…hang on!"
The teen couldn't hear anymore. He couldn't see. His eyes were closed, and he felt the last of his senses failing. The last coherent thought to cross his mind was of the shadow, the one standing over him, the one cradling him to his chest and rising, the one tearing across campus towards the infirmary.
Beyond…
Oh man, this was too much fun to write. I had all of the fun. All of it.
Now, on a side note, I'm pleased to report that I am finally happy with the ending to this story (which is now six chapters away). I've been really struggling with it the past two months, reworking it from the original and then reworking it again, and again, trying to find something that would satisfy both me and you guys. Everything I tried just felt wrong, and I swear I've been spending hours just staring at the word document for this story in a state of perpetual frustration. But then, in the middle of a lecture at school, everything just sort of clicked—and I've spent the past few days scribbling out an ending that finally, finally brings everything together in a way I think everyone will enjoy. I can't describe how excited I am to reach that ending.
Don't hesitate to leave a review if you enjoyed! I'm curious, what do you guys think is going to happen? How do you think this story will end? I'm eager to hear your predictions!