Chapter 13

My back hurt. Really, really hurt. And worse than that it was a familiar pain, which was quickly dragging back bad memories I'd been avoiding for the past month that I didn't have the mental strength to fight off at the moment. I needed a distraction.

"Catearro-sama?"

What in the world?

I opened my eyes and squinted in the harsh glare of fluorescent hospital lights, hissing through my teeth. What was I doing here?

"Catearro-sama, are you okay?"

There was that voice again. Why were they calling me sama?

Long blonde hair moved into view, blocking out the bright lighting and letting my eyes adjust. Brown eyes, pink lips, eyelashes so long it seemed they might fall off, and tiny skulls adorning the hair ties. Who the heck was this?

"Catearro-sama? Can you hear me? Hellooo." She waved her hand in front of my nose, as though that would bring me back to responsiveness when the feeling of her bottle-blonde locks trailing along my throat hadn't. "Hello? Are you there?"

"Yes," I croaked, and immediately regretted it. The word scratched up my throat like a razor. I coughed. Blood pooled in my mouth.

"Oh! I'll get you some water! You sound horrible." The girl hurried to the bedside table in my periphery. Her bright red hat sat on the white surface, the single piece of inanimate colour in the otherwise bland room that's walls and ceiling and floor had soaked up so much pain and sickness over the years there was no hint of joy. Lying in this bed, it felt as though all the strength was being sapped from my bones, sucked into the crisp sheets and disinfected linoleum to be transported somewhere else – the waiting room, perhaps – for use in keeping the charade of a building of healing.

If only, I thought. Then I wouldn't be stuck in this accursed bed with a knife stabbing into my back.

"Here you go!" A plastic cup of water was held over my chest. For a moment I wondered if she expected me to absorb the liquid through some sort of non-contact osmosis.

After a second of awkward silence, she noticed her mistake. With an unembarrassed smile, she pressed a button on the side of the bed. The top half of the mattress rose, pushing me with it, until I was sitting upright.

She grinned and held the water to my lips.

I tried to ignore the way my pain had just increased a thousand-fold.

"Who are you?" I asked once the cup was emptied. She replaced the cup on the table and sat by my hip, hands clasped in front of her chest, a small blush rising on her cheeks.

"I'm Misa Misa," she said. "You saved me yesterday."

"Yesterday . . . it's Friday already?" That meant Miss Hisashi would be doing the gallery by herself. Not a good impression to make on Principal Kurosaki. Maybe he'd be impressed by my selfless actions and give me the job anyway. Doubtful, but what was hope for?

Misa nodded. "It's after four. Light-san said he'd be here soon if you weren't released and the doctors say that you have to stay here for a few more days at least. So I'm here to keep you company!" Whoa. Her voice was even more girlish than Mikoto's, and that was saying something.

"More water, please."

She obliged, eagerly helping me drink. I tried to take her enthusiasm in stride. In my opinion I managed well enough, considering she was a complete stranger and the first person I'd ever put myself in harm's way to save, other than Quinn, of course. Not something I was familiar with. This had to be rectified.

"So, what do you do?" I asked, leaning back on the pillows. Her smile grew even brighter than Sayu's did when she watched Hideki Ryuga on television.

"I'm a model! Did you see the recent issue of Eighteen?"

"That's the quarterly modelling magazine isn't it?"

"Uh huh."

"I think I did." Something like it had been lying around Sayu's room for the past few weeks. "You were in it?"

"I had a two-page picture and now I've been signed on to work full time for the magazine."

"You must be popular, then."

"One of the nurses asked me for my signature."

"Good job."

"Thanks!" She leaned forwards, grasping my hands in hers, reminding me of the large gash in my right forearm when it decided it didn't enjoy being jerked so. "I wanted to say thank you for saving me. No one's ever saved me before and you were so heroic!"

I chuckled weakly, gently trying to wriggle out of her grip. It was proving difficult. "Well, I couldn't let him hurt you."

Misa's eyes grew even wider if possible. She gave a quiet sort of hiccup, turned away, and fiercely rubbed at her eyes. Sighing inwardly, I tentatively rubbed her back, scowling when a fingernail got caught in the lace of her corset. That's when I finally took stock of what she was wearing.

Black corset, thickly-soled platform boots with buckles to the knees and a layered lace skirt that poofed around her, creating a black cloud of fluffy fabric. Silver crosses hung from her neck, her leather wristband and dangled from every free hole in her belt.

As I was adjusting to this sudden influx of goth, Misa started to mumble.

"Pardon?"

Sniffing, turned back around, pressing fingers in her eye sockets. Disturbed by the sight of her grinding her eyeballs with her knuckles, I grabbed her hands and flattened them on my lap. Her gaze was drawn to the sight, seemingly entrance by the way her fingers easily intertwined with mine, my short, uncoloured nails so different to her dark purple manicure.

"Are you okay?" I asked when I was certain she wouldn't burst into tears. With a deep breath, she nodded.

"Sorry." She hiccupped again. "No one has ever defended me before."

Taken aback, I searched the far reaches of my mind to find something to say. All that came to mind was, "Then I'll defend you." What on earth prompted that?

With shining eyes, Misa gave a small, brilliant smile, and drew her hands away. "You don't have to worry about the hospital bill. I've talked to my agent about paying it."

"You don't have to –"

"–I have to thank you somehow!"

"Well . . . thank you, then."

"You're welcome."

There was a knock at the door. Light's could be seen through the inset muntin glass. Misa went to open it and I stretched, rolling my shoulders and hiding a grimace. It wouldn't do to let Light see me in pain, but man, did it hurt.

"How are you feeling?" Light asked without preamble, taking Misa's place and grasping my hands. He was still in school uniform, but without his usual bag filled with school books and maybe the Death Note. I should ask whether he set up the burning desk draw at home, because that was not part of the agreement of him staying with Quinn and I.

"Like I've been slashed with a knife," I replied. "How was school?"

"Nakamura, Fuyura, Tanji and Itoh were asking about you. They wanted to know what prompted you to leap in front of a man with a knife." He stared at me pointedly.

"Fuyura and Tanji . . . oh, Nozomi and Mikoto."

"Yes."

"What did you talk about last night with them? They've been worrying about you for months now."

"Nothing of consequence. Now stop changing the subject."

I half-smiled. "But that's what I'm good at."

"Minerva."

"Where're Quinn and Sayu?"

"Getting food from the cafeteria." One of his eyebrows were twitching. Just at that moment Misa decided to interrupt and I felt a rush of gladness for the girl.

She said, "Do you want me to bring you home when you've been released, Catearro-sama?" Her nervous glances between Light and I made me smile more widely.

"That would be great, thanks. And it's just Minerva."

"Should I see when you can go home?"

"If you would."

She smiled back, nodded to Light, and left the room. The door closed. Light and I were alone.

Damn.

He set his gaze on me, and for a moment I thought I'd get off the hook, as his eyes softened and his hold on my hands became gentler.

Then he grabbed my chin and said roughly, "What the hell were those scars from?"

I cringed, trying to pull myself away to no avail. "Would you believe me if I said it was an accident?" I ventured.

"An accident will happen now if you lie to me."

Okay. Touchy much. Was it romantic or creepy for him to be so worked up over this? By the way his eyes were blazing with anger right now, it was leaning towards the more 'unhealthily possessive.'

"I'll tell you if you let go of me, sit on that chair, and let me breathe for a moment." He didn't budge. "Otherwise all you're getting is me screaming for a nurse." It appeared as though he might snap from annoyance, but he did as I asked, moving off the bed and releasing his hold on my hands. I rolled my wrists and twisted my fingers together. I ached for a sketchbook.

"What happened?" asked Light. Taking a breath, I stared down at my hands, refusing to meet his gaze. To look in his eyes would be to lose any command over my memories I had left. Last night had proved that him just being there could reduce me to self-pitying weeping.

Swallowing around a dry throat, I said, "I will tell you what I can. All I ask is that you don't expect me to answer all your questions. I can't." He nodded, though the irritation was obvious behind his eyes.

Deep breaths. In and out. It doesn't matter that not even Quinn knows the full story. Imagine you're talking to Granny Hiro at her grave. Even though you've only been there once.

The internal pep talk wasn't helping at all, so I stopped, squared my shoulders, and said, "Quinn and I knew BB before Canada."

"I already figured that out," Light said absently. A glare made him shut up.

"This is my story. Let me tell it and you can comment after." He nodded and I continued. "I can't tell you where the place was, or what it was other than an orphanage. Quinn and I arrived in 1995, April tenth. Quinn was four, I was nine. We were . . . taken there by a man who had seen us at our previous orphanage. There'd been a . . . problem, and we were forced to move. At the new orphanage we met BB."

"And L," Light put in. I glanced at him sharply. He was frowning, staring not at me, but through me.

I went on as though he hadn't interrupted. "We lived there for six years. Learning, trying not to be seen. Neither of us wanted to leave – after the previous orphanage, this was like a dream. No overbearing nurses or kids terrified of us. It was the safest we'd ever felt. Then, of course, everything went wrong.

"It was a Saturday. Saturday the fourteenth in July. I was fifteen. No one told me Beyond's age, but I guess he must have been around twenty-two. Same age as L." Light's fingers clenched. He said nothing. Sighing, I said, "You've already guessed L was there, so I might as well tell you the whole thing. BB was obsessed with L. He became my friend only because L talked to me. Hah. As if L actually cared about me. I was just a toy." Lights fingers curled over the covers, finding my knee and staying there; a wordless support that I sorely needed because the word 'toy' had made my pulse jolt.

"Anyway," I went on, swallowing again. "On that Saturday he asked to talk to me. Turns out he didn't really want to talk." A sob choked me, and I curled inwards, scrabbling for Light's hand and holding on as tightly as I could. "He heated the knife on a bunsen burner." My voice was shaking. "I tried to escape a few times. He almost gouged my left eye out with his fingers."

"Where was this?" Light asked sharply, both his hands entangled with mine. "Where was L?"

That made me laugh. A weak chuckle that sounded as poisonous as it felt. "We were in BB's bedroom. L didn't stay in the orphanage dormitories so he wouldn't have heard. No one would have. Orphanage policy to soundproof rooms to ensure peace of mind."

There was a moment of silence as the influx of information sunk in, both for me and for Light. Then he asked the question I'd rather hoped to avoid.

"Did he rape you?" he asked, voice void of all emotion. I wondered if there was a way to ask that question and have it not hurt. Would those words screamed in rage sound better? Or perhaps said gently, with Granny Hiro's arms around my shoulders? It didn't matter, truthfully. Not matter what form, it was still painful.

"No."

"No?"

I sighed, hunching over further. "I was scared," I whispered. "There's a lot you can do with a knife when you're scared."

Silence filled the stale, whitewashed hospital room. A heavy silence that weighed the senses, pushed down on shoulders and demanded to not be ignored. It muffled the world outside, quietened our breaths. Soon all I could hear was the throbbing of my heartbeat in my ears. Light's hands remained my anchor as I struggled with oncoming panic and old shame. This recent rollercoaster of emotions was getting tiresome.

Finally, it was Light that spoke, softly, slowly. "What happened in the end?"

Breathe. In and out. The hardest part is over. "He ended up running. BB was a coward in truth. He could give pain, but he hated it himself. Quinn found me collapsed in the bedroom." And I still couldn't forgive myself for not having the strength to make back to my room to get patched up before he came. Q was not even nine. Much too young to see so much blood and not come out unscathed.

"Two days later we ran for it. BB had disappeared and somehow we managed to smuggle ourselves to Canada on a cargo ship. From there we hitchhiked across the country until stopping in Thunder Bay. I don't know if we would have been able to go much further if Granny Hiro hadn't been there."

"You travelled illegally when your wounds had not healed?" Light asked incredulously.

"Hey, leave the 'illegally' out of this. You're a hypocrite if you're complaining about that," I shot back.

"Didn't you even consider the possibility of an infection?"

"What would've you had me do? Stay in that house where I'd been attacked, where Quinn was bullied every day, where I was constantly being watched? It was better than the orphanage, yes, but only because I wasn't strapped to a bed half the time." I cut Light off before he could speak. "Don't ask. If things keep going the way they are, you'll find out soon enough." I glanced up and smiled wanly. "Didn't I tell this is what madness looks like?"

"You aren't mad."

"Yes, I am. It's only a matter of time until you see it."

"What can I do?"

I looked at him sharply. He was leaning forwards, jaw set, and for all intents and purposes, completely earnest. I immediately questioned it.

"Why do you care?"

He frowned, sitting up. "Why wouldn't I care? You have Quinn to look after, Sayu cares for you, and I consider you a . . . friend." He tasted the last word, and appeared to find it satisfactory, if not perfect.

"I'm not your queen anymore?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Kind of a let down to be demoted to 'friend.'"

"Do you want to be my queen?" It was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Well . . ." I looked at the ceiling, creating the façade of considering it. "I don't know how good of a queen I'll be, so friend is good for now."

"For now," he repeated.

I nodded. "For now. We'll see what happens in the future." A pleased smile lit up Light's face. "Uh, uh. Remember this is mostly because I can't have Quinn dealing with me spiralling, and there's no way I bringing Sayu or L into this. You'll have to do. So you better not disappoint me."

Light laughed. Actually laughed. "When have I ever disappointed anyone?" he asked. I took it as rhetoric and deigned not to answer.

The door slammed open at that moment and Quinn stormed in, Sayu on his heels. A flicker of frustration warped Light's face but he schooled it, turned and said, "Did you guys get the snacks?"

"Yup," said Sayu, holding up a coffee and taking a bag of chips from her school bag. "We talked to the nurses at the station and they said this should be fine for you to have. I think Amane-san talked to them."

I sat up a little straighter. "You met Misa?"

"Yeah. She was torn up over what you did." Sayu sat on the end of the bed, passed me the coffee, and opened the chip packet. Ever since her parents' death she been more subdued, having grown up in much too short a time. Now she reminded me more of Quinn – contemplative, prone to staring into the middle distance, less excitable. Rarely did she show the Sayu she used to be. It was one of the more painful aftereffects of Soichiro and Sachiko's passing.

Quinn stayed standing, his and Light's bags at his feet. His arms were folded and there was a glare marring his normally placid face. It was disturbing.

"Q? What's wrong?"

His scowl deepened.

"I hate being your brother sometimes."

It was like a physical blow across my chest. I shrunk back as a wave of guilt, of pain, of shame, washed over me. I knew exactly why he was saying this. A talk we'd had when I had returned from the hospital after the biker gang incident surfaced in my mind. He'd made me promise to avoid potentially lethal situations. If I died, he would have no one.

"Quinn!" Sayu exclaimed, showing the first sign of emotion greater than one level above apathy for the first time in weeks. "Why would you say that?" Light said nothing. He gazed at Quinn shrewdly, seeing something that I couldn't.

"I'm sorry." I pulled free of Light and held my hands out to him. He came around to the other side of the bed and took one. His grip was a shade from painful. Now I saw the dark circles under his eyes. He must not have slept last night. For that matter, Sayu and Light had the same careworn appearance. "I don't mean for these things happen."

"Really?" he said cuttingly. "The quad bike, the bear, the bikers and now this? "

"The bear was not my fault!" I protested. "And I rolled off the quad bike before it tipped fully."

"You followed the bear."

"Because Marnie told me to."

"You should have known better."

"You would have done the same thing."

"You were sixteen. I was twelve."

"Semantics."

"V."

"Why is everyone saying my name like that lately?" I asked in exasperation, my attention falling on Sayu. She cracked a small grin.

"Because you do things like follow bears and throw yourself in front of strangers. Did you get attacked by the bear? Was this in Canada?"

"I –"

"It almost tore her in half," Quinn cut in. Sayu gasped and stared at my stomach as though expected to see blood. Rolling my eyes, I took my hand from Quinn and gingerly pulled up the hospital gown, making sure my bandaged arm didn't brush anything and my legs stayed covered underneath the sheets. Across my abdomen was an angry red scar that's wound had almost sterilised me.

"Whoa," Sayu whispered. She moved forward as if to touch it but was intercepted by Light, who traced the scar gently with one finger, closed his eyes, and sighed. When he looked at me again there was a mix of annoyance, anger, concern and, dare I say it, fondness among a dozen other impressions.

"Only you," he said quietly.

I, quite despite myself, grinned.

That feeling of goodwill wasn't to last, however. Misa visited again, telling us I was free to go tomorrow afternoon, and then each of them had to leave as visiting hours ended. Quinn promised to be there as soon as possible in the morning; Misa requested again that she be the one to take me home and gave me a kiss on the cheek that might or might not have made Light clench his fists; Sayu hugged me as tightly as she could without causing me pain, saying she couldn't cope in a house of only boys for another day without me; Light lingered by my bedside, apparently dithering, then as quick as a flash planted a kiss on my temple. He left without saying a word and I stared after him, wondering what new game was beginning. It didn't feel like a manipulation though. The faux-relationship had ended. In that kiss I sensed only . . . affection. Was that the right word? It was the closest I could find. There was an undercurrent of desperation too.

When my family and Misa had left I attempted to sleep. I drifted off for a while, kept on the edge of true sleep by the aching of my back that I refused to anaesthetise entirely. So the nurses kept me just on the threshold of discomfort and I drew a feeling of humanity from it. It was so much nicer than the numbness I'd devoted myself to for the most trying parts of February.

There was a soft thud. Blinking awake, I glanced around and found everything to be the same, right down the to desk lamp on its lowest setting. The room was bathed in the soft yellow glow, casting a warm glow to everything in the white room. Except the dark notebook on the end of my bed. The words Death Note were written on the front in thick Japanese characters. Convinced this was a dream, I leaned forwards, wincing at the twinge in my spine and right forearm, and picked up the notebook. It was of the same material as Light's, but on the inside cover there were no rules written, nor anything in the pages. If I didn't speak Japanese and hadn't met Light Yagami, I might have thought there was nothing out of the ordinary.

However, the ordinary, I was soon to find, was a long way away.

Flicking through the pages, a piece of paper fluttered out. Without thought I plucked it from the sheets and glanced at each side, wondering if it contained a hidden message. As I held it up against the glow of the lamp, I caught sight of a shadow in the corner of the room.

A tall, white shadow, with thick, purple-tinged hair, a body made of vertebrae and pale muscle and two stick-like wings sticking from its back.

"I am Rem," it said.

I screamed.

TOWRTA: I'm back? (And she breaks into a parody of 'Bad' by Michael Jackson - blame my HSM marathon as celebration for finishing high school.) Sorry this took so long. You can thank az23bv for this as she sent me a PM complaining about my radio silence. I've been getting sorted for university and hostel life next year so . . . (exams are over! Woo!)

Alex (anon): Ahahaha! I shall convert you to the cult of Light Yagami! It is an enjoyable, if sometimes questionable, club. I'm going to have so much fun with this group of . . . what is it, eight now? With the Yagamis, Catearros, Misa, the Shinigami and L and Watari, you're absolutely right; Minerva doesn't have much wiggle room at all, does she? She's in a downward spiral that I don't think Light, with all his 'support', can fix. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and you'll be seeing a lot more Misa and Rem and Ryuk in the future!

So guys, tell me how it is (oh, and does anyone want to beta for this lazy editor? You have to be good with grammar, not imposing on my story, and being willing to put up with my weirdo schedule. It'd be awesome to have a helper!).

Thoughts for next time?

Next chapter: rem.