Chapter 8: Feeling Guilty
Near awoke for the first time in two days, on the long ambulance ride home from the big city hospital. He was nowhere near ready to be released, the doctors had said, but they had him transported back to Wammy's anyway. Something about blackmail and debt and promising to make it all go away if the hospital followed their directions in regards to the boy. Near wasn't aware of all this, however.
In fact he was only vaguely aware of the beeping of the machine wired to his very heart. Only vaguely conscious of the IV drip in his arm. He was only vaguely aware of the tight, white bandages wrapped around his forehead, and the dull throbbing in the back of his skull.
What he was very aware of was the pain of his chest, which had him breathing as shallowly as he could. The shaft had torn right through his body, the surgeon had said. In one side and straight out the other. It had re-broken his bad rib and smashed through a couple more. All the surgeon could say was that he was lucky it had missed his vital organs. He was lucky to be alive. Lucky he was healing so fast.
Near wasn't sure what he felt, now he had regained consciousness, but he was fairly certain he didn't feel lucky.
It had been the roof beam, he remembered dully as the sound of the road danced around the edge of his consciousness. The fire had grown too large; it had weakened the already weak rafters and they had broken and fallen. And one of them had gone right through him. Right through him... It was his own fault. Tears of pain and shame trickled out from beneath his closed eyelids. He didn't want them to know he was awake. Didn't want to talk to them. Didn't want to be subject to those grave, serious looks of theirs.
He was so stupid. He should have taken into account the structural integrity of the building. He should have known that the fire would grow that high that quickly. If he had they could have gotten out in time. He wouldn't have blood on his hands.
He wasn't supposed to know about it, but he had heard them gossiping whilst he was pretending to be asleep. The Asian girl and the little boy that had died. Apparently Rei had been killed immediately. The heavy beam had killed her on impact. But Pepe hadn't been killed- he had been trapped underneath it, and Brendan and Simon hadn't been able to get him out. So he had burnt alive.
Alive and screaming.
Every time the painkillers pulled Near down to sleep he was tormented by nightmares of screaming. Screaming and burning flesh. He would wake in a panic and strong hands would push him back down against the bed until he stopped struggling. He ended up fighting sleep. Fighting against it as if his life depended on it, however hard the painkillers made it. He would bite his lip, try not to blink; anything that would keep the dreams at bay. He spent the hours drowning in an ocean of torment; if it wasn't the dreams, then it was the physical pain of his injuries, or his very thoughts, twisting and turning on themselves, going round in circles, driving him insane.
Was he a murderer now, he wondered as he tried to keep from falling asleep. Was this what being a murderer felt like, he wondered. No... This was what too much morphine felt like. He'd had this feeling before. He tried as much as he could to keep his mind from Rei and Pepe. From Pepe's scream of agony and terror. From the smell of burning flesh. He tried to keep his mind from the devastating certainty; that he had killed them.
He was taken to his room in a wheelchair. He kept his eyes on his feet, perfectly aware of the stares he was receiving as he was wheeled by. He wanted them to go away, all of them. He couldn't stand to bear their judgement. He hurt too much right now. It hurt far too much.
The medics helped him into his bed and he bit his lip to keep the tears at bay. Bit his lip against the pain. He feebly asked the nurse that had helped him how long it would be until he was better. She gave him a sad look and told him that he had broken and re-broken that rib too many times now, it would never fully heal. He would always experience some pain. He waited until she had left to cry. It was a silent, dead kind of crying. Dead, like how he felt dead right now. It wasn't the pain. He could deal with the pain. It was the fact that he had no one to blame the whole mess on except for himself.
He had messed up. It was simple as that. Through his own oversight and stupidity two people were dead, and he would probably never be able to walk again. A tiny, doubtful voice in his mind wondered if one had to be able to walk to be L; if one could still be L if one was a murderer, as he drifted off to sleep.
He was woken not by nightmares this time, but instead by voices; calling out down the hallway outside his room. He cracked an eye and cocked an ear, attempting to ignore the merciless throbbing in his chest and his mind long enough to eavesdrop on whatever was happening outside. It sounded like something important was happening.
"Ben! Ben! BENJAMIN!"
"Kelly, I'm already late for-"
"This is much more important than chemistry."
"You're gonna get me in trouble!"
"Fine. DON'T listen to what I have to say about L is coming to Wammy's." She said the last phrase as if it was one word.
...What?! Near's eyes flew open and he sat, forgetting for the briefest of moments his injuries, which shortly and firmly asserted their existence. He bit his lip to keep quiet. He needed to hear...
"...What?" the boy, Benjamin echoed.
"Nothing. You don't want to hear it. You want to go listen to another boring chemistry lecture."
"Kelly, you tell me or so help me I'll-"
"L. Himself. He's coming to visit the orphanage. Like, in person. For the first time ever."
"You're kidding me. No, you're messing with me. Who told you that?"
"I overheard Roger on the phone to Mr. Wammy himself."
"Seriously? Oh my God..."
"He said it was about those two kids that died last night. You remember Rei from your music class? And Pepe the midget one?"
"Kelly, it's not polite to say stuff like that about dead people."
"Whatever. All I know is that I'm going to go tell everyone else. When they hear they'll..."
Their voices faded into the distance and Near was left dumbstruck. L was coming? Here?
Suddenly a great fear settled deep into his heart. L was coming. Because of Rei and Pepe. Fear took hold of him like it never had in his life. L was coming in person, she had said. L was leaving his case- the most important case he had ever taken- showing his face as L, even if it was only to the few Orphans and staff of Wammy's... Regardless, L was about to seriously compromise his personal safety... and it was all Near's fault.
He tried very hard to stifle the panic that was constricting his chest, making it even harder to breathe than it already was. She might not have been telling the truth anyway... She might have heard the conversation wrong... Dizziness was settling in, making his head feel light. L wouldn't come... he couldn't... could he?
...Really?
Deep down inside of him, past the panic and despair and agony, there was a small piece of him that wanted to see L's face. A part of him that wanted L to be there, with him. More than he wanted to. More than he felt he should...
xXx
L had arrived in the middle of that night, while all the children were in bed, so as to avoid a major disruption. Now he sat alone in a sparsely furnish child's bedroom. The room he had requested.
The suitcase Watari had packed for him lay open at the foot of his bed. A mess of white shirts, blue jeans and half-finished Pocky boxes. He was only staying until the funeral was over, then he would be gone, back to Japan and the constant threat of death hanging over his head. Despite what had brought him here, it felt good to be back. He looked at the ceiling; scrutinising it. After so many years without seeing it once, he could still remember ever crack and bump in it.
The funeral was in two days time. L sighed, laying back on the squishy bed that had once upon a time been his own. Two days he had here, without Matsuda or Aizawa or Watari or Yagami... Either of them... He sighed once again, breathing in that familiar, that delicious, musty scent. The scent spoke to him of his childhood. Of those sepia coloured days after he had been brought to Wammy's... Saved by Wammy's... The big oak tree, the library, this very room. The second bed that used to occupy it... Bright, baleful red eyes... He snapped himself out of it.
He rolled onto his side, pressing his cheek into the covers as he gazed upon the spot that that bed had once stood. No... He couldn't think on that. No matter what had happened then, this was different. Near was not like B, in any way at all. He shut his eyes tight, shutting out the little voice in the back of his head that spoke of the two children Near had killed. He didn't intend to kill them... It was an accident... But how did he know? After all the endless torture the little boy had to endure? It might have pushed him right over the edge... Just like B... I survived far worse trials than what Near has had to go through. I was younger than he is too... But you're not exactly the poster boy for mental health, are you?
L sat up, drawing his knees to his chest, so his mind would clear. He couldn't let the ghosts that haunted this place get to him. He took his black laptop out of his bag and set it up on the bed, intending to resume work on the Kira investigation. That was something that would keep his mind occupied, at least. He had seen Near, before they had set him up in this room. Only briefly, and the boy had been asleep.
It had been different, though, to see him in person. Not as an image on a computer screen. He had been sleeping with a tiny frown on his face, his chest gently rising and falling as he breathed. It had been something of a shock to realise just how pale he actually was; not just a trick of the computer screen. Nearly translucent, even, his hair as fine as spun sugar. L wasn't sure why the realisation had such a profound effect on him. Perhaps it was because while Near seemed so fragile, L remembered the way that he spoke; with such confidence, such force of character. It was peculiar. Perhaps he really was stronger than he seemed, L mused as he looked on the sleeping boy. They had said he was healing fast...
L was jerked from his musings by a loud knock on the door. He looked at his watch. Nine in the morning. He had been sitting here for longer than he had thought.
"Enter." he said softly, expecting Roger with breakfast; he had been told were he to dine out in the hall with everyone else, there would probably be a large commotion. And Wammy's really didn't need a commotion right now.
Instead, as the door swung open he was presented with two teenagers, one a blond and one a redhead, both with grave expressions on their faces. If L was shocked, it didn't show on his face.
"How may I help you?" he dead-panned. They were silent a long while as they took in his appearance. It took him a moment to remember that even though he had seen them both before, they had never once laid eyes on him. He could almost hear them judging him. So this is L... they were thinking. Doesn't look like L... Are we in the wrong room?
"You're not in the wrong room." he informed them, and they looked up into his face with surprise, almost as if he had just read their thoughts. "I am indeed L. I know you are Mello..." he pointed towards the blond, then turned to the other. "And you would be Matt, I presume?"
The redhead jerked out of his stupor and nodded vigorously. Apologetically even. However it was Mello who first spoke.
"We want to talk to you, L." he said.
"Oh I see." L replied in a sarcastic monotone, "For a moment I thought you wanted some Pocky and I was going to tell you both to go away." He looked up from his computer and gave them both a dry smile that said get to the point. He saw both their eyes flick to his open suitcase, taking in the contents with a little bit of confusion. Mello shook it off, however, and gave him a hard look in the eye. Brave little Mello.
"You're here for the funeral, right?" He leant back against the wall, thumbs hooked in his belt loops.
"News always travelled fast here." L commented vaguely, by was of replying. He returned his gaze to his computer, biting his thumb. Maybe if they thought he was busy they would leave him alone.
"You're not here for him then?" Mello shot back. A vast silence met the teenager's words. He scowled at L, who seemed to be refusing to look at him, eyes fixed only on the computer screen.
"I don't see how that is any of your business." L eventually replied, coldly.
Mello saw red. Suddenly his black-clad palms had slammed down on the bedposts and his furious face was only a foot and a half from L's. Matt opened his mouth perhaps to issue a cry of warning, but if he ever made it L would never know, as Mello had already begun to speak.
"When you ordered me to physically assault one of my best friends, without giving me any reason except for a threat, and also told me I was never again to show him any kind of kindness or warmth of any sort-" he hissed through gritted teeth. "That was when it became my business. When you ruined my life."
L returned Mello's furious stare with a cold one of his own, apparently unmoved. Mello thought he had a harsh life did he? However, inside, L couldn't help but feel angry... though he wasn't sure why, exactly. It wasn't like Mello's opinion mattered, anyway...
"Is that so?" he simply dead-panned in reply. Mello glared furiously at him. Then, after a long pause in which neither moved; "Is Mello finished?"
"Mello," Matt hesitantly began, and Mello took a step back, scowl still on his face.
"Look." Mello said, crossing his arms, "We just came to tell you you have to call off your experiment. Though, since you came all the way here from Japan, I figure you already know the reason why so I don't really think I have to explain it to you-"
"On the contrary. I have no idea what you're talking about. Enlighten me." L reached down to withdraw two sticks of Pocky from the box by his computer. Mello gaped at him for a moment.
"The two god-damn kids who died, L!!" he cried. There was a desperation in his eyes. A desperation L found amusing, crunching on his Pocky. "What more do you need?! He's turned into a fricking monster! You've got to stop this!"
"Please calm yourself, Mello."
"But you're seriously telling me you're not going to call it off!? After what happened!? People have died, L!!"
"One day, Mello, you will learn that sometimes sacrifices are necessary. Besides, people are always dying. There's nothing particularly special about it."
"Fuck that! And fuck you! What the hell are you even trying to achieve here!? All you've done is ruined everything!!" tears were standing out in his eyes. He felt everything so keenly. L patiently waited for him to finish. "You think you know what you're doing but you're just hurting him!"
Suddenly L was on his feet.
"Your concern is noted." his eyes were steeled, hard as flints but something burnt behind them. You're just hurting him... Mello had stuck a nerve. What the hell did Mello know? He knew he could show them how petty their arguments were, if he were so inclined. The possibilities were endless.
He could have told them about the weight of the Kira case and all that might happen to the world if he died with no successor, but he didn't. They wouldn't understand. He could have compared their feeble problems to what had happened to A, or to B, or himself before Wammy's house had taken them in, but he didn't. He was too proud, and they were just children. Pathetic, whining children who knew nothing.
And L was right. Even if he was hurting Near, then that was a necessary evil. The end most certainly would justify the means. In fact, it would save him, in the end. He wasn't hurting Near, he was saving him. Mello was the one who was wrong.
"I am sorry to cut this conversation short, but I have work to do. You can show yourselves out." Go away.
They stared at him for a couple moments, mutely. Mello stormed out of the room first, leaving Matt to quietly shut the door behind him. However at the door the red headed teen hesitated, turning back around to L to look at him through tinted goggles.
"It wouldn't kill you to care about someone else, you know." he said softly. Sadly.
L simply looked at him, eyes black and fathomless.
xXx
"L? Can you hear me?"
L nestled himself deep into his covers, his sleek black mobile phone to his ear, his sleek black computer on his knees. He had spent the greater part of the day curled up in this very spot, only going out to meet with the children once. That alone would have been exhausting enough, what with their questions and clamouring for attention, but the conversation with Mello and Matt had made him want to be alone anyway.
He wasn't really sure why. What had they said that made him feel this way? That pressure, that suffocating pressure was back in full force, and he hated it. He told himself he had to continue with the operation. He couldn't call it off. It was because of Kira. If he died, the Kira needed an opponent. The world needed him to have one. And Near was the best option there was.
But deep inside him, imagining that fragile, pale child up against the biggest mass-murder the world had ever seen made L uncomfortable. He couldn't pinpoint how he felt about it exactly. It just seemed... wrong. You're hurting him! He knew that... he had known that the whole time... So why did it suddenly matter now? What had changed?
"L!" Watari's anxious voice finally got through to him, snapping him out of his reverie.
"Hn?"
"Are you there? Is everything alright, L?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
"I've been saying your name for a couple minutes now and you haven't responded."
"... It must have been the phone. Maybe something happened to it whilst you were installing all the new security." L easily lied. The truth was, he had been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't been paying attention. His thumb tasted of metal.
He looked down at it in mild surprise. His teeth had left little red holes and purple bruising on his skin. He must have bit right through it when he had been thinking. He wrinkled his nose at the bitter taste, and pulled out another couple sticks of Pocky to mask the flavour with. As he was wiping the blood on his covers he became aware Watari was speaking again.
"Before I report on the Kira case I feel I have to ask... is everything alright with Near?" L looked up at the computer screen, opening the e-mail system he had created and programmed specifically for Watari and himself. No one else in the world even knew about it, let alone knew how to access it. It was probably the most secure system in the world.
"Sending you all the info now." L said, pressing a few important keys with his forefingers. "Sent."
Making fast progress. I haven't been in to see him as of yet, but I've been keeping an eye on the security footage, and he's been kept occupied. Puzzles, for the most part. He hasn't eaten since he's returned, but they've lowered the dosage of painkillers, and he's adapting adequately.
On the end of the short message was attached several clips of the security footage so Watari could see for himself. There was a brief break in the conversation as the message was sent and Watari reviewed all the contents.
"That's all."
"I see." There was more silence; L presumed Watari was watching the security footage he had sent.
"...Wouldn't sitting like that..." Watari began hesitantly, "Well, wouldn't it cause him immense pain? With his knee to his chest like that, a whole lot of pressure would be put on his ribs..."
"Precisely." Replied L through a mouthful of Pocky. "That's the reason he does it. He has worked out that the pain sharpens and focuses the mind. He has discovered how it helps him to think." There was a long pause as Watari registered what L had said. Then, curiously;
"L... your spine, is it still-"
"The rest of the orphanage seems to be dealing with the two children's death fairly well, actually-"
"L!-" Watari reprimanded, but L cut in, eyes narrowed, voice raised slightly. Firm.
"Only one child had to be taken to the counsellor, actually. She broke down in tears during her art class, but she felt well enough to have lunch with the rest of the children in the hall. I think we over estimated the impact of the recent deaths. Things aren't as bad as we had expected." That's a blatant lie, L thought to himself. The deaths had sent a shock through the orphanage, that much was plain to see, even simply from the consistent drop in the grades of every student across the board. But the spiel had served it's purpose; Watari had given up on his question.
"The funeral is tomorrow. I don't believe Near is attending but I have heard he is the only child who isn't."
"And the security there?"
"Roger's best, I'm informed"
"Well I trust Roger's judgement." Watari seemed satisfied.
"I don't." L shot.
"L, be reasonable."
"You weren't the one abandoned by the side of the road in a straight jacket for two and a half days."
"We've been through this."
"..."
"L... tell me, are you okay?" Watari's voice was worried. That pressure was there again in L's heart, suffocating him.
"Watari... I've been here almost twenty hours now, and I still haven't gone to see him." L was toying with the now empty Pocky box, tearing it into long strips of cardboard, as if afraid to keep his hands still. "I think... I'm afraid to see him. To speak with him in person." L's voice was very small, and it unsettled Watari just a little bit.
"It's called guilt, L." Watari said bluntly, hoping to snap L out of it. "You have every reason to be feeling it at the moment, with all you've done to him. I thought you were impervious to such things." Watari wasn't good at sarcasm. L made the mental note to mention this to him later.
"So did I..." L replied quietly, making short work of the Pocky box. So that was what that suffocating feeling was. That relentless pressure upon his heart. It was guilt. L mused on this for a moment. He'd always associated guilt with criminals... Guilt was something the guilty felt... But he was guilty. So very guilty... He felt dizzy.
"It's... not too late to call it off, you know." Watari said gently. But there was an eager edge to his voice that suddenly made L feel sick with petulant anger. With resentment. No!
"Yes it is." L snapped, harshly, for him. "It's far too late. Besides. I made the right decision." he narrowed his eyes, and Watari heard it in his voice.
"Whatever you say, L." he sighed and began his report on the Kira investigation. As he spoke, however he noticed that L seemed to be not quite all-there.
After all, Watari was able to read L in a way no other person alive was able. While most would see his customary blank stare, Watari would notice the direction of the gaze and other small things, which often gave some hint to his thoughts. And, though now he did not have body language to rely on and L's voice was it's usual emotionless monotone, Watari couldn't help but feel that there was definitely something seriously troubling him. And he also felt he knew what it was...
Watari finished his report and the transfer of all the new files, but he was reluctant to sign off just yet. He had to say one last thing.
"It's okay, you know. To feel things... It's a way of knowing you're alive." L could feel the gentle, fond smile in his voice. The voice he had used when L was only a young child; woken from a nightmare, perhaps, or having skinned his knee.
"I already knew I was alive." L retorted half-heartedly, raising his cut thumb to his lips, sucking on the wound. Then, after a long silence;
"Watari..." he nearly whispered it. "...I can't help but feel I am making a huge mistake..." Watari, far away in Japan, simply smiled his gentle smile and shook his head.
"It is never a mistake to care about somebody."
A/N: POOOOOOOCKYYYYY! Because L needed some sort of sweet that was relatively easy to transport across countries, and Pocky is also very Japanese, so it makes sense for him to bring it with him. And very delicious. I feel a little more sorry for L in this one, everyone's picking on him D=
And about the whole straight jacket by the side of the road thing... I'm not entirely sure what that was. Some subtle hint to L's mysterious past, perhaps? Same with the subtle hint about his back condition. And then the not-so-subtle hint about BB.
Anyway, I want to say thanks again to everyone who reviewed and favourited or even just read it (you lazy people =P). Love you all!
~CANDY