A/N: FFFFFFF-

I'm so ridiculously happy at the moment. My witty, bitty Imo is back from her little wanderjahr! OH MY BABY'S BACK (I'd coddle her to death if I could)! For those of you who don't know who my Imo is, check out our joint-account: ImoOzzi. Also, she's known by "Tsukiyomi the Kami." D'aw so cute. :3

Just so you know, IT WAS AMY THAT WROTE THE FIRST PART OF THIS CHAPTER. Now thank her and adore her. :D No, I mean it, she's the greatest person on this given plane of existence. I mean bow down to her. Kiss her toenails. I mean it, I do.

Oh and check out Nubial Sheep's profile/story. Do it, do it. Peer pressure!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, man, seriously. DON'T HATE.

-

"Pale in the dark, not even God-invoking,
we lie in chains, too weak to be afraid."

-Sydney Lanier, The Raven Days

A Vicious Circle
-
xii
-

His breath caught in his throat with a hoarse little choky noise that reminded him that he hadn't had anything to drink in God-knew-how-long, and he held it in without realizing it, and when he finally did his vision was going funny colors and he exhaled so hard that he felt like BB has just punched him in the solar plexus. Sunrise-colored light shifted in through the cracks in the slats and boards covering up the window, red like the blood all around him –from him-, red like the crazed maliciousness in BB's eyes, red like fire and pain and misery.

So he cried.

He hunched over with his hands still chained behind his back and he cried, cried bitter, wracking sobs that hurt his diaphragm when air surged in and pained him when he wheezed it out. He cried for the sheer injustice of it all. He cried for his mother and his father, who he really didn't remember but craved, and Watari, and The Team and everyone else he wanted to see again.

For a long time he was conscious of nothing but sobbing like a five-year-old, which felt all the more shameful for the fact that he hadn't done it since early childhood, when his life had been out-of-control and chaotic and scary… just… like… now.

"What?" he heard his own voice mock suddenly, rough with self-directed anger, "What, L? Are you a fucking child now? Are you?" He slammed his fist, his bruised, torn fist, down on the concrete beside him, and winced at the pain. It wasn't the same type of pain that enveloped him constantly, not the dull, throbbing agony that built up until he'd give his soul for it to end. That was, at least, something different than what he experienced as of late. "Ow…" Was that him? Did he really sound that weak?

No.

No.

No.

He was L, goddammit, the world's best detective! He had faced death and won a hundred times before. This situation, albeit more… difficult, would be overcome as well, as sure as he was sitting here.

Fucking… lucky.

"Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home…"

Ohgodohgodohgod his breath was starting to be uncontrollable and he could barely hear above the throb of his frantic heart.

"Your house is on fire, and your children are gone…"

The singing was coming from all around, a maddening noise, something composed of pure malice and hatred and sadism and something else he really couldn't identify. He was beginning to quiver like a chased animal, which, some partition of his mind realized detachedly, he was.

"All except one. His name is is L…"

Time almost stopped and L felt something collide with his foot and with a panicked screamyelpcrynononono he crashed into the concrete floor, the sheer adrenaline of it all tearing the piano wire from its post; his shoulder hitting first, and it made a noise that didn't sound so good and he screamed again, his lower back slamming into a board of wood, and he reached behind him to shove it away, try to get upupup, but all strength siphoned out of his limbs and through his lips in the form of a frantic wheeze as a dark form –him but stronger, crueler, worse- appeared, features obscured by shadow in the dim light, hovering over him like a fever.

"And he ran and he ran until he fell…"

Cruel laughter erupted, horrible, echoing around the walls and the ricocheting back at him, pummeling him with its intensity. Then the figure arched back and up in joy, stretching its arms out like a god or a prophet.

"And now Hell is where he will dwell…"

Are you Satan?

But L knew. He knew in his heart of hearts, no matter how badly he wished to deny it, who this apparition was. He wasn't a boogey-man or a vampire. He was a human capable of evil to no end, and for that reason alone his efforts redoubled and he forced himself to roll over -and was that a nail that just punctured his side?- and surge forward, crawling in an exhausted roll and tumble of mangle limbs.

He could see an open window, just covered by a couple of boards, only thirty feet or so ahead. The sight of it was excruciating, like the light at the end of a tunnel, and he felt blinded by it. He couldn't see anything else but that bright, bright light. If he could just get there…

A hand snatched him and before he really could tell what was happening, because his surroundings were just one big monochromatic blur, he was being pulled back in the opposite direction, BB's hands clenched around his wrists. He felt numb, clinical, as if experiencing this through the portal of a game or on TV. The pain was still there, and he could still feel blood, hot, pulsing blood, leaking out of his side, but--

"You've been a very, very bad boy, Lawliet." Being thrown down, crashing into a shelf, being kicked in the stomach, hearing something go crack, hearing himself scream. "Are you listening, Lawliet? I'd hate it if I damaged your delicate little ears. You've been a bad boy, don't you know?"

He could still see the window, still see that he could slip out of it with little trouble, but he knew that he would never, ever reach it now.

"I had to try," he admitted weakly, stumbling backwards, his spine slamming against the wall. His head fell onto his chest—he felt like a pneumatic bird, a little weak thing to be caged.

"L…" He refused to meet the man's gaze. "Lawliet, look at me."

L

"Motherfucker! Fucking answer me, you little bastard! Don't fucking ignore me! Fuck! Fucking answer me or so help me god I'll make you wish you were never born!"

L's head lolled back as a punch landed directly in his face. It felt numb for a few tingling seconds, as blood rushed to the area, but then began to throb. "I've wished that for a long time," he forced out, finding it hard to breathe, "so I don't think you could do anything else to hurt me."

His antagonist's voice was quiet, thoughtful, like a soldier with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder after a murderous rampage. "Do you think that?"

"I know that, BB," he said calmly, calmer than he felt. L tried, desperately, to quell the trembling in his arms and legs, and pressed his back against the cold hard concrete wall, if only to get a couple of inches farther away from him. "As much as you dislike it, I'm smarter than you'll ever be, and I'll find a way out of this, and you'll be given the death penalty, and you'll go to Hell, where you belong."

Out came a laugh from the dark figure, with something in the tone that disturbed him. "If that's the case, shouldn't I… enjoy myself now?" He took a step forward, and L drew his legs up against his chest.

A fierce bitterness began to drip out of his heart, anger with no outlet. He was not some fucking child to be punished. He was a grown man, a rich man, a smart man, someone who would not become a submissive boy. "Go ahead," he goaded. "Hit me. My team will find me soon enough."

BB chuckled, a deep, amused laugh. "But will they want you, when they see what's been done to you?"

"Fuck you." L shifted around so that he was facing the corner. He didn't mean to sound petulant, because it was undignified, but he was. "Go fuck yourself."

A weight fell down on his shoulders, heavy, and it felt like BB's arms. "No," he purred, "fuck you."

In about a millisecond, with desperation-born strength and adrenaline, L spun around to face the man, red eyes to black. "W-What?" There was a hardness against his belly and L struggled to identify it for a second before-- oh god no. This was his last chance. This was fight-or-die, or as-good-as-dead. His ankle was sprained but he could deal with that, and using a move he'd learned a long time ago he wedged his knee between them and pushed back with as much force as he could muster. BB cursed and fell back, rebounding in a second. That chance was enough.

L limp-lunged for the door, hands frantically scrambling around the doorknob but… it… wouldn't… open.

"Oh, fucking no…" It came out as a weak moan, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up when he felt a presence behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Oh, fucking yes!"

Then he was tackled to the floor and something was tugging tugging tugging at his clothes and he arched his back trying to get away--

"Get the fuck off of meeeee!" He was hyperventilating, he couldn't breath, pain pain pain. BB was groaning like a tree –rockabye baby on the treetop- ow! Hips up in the air… ow! Nononononono this is not happening this is not happening ((Couldn't you kill people this way, by hurting them internally?)) and then it was done before it had begun and that fucking psychopath was laying next to him twirling his hair and ((He'd seen people who'd been raped before. They were so pitiful and weak.)) "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" he shouted, shrilly, or maybe he thought it instead because his voice was so hoarse from screaming.

"Someone has been a bad boy… do you know who that is?"

Not again. Aren't you finished yet, you monster? Go die. I hate you. I want to die. I want you to die.

"Take a key and lock her up…"

His arms were wrenched behind him.

"Lock her up, lock her up…"

The clench of cold steel closed around his wrists.

"Take a key and lock her up…"

He felt lips on him, biting, hurting, a body on top of him like his own but not.

"Lock her up… my… fair… lady."

-

The tedium that had long since settled in the cold, lifeless room was disconcerting. Mello had known that finding B would be a long, hard process, and he was aware that the only being on any plane of the universe he respected could die, but he found it exceedingly difficult to move beyond how monotonous this investigation was.

He couldn't even fire off rounds, given that in Japan it was "illegal," and every man in the vicinity had the metaphorical "head" shoved up their asses.

Besides Matt, of course, but he was a given.

"You know," Mello spoke to the air, twirling around some locks of blond in a manner that did not resemble his foe, "there cannot be that many train stations in this area. I mean, like, there has to be some kind of abandoned shed by a certain one. I'm fairly sure we're not in an area known for housing homeless people."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Light offered him a daring look; he was silently pleading for the blond to take the bait. Well, well, well it seemed Mello wasn't the only one bored around here.

"It means that you're all being lazy," Mello drawled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "We need to get out on the field and take action! Stand up, sheeple!"

"Mello," Matt intervened, and Mello looked down upon him with a perplexed gaze, "give it a rest. No need for the zeal."

It would be Near who would agree with the teen. "Mello's right. It's blatant that we are getting nothing done. We're just wasting oxygen and space."

"Why, thank you Near."

"It was not a problem. You, for once, made a valid point."

And there was that smug look that Near would share with him every now and then. That damn annoying look that, it seemed, was especially reserved for Mello. "Why I ought'a.."

"Shut up, Mello, we need to work. L could be dead, for all we know. B hasn't called us today." Light smiled at Mello, the condescending tone of his eyes not going unnoticed by the flailing teen.

"Fucking assholes."

-

A/N: Lmao. "Fucking assholes," what a grand way to end a chapter. 'Cause, you know, L got effed up the a? Lolwfkajldsad

THANK AMY FOR THIS CHAPTER BECAUSE I'M A TOTAL FAILURE AT LIFE. (insert sad face) Wake up, sheeple!

Oh, check out ImoOzzi. It's Amy and myself's joint-account. Get a feel for how we write, and brace for epic.

And review, and tell me how horrid I am. And stay tuned for more news on myself and Amy. We're going to write another tale together! :D