notes/warnings
+ wow this is later than expected I'm so sorry.
+ in which Matsuda finds a cat
Backbone
Teru presses one hand against his mouth. The ringing in his ears grows louder and louder in a sickening crescendo. Around him, people are moving. He thinks Kylie might be crying. He cannot process anything that is going on, in fact he can barely think.
"No," he says hoarsely, his voice barely audible to his own ears.
Nobody listens. Nobody even looks at him. Kylie continues to sob, Edison continues to be in hospital, and Stanton continues to look as if she couldn't care less. The spiel she just gave about Berkshire being a valued colleague was word-for-word identical to the sample grief speech in the officer's handbook. In fact, maybe she even wanted him dead. Now there's one less person standing in the way of her next promotion.
Now there's one less person protecting L.
"What was he doing in Belford?" Kylie wails. "He should have been at home."
"I don't know," Stanton answers. "Out of hours, officers are permitted to undertake any legal activities that they choose, as long as they comply with the code of conduct."
Teru is almost positive that whatever Berkshire was doing, it was in an effort to thwart Mills and protect L. Someone like Berkshire would never die in anything so mundane as an accident. It occurs to Teru suddenly that he'll never know what happened, because he'll never see Berkshire again to ask. He's suddenly all along in the world with no allies and no way forward and Stanton is quoting the damn rules.
Kill her, his subconscious suggests. Delete her. It will be worthwhile.
He wants to. God, he wants to. Teru fingers the standard-issue baton clipped to his belt and wonders how much time he'd have before the others managed to pull him off. How many blows would it take?
And that's exactly why he can't. He can't become a monster again, not even for someone who really deserves it.
Can he?
Besides, he still has the tap under Stanton's door. As long as he can monitor her conversations with Mills, she's an asset. And as long as Teru lives, he will go on fighting. He'll muddle through this somehow, even if it kills him.
He has to. For Berkshire.
"Everything's fine," Aiber says, cheerfully. "Let's get out of this place before she finds out that we're here."
"Man, I feel bad for doubting her," Matsuda says, matching his tone. "She can steal a billionaire's socks at fifty paces; of course she can recognise her own sister."
"How do you steal someone's socks at fifty paces?" Aiber asks, bemused.
"Wedy can," Matsuda answers, with utmost confidence.
"I'm still not sure I like this," Naomi says from the front seat. "We should at least try to contact her. What if she's being held prisoner? Or what if this woman just hasn't made her move yet?"
All three of them look askance at L, who is curled up in the window seat with his chin on his knees and eating something gooey from his fingertips.
"Aiber," he says, slowly. "You have known Wedy longer than I. Aside from the man who killed all of us, have you ever seen her bested?"
Aiber considers this. He's seen Wedy injured, and he's seen Wedy frustrated. He's seen her captured – briefly – and once he swears he saw her very nearly sad. But Wedy does not lose, she has never lost to anyone who is not Light Yagami, and the girl he saw in that hotel room is definitely not Light Yagami.
"No," he answers. "I'd trust her with my life, sister or not."
L nods.
"We are a team," he says softly. "Teams can only be maintained through trust."
"This isn't about trust," Naomi says, sounding upset. "We owe her our protection. She may not be safe."
Aiber can understand her point, to an extent. The problem is that Naomi Penber is a better person than any of them, and sometimes really good people aren't cut out for this sort of work. Wedy needs to be able to handle something like this, or she'd be useless. If her loyalty is in doubt, then L might as well fire her on the spot.
"Are any of us safe?" Matsuda wonders, glibly. "I mean, we live in a world with death gods and stuff, right?"
"Not in the third world," Aiber tells him. "Nothing like that happens here."
"Oh," Matsuda replies, sounding oddly morose. "Okay."
"I do not feel that it is fair to pry any further into Wedy's private life," L says. "Please take us back to the headquarters, Naomi."
"Understood," Naomi says, tersely.
Matsuda hums in the back of his throat. If Wedy is fine, then everything is fine. He loves the third world even more than the second world, because everything seems to be just a little bit better here. L is a little bit kinder, their team is expanding, and everyone keeps saying there are no monsters here. Everyone knows that most patients at the London Main hospital recover, even though nobody knows why. And everyone – including Matsuda – knows that Light Yagami will never get out of hell. Even the awful rain has been replaced by a thick, neutral mist. Matsuda quite enjoys driving in the mist, because when the traffic is sparse, he can pretend there's nobody else around at all. That it's just the six of them, free to explore this world without fear of baddies or disasters.
Like right now, for example. The mist is particularly bad, so they can only see a few yards ahead and behind them.
Matsuda snuggles into his seat and cheerfully ignores the tension between L and Naomi. The third world is such a nice place, and maybe nothing will ever go wrong here.
Michelle Midlan checks the GPS and adjusts her speed slightly. At this distance, they cannot see her and she cannot directly see them. When the mist is this thick, it's perfect for following people. She couldn't have asked for an easier job, really.
Michelle grew up in the most rural part of Georgia, the eighth child of two loving but overworked parents. She has, in total, eleven brothers and zero sisters. In theory, she wouldn't mind having a sister. But in practice, she thinks that Wedy is an idiot for wanting something so badly that it could be used against her.
The GPS shows the cars around her, highlighting the one that the blond man entered, the one that she is certain will lead her to L's headquarters. GPS devices aren't supposed to allow you to follow other vehicles unnoticed, but this one has been specially altered by Theo. Or Theo's boss. Or someone. Michelle doesn't know who he actually works for, and she doesn't care. Money is money, and it's not like she's going to go to hell for finding out someone's address.
Or probably not. Michelle has a hard time believing that hell and other worlds exist. She was born into the third world, about fourteen standard years ago. Apparently in other worlds, children took eighteen or so years to grow up. But she's been an adult for a few years now.
"Must have been boring, have to wait so long," she mutters to herself.
Ahead of her, the other car turns off the main road, into a street she's never seen before. A street which – oh that's so clever – has no name. Michelle has to hand it to this L character: he's nearly as smart as the rumours claim. If you're a wanted man with enemies, you might as well build your hideout in a location that's not easy to communicate.
The car pulls up. Michelle stays out of sight, taking note of the landmarks. Then she calls Theo.
"We're going to have to meet up," she tells him.
Naomi pauses, one hand resting on the roof of the car.
"What if this were still a trap?" she says, hesitantly.
"Unlikely," L says. "And I do not wish to have this argument a second time."
"I know," Naomi says, hugging Connor tightly. "I just. I've been thinking; what if Michelle is dangerous, but she's not after Wedy? What if she's after us?
"Wedy will never lead her back here," L says, with absolute confidence, tugging on his lower lip. "So if that is her goal, her efforts will be fruitless."
For a moment, Naomi doesn't move. Then she turns to L, eyes wide, face pale.
"She wouldn't have to," she says, quietly. "L, she could have followed us."
"She was asleep," L says doubtfully. He does empathise with Naomi's fear. He is with his team, and there is no evidence of foul play. "And she would have had to see us at exactly the moment we left."
"There's no way of proving she was definitely asleep," Naomi argues, and L wonders if she's just going to argue with him forever. If their dynamic has changed past the point of return. Dying changes people, and so does falling in love, and perhaps the combination of both has cost L his relationship with his deputy.
"She was definitely asleep," Aiber says, loudly. "I know people, and I know what I saw in that hotel room."
L nods, feeling relieved.
"Thank you," he murmurs.
"But," Aiber continues, frowning. "I did get a weird feeling when we were coming home. Like, at one point I thought I saw a car behind us, but a second later there was nothing. I figured I was just imagining things."
L meets his eyes for a moment, and can find no trace of dishonesty. L rubs his fingertips against his temples for a moment, processing rapidly. If there is any real possibility of Michelle having tracked them here, then they are all at risk. Wedy is especially at risk.
So, is there any real possibility?
L doesn't know. A hunch and a vague feeling do not constitute valid evidence. A few years ago, he would have dismissed such things as trivialities. Or…perhaps he would have investigated them in the name of being thorough. Perhaps he wouldn't have accepted the risk.
L cannot remember what he was like a few years ago.
He…cannot remember.
"In the absence of a good decision, I'm making a rash decision," Matsuda announces, unexpectedly. He takes Connor from Naomi and hands her to Aiber, then jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "Let's get back out there."
And Naomi nods, firmly, and a second later they're back in the car and pulling out of the garage. And it occurs to L that maybe, right now, his decision doesn't matter.
He runs after the car, because whatever is about to happen, he won't leave Naomi and Matsuda to deal with it on their own.
They meet up at an abandoned house, about three minutes drive from the place that Michelle has identified as L's headquarters. Their interactions are brief; time is of the essence. Gabriel Mills is waiting, and Theo Anthony doesn't want to disappear.
Theo frowns at the tiny 'x' inked onto the map in front of him.
"You're sure?" he asks. To be honest, he'd wanted better evidence than this. He had hoped Michelle would at least find a way to observe them arriving with her own eyes. Still, if this truly is L's hideout, then substantial evidence won't be difficult to obtain.
Michelle leans her hip against the desk, which is the only remaining piece of furniture in the building. She is so much like Wedy. She really was an amazing find. Theo should do this sort of thing for a living.
"How much are you paying me again?" Michelle drawls.
Theo sighs deeply. He doesn't have time for this. He can't afford to disappoint his beautiful, wonderful Chief of Police. And Wedy is the only known associate of L. If he fails today, he may never have another chance. Wedy will not fall for this trick a second time, he can count on that.
"Eighty thousand dollars," he answers, tersely.
Michelle nod profoundly.
"I'm eighty thousand dollars worth of sure," she replies. "Now let's get out of here, before someone finds us."
"There are three suitable meeting places nearby," L tells them, quietly. He sounds very subdued and small, and Naomi almost feels sorry for him.
She can feel sorry for him when Wedy is safe. When they're all safe. Now is the time for action and guns and hopefully not being too late.
"A derelict house, an unpopular church, and a large convenience store that is still under construction," L continues. "All are within a two mile radius of our headquarters."
Naomi nods.
"What if she just emails the map to her accomplice?" Matsuda asks. "What if they're meeting up, but further away?"
"Internet reception here is terrible without a landline," Naomi tells him. "And the other is a risk we have to take."
They can't search everywhere. But they can search nearby. Aiber and Connor are presently en route to a hotel. If anyone plans to attack the building, there will not be any casualties.
"So, which is it?" Naomi asks L. The house, the church, the convenience store. A meeting to mark a map will not take very long. They only have a one-in-three chance of making it on time. "Where do we go?"
L chews on his thumb. Poor leadership or not, he's still the best deductive genius they have. He's still the man who solved unsolvable crimes, who defeated Holland and Ellen and Marvin and Takada and hundreds of others, who wasn't afraid to take on Light. Naomi still admires him, still wants to work for him, and that's the worst part. She's not exactly going to cut and run just because he's started slipping. She'll stay by his side forever, until one of them ends up in hell.
"The house," L says, thoughtfully, and then shakes his head. "No, the convenience store."
"Because it's an unlikely meeting place, and they won't be expecting us to guess it?" Matsuda asks, brightly.
"Yes," L agrees.
Naomi grips the steering wheel tightly.
"What's our percentage?" she asks.
"Sixty-nine percent," L tells her, promptly.
Naomi nods.
"Sounds good," she agrees, tensely, and turns off towards the convenience store.
They only have one chance.
"Nobody's going to find us," Theo says, confidently.
Why would anybody know what they're up to? Why would anybody even suspect? They wouldn't. Even the Great Thief herself has been taken completely by surprise. Theo takes his phone from his pocket and dials Mills. He has an address, just as he promised her. The next step is to find L, and then… Theo isn't sure what comes after that. But he imagines L isn't going to like it.
"You know, I wouldn't be so sure of that," someone coos, right behind his ear.
Theo whirls around, panicked, fingers scrabbling blindly for his gun. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Michelle freeze into place. And there, sitting on the windowsill is…
…is Wedy.
She's as impressive as ever, with her shiny black gun, and her perfect hair and her skin-tight catsuit and her favourite boots. Theo knows they're her favourite, of course, because he invested a great deal of time in pretending to be someone she could trust.
He's starting to wonder now whether that was a good investment.
"Don't move," Wedy advises them, pointing the muzzle of her own gun from Theo to Michelle and back. Then her expression changes slightly, her tone growing sickly sweet. "Well, look at this. If it isn't my sister and my dear friend Anthony. With…oh, what looks like my boss's address. Wow. Golly."
Theo backs away, holding up his hands, intensely afraid. How did he fuck up this badly? He can't afford to fuck up this badly. He cannot disappoint Mills. He refuses to disappoint Mills. He'll die before he disappoints Mills.
"Now just wait a minute," he says, shakily. "Don't do anything rash."
Dying is easy, anyway. Wedy is barely threatening him with anything at all, when you think about it. What is he even afraid of?
Well, hell, in a word.
"It's not what you think it is," Michelle chimes in, sounding frightened and small. "I really am your sister. You know that. I took this case because I had to; because it was the only way I could find you."
She's a damn good actress, Theo will give her that.
Wedy seems to hesitate for a moment, and Theo raises his phone and dials furiously. If he's going to die, he's going to die fucking trying. Beside him, Michelle raises her own gun. It's a good strategy. It'll buy him time, because Wedy will have to work up the courage to shoot her first, and by the time she gets to Theo he'll have already-
Bang
Bang
Theo crumples to the floor, and hears the thump of Michelle doing the same. Wedy watches them, looking not the least bit worried or conflicted.
She was always prepared to kill us, Theo realises, with a rush of abject horror.
"If you're wondering whether you passed my test," Wedy tells him smoothly. "The answer is no."
Naomi pulls up outside the abandoned house.
"We're already too late," she whispers. "There was nobody in the convenience store. Even if they were here, they'd be gone by now."
L has no idea how to comfort her. He wonders what it must be like, to be in a position like this and to have a child. To face the threat of separation from a loved dependent. L never had to face that. He and Rae were always equals, if nothing else.
"We knew there was a thirty-one percent chance of being wrong," Matsuda points out, cautiously getting out of the car. "We might still be able to—"
"You can turn right around and keep driving," someone drawls from the doorstep. L looks up, surprised. It isn't Michelle, it's Wedy. "I sure as hell don't want to talk to any of you right now."
"Wedy," Naomi mutters.
"What are you doing here?" Matsuda asks, nervously.
"Getting rid of the people who were about to distribute our address," Wedy says, calmly. "And destroying the evidence."
"Oh," Matsuda answers, rubbing the back of his neck. "We thought you were asleep."
She wasn't asleep. Of course she wasn't asleep. Somehow, Wedy has known exactly what was going on this whole time, and L is an absolute idiot for doubting her competency. She wasn't being played, she was under deep cover. L doesn't fully understand it yet.
"I'm not mad at you," Wedy tells Matsuda. "God knows you only do what you're told."
And then she turns away from him, facing L, shoulders square and jaw set determinedly.
"What happened?" she demands, loudly. "I told you I needed three days. This is not three days."
L nods. He can recognise that, now.
"We thought you were being duped," he says, honestly.
Wedy raises an eyebrow.
"Have I ever been duped before?" she asks. "Other than you-know-who? Because I don't reckon I have. But you nearly got us all into serious trouble. Why do you think I was keeping her away from the headquarters?"
She deserves honesty, if nothing else. L has never seen her this angry.
"I concluded that you just wanted to spend time with your sister," he offers.
"Oh, that's right," Wedy snaps. "You thought I was overcome with feelings. Damnit, L, I was trying to prove that Anthony was a plant."
L doesn't think she's ever called him by his name directly before. She must be extremely angry.
"Hey," Matsuda ventures. "Hey, um."
"Not now," Wedy tells him, waving her hand. "This was my project, L. It shouldn't have involved you or anyone else at all!"
"That's not fair," Naomi says. "I was involved from the start."
"I couldn't control that," Wedy says hotly. "I didn't know when he was going to make his move!"
"Is there supposed to be a cat here?" Matsuda wonders. "Because there's a cat here."
"How are we supposed to work together if you don't trust me?" Wedy finishes. She's breathing heavily, visibly flustered. L feels terrible.
Matsuda has found a stray cat to play with, some sort of Bengal cross. He doesn't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation.
"I was the one who didn't trust you," Naomi says, taking Wedy's elbow. "L wanted to, on several occasions."
"That's to be expected, from you," Wedy retorts. "That doesn't mean anything."
"It means we ought to go home," Naomi says. "And finish this conversation in private."
"Fine," Wedy says.
So they go back, to their building that is still safe because of Wedy and not because of L. Matsuda spends the entire trip talking about the cat.
L spends the entire trip trying to figure out how he'll manage if Wedy leaves.
They've gone.
Theo forces his eyes open, and finds that his vision is blurry. His chest aches sharply, his limbs are weak, and the floor is sticky with his blood. There's a bullet in him, and he doesn't have long. But he isn't dead yet, and Wedy is stupid for not checking more closely.
Looks like he fooled her today after all.
With shaking, feeble hands, he reaches for his phone and calls Gabriel Mills.
Without warning, the alarm starts blaring. Light sits up abruptly, wondering if there is a fire nearby. It doesn't matter, because he cannot leave the house. Better to burn than to be recognised.
But better not to burn at all. Light gets up from the filthy bed and makes a mental note to have Shadow steal some wigs and makeup. If he could disguise himself, then maybe he could go outside, at least in an emergency. If he can survive in this world for long enough, maybe people would forget what he had done.
Ugh, is that really the best he can hope for? He's a genius. There was a time when nobody in the world could best him, not even L. Surely, surely that time will come again. Only this time, it isn't enough. He can't just win through eliminating the competition. He has to also—
The alarm is coming from Shadow's screen. Light abandons his train of thought, because there, on his wall, is L.
And Naomi. And Wedy and Matsuda. But they are all utterly irrelevant. L is here. L is in the third world, and for a moment Light knows exactly where he is and what he's doing. Slowly he moves across the room, towards the screen. Seeing L again is like taking an anvil to the skull, exquisitely painful. Light shouldn't be capable of falling in love, just like he shouldn't be capable of losing. This is impossible to bear.
But still. He is here.
"What did you do?" Light says hoarsely. "What did you do?"
He gave L all his remaining lifespan. L should have been kicking around in the second world for years, if not decades. But instead he apparently died in a couple of months. Useless fucking asshole.
And then they all get into a car and drive away, and Shadow doesn't manage to follow them even when Light screams at her.
Just like that, he has nothing again.
"Help," Theo bleats, breathing heavily. "I'm dying…she shot me…I've got the address but…I need to point…on a map."
Gabriel Mills clicks her tongue sharply against her teeth. As the Chief of Police, she can't go rushing to the scene of a shooting without arousing suspicion. And the last thing she needs is suspicion. Her identity is a trump card, and she will not play it until the very end.
But if Theo has an address, then he's done better than she expected. His life is a negligible price for such valuable information. L must be stopped at all costs.
"Hold on," she tells Theo, firmly. "I will send someone out to meet you."
When they get back to headquarters, nobody speaks. Even Matsuda seems to recognise the tension in the air.
"Are we okay?" he asks Wedy, hands shaking at his sides.
She kisses him deeply.
"We'll always be okay, sweetheart," she tells him, and means it.
She goes upstairs, and passes Naomi on the way. Neither of them says a word, but that's pretty normal, too. Naomi did what Wedy expected her to do. She panicked and she doubted, and that is the role of a good deputy. L is the problem, because he ought to trust Wedy. He used to trust Wedy. He's changed so fundamentally that she doesn't know how to proceed. When she enters his office he makes an effort to look at her, swivelling his chair and sitting up straighter, acting just like any other man in her presence.
He used to barely glance at her, too absorbed in his work.
"What do you want?" L asks, quietly.
"I want you to trust me," Wedy answers. "And another pair of seven thousand dollar shoes," she adds, for the sake of completeness.
L nods slowly.
"But you are not infallible," he points out. "And neither am I. The problem seems to be that my perception of your limits is incorrect."
Wedy frowns.
"My limits haven't changed," she informs him. "You've changed."
"Yes," L agrees. "And more disturbingly, I seem to have forgotten how to be the way I was before."
"Why have you changed?" Wedy demands, because she needs to know if this is something they can resolve. Business partnerships are like relationships, in that the all have an expiration date. If she and L cannot trust each other – for any reason – then she might as well leave right now.
L tilts his head upwards, peering at her. The fluorescent lights cast shadows over his face, making him look like an eerie child instead of a fully-grown man. And then he appears to reach a decision.
"I am going to tell you something," he says, softly. "None of the other people presently in our team know about it, but I am going to tell you."
"Then, go ahead," Wedy says. She doesn't have time for drawn-out heart-to-heart conversation. She either has an entire professional relationship to rebuild, or a lot of packing to do. Either way, she's going to be busy.
L nods.
"In the second world," he begins. "I met a god of death."
"I don't even fucking believe it," Kylie says, hands on her hips. "Here he is, fucking magic healing man."
Teru stands beside her, feeling uncharacteristically bubbly and fragile in ways he doesn't understand. Even Daniels, hovering sourly in the doorway, can't dampen his mood in this moment. For a moment, the Berkshire-shaped hole in his world doesn't seem absolutely insurmountable.
"Oh god, don't start," Edison says, beaming. "The doctors kept calling me a medical marvel. I was worried they were gonna keep me behind to study me."
He holds out his arms and Kylie practically jumps on him. He doesn't even flinch.
Eight weeks the doctors had said. Five before he could even stand up without assistance. Nobody recovers from fractured ribs in a matter of days, but Samuel Edison did it anyway. They say that sometimes miracles happen at London Main hospital and, if anyone deserves a miracle, it's Edison.
"Welcome back," Stanton says, sounding like she's quoting a textbook.
"Thanks, Sarge," Edison replies, putting Kylie down and moving towards Teru, grinning like a maniac.
Teru briefly panics. In his entire life, he's never really had proper friends. Nothing in his excellent memory or his perfect daily routine has prepared him for this. Nobody has ever been happy about touching him before.
Edison hugs him emphatically, and Teru tries to hug back. He puts his hands on Edison's ribcage, running his fingers over the places where the breaks should be. Nothing. He's completely recovered. Damn, this is awkward.
"Berkshire," Teru whispers to Edison.
"I know, man," Edison replies. "I'm sorry."
Somewhere in the room, a phone starts ringing. Then Stanton says 'I need to take this call', and Teru hears her walking back down the hall. He releases Edison immediately. Something is happening.
"I have to go," he mumbles. "Welcome back."
Edison shrugs and launches himself at Daniels. Teru uses this moment of distraction to push past his deputy sergeant and makes it into the hall just in time to see Stanton disappear into her office. If she requires this much privacy, it's probably a call from the Chief.
Teru presses his ear against the door, listening closely. The concept of vengeance for his dead mentor still weighs heavily on his mind. Perhaps he can kill her and make it look like an accident. But it would be better still to have concrete evidence that Mills and Stanton colluded in Berkshire's death. They haven't spoken about anything incriminating yet, but there's always a chance. Berkshire was a brilliant officer, and sooner or later the tap is bound to be useful.
"L's address?" Stanton murmurs ,on the other side of the wall. "Are you certain?"
There is a pause, during which Mills presumably says something. Teru's heart is pounding in his ears. They've…they've cornered L.
No!
"I see," Stanton says. "We need to receive it in person. Yes, of course. Yes, ma'am. What are his coordinates?"
She leaves a moment later in a squad car. Teru follows her in his own car, address of an abandoned house scribbled on the back of his hand, gun on the seat beside him.
He cannot fail. Not this time.
Wedy's expression betrays nothing, but that is not unusual. As L finishes, she lights up a cigarette and takes a deep drag.
"Wow," she says, after a moment. "I'm not one to judge, but that's one hell of a love story."
L nods, regarding his own feet. He feels particularly vulnerable and somewhat ashamed. It is not right for a human to be in love with a Shinigami. And even if it were right, it will never be easy to explain. But perhaps this confession will allow him to salvage his friendship with Wedy.
"Honestly, I'm relieved," Wedy continues. "I was damn sure you were gonna tell me that you'd lost respect for me because you'd met my father."
"Never," L tells her, honestly. "That you had a family, and that it was not perfect, is no reflection on your worth as a person, or as a colleague."
If nothing else, he knows that excellent detectives can still arise out of broken homes. His home was one of the most broken of all.
"But I need to find the person who was Rae," he tells Wedy, somewhat relieved to be able to speak with someone about this. "I need to know that she is safe, at the very least. I understand that her circumstances may have changed, and I understand that she may not want my company, but this job is pointless if we cannot even protect the people we love."
"And with that shift in your world view," Wedy surmises, "you assumed that I would do the same, and sacrifice a little of my job for the person I loved."
L doesn't answer. He doesn't like the scenario Wedy just described. He would not sacrifice any of his team for the chance to be with Rae. He loves these people as well, even if it was Rae's influence that caused that love.
"Just one problem, then," Wedy says, inhaling slowly. "I don't love Michelle."
"Yes, I noticed," L says, somewhat relieved to have the conversation turned away from him. "You disposed of her with proficiency."
He has nothing but respect for his thief. She has excelled at every aspect of this case. He hopes, somehow, that he can make amends. But there is one thing he wants to know, first
"How did you know that Michelle was not your real sister?" he wonders.
Teru parks within easy range of the abandoned house. Somewhere inside, someone is waiting to pass on a message about L's address. Just outside, Stanton is gathering her things together, including several large maps.
After she leaves the car, before she enters the house. That is Teru's only window. If he shoots her, the person in the house will die of their injuries, and nobody will ever know. He just has to shoot her. He just has to delete one more person.
It's Stanton. She deserves to die.
Teru clenches his spare hand against the edge of his seat. He can't do this. He can do this. He can't. He can. He mustn't.
For Berkshire.
Berkshire wouldn't want him to kill.
Berkshire wanted him to save Edison.
Edison is better anyway.
Berkshire is dead.
If he shoots Stanton and goes to jail, L will be safe from her and the world will be safe from him. Isn't that enough? It's the perfect plan.
It sounds like exactly the sort of thing Light would have come up with.
Teru feels like he's going to asphyxiate. His hands are clammy. Edison hugged him so tightly, and he's such scum. He turned people to stone. There's a mark on his head. Stanton deserves to die. There's a cat wandering around the streets. Teru wouldn't kill a cat, would he? Who is he to say that a cat is better than Stanton?
It doesn't matter. Stanton is going to destroy L, and Teru cannot let her do that. She opens the door of her car and he takes aim. And then she stops, hesitates, like a wild animal sensing something on the wind.
She knows, Teru thinks. I have to shoot.
He removes the safety catch. Stanton fiddles with the silver ring on her finger, as if that will save her. And that's when everything starts to fall apart, because she just…
…disappears.
She just ceases to fucking exist, like the monsters in the second world. Like the demons that Teru used to believe in as a child, until he learned that bullies and humans were much much worse.
She reappears right outside the door a split second later – quickly enough for Teru to wonder if he's just gone mad, or if he had a micro-seizure – and she enters the house before he can readjust his aim.
Delete, Teru thinks, desperately. Delete, delete, delete.
He knows he wouldn't have shot her even if he'd had the chance.
Wedy smiles, finally, flashing white teeth at him. The effect is like a midday sun peeking through heavy cloud cover, and L feels somewhat comforted.
"Oh, that's easy," Wedy says. "I mean, I'd like to say that it was my excellent observational skills, or that she made some tiny error that I picked up on. But the truth is a lot simpler than that. I don't even have a sister."
L blinks, nonplussed.
"So, that day at the café," he says, slowly. "You were simply lying to me in order to mislead Anthony."
Of course. That was the day he had met Anthony. Wedy had chosen those words specifically for him to overhear, in order to test his loyalty and trap his deceit.
She is amazing.
"Well, not exactly," Wedy admits. "What I said to you was true. My father did find out about my mother's scan and tell me that she'd replaced me with another daughter. The few weeks after that, when I actually believed what he'd said, were the happiest of my life."
L tilts his head. There are only two possibilities.
"Either your mother miscarried, or you have a brother," he deduces. "Either way, you never got the sister you were promised."
"Correct," Wedy says, firmly. "The latter, not the former."
"You have a brother," L muses. "Is he a thief?"
"I dunno."
"Does he resemble you?"
"I dunno."
"Who was his father?"
"I dunno," Wedy says, irritably. "Don't know, don't care."
L is taken aback by her attitude. Surely one sibling is much the same as another. And then he remembers Naomi's earlier words.
Sometimes, L, women want the company of other women.
Is it really that important?
"You have absolutely no desire to find him?" he ventures.
"Yeah," Wedy says sarcastically. "Because if I found him, maybe…ooh, maybe we could go to a ball game. Wow. I have enough men in my life L. I don't need a brother."
"Understood," L replies. "Then, we ought to talk about how you and I can work together."
It's not as if there aren't more important things to focus on than the whereabouts of Wedy's brother.
Lydia Stanton understands the battle between the supporters of Chief Mills and the supporters of L. She has been given ample opportunities to learn and study, to apply the theory of the rules to the reality of the job. To reach L, there are two types of people who must be overcome.
The first are the idealists. People like Constable Mikami, prepared to follow their own sergeant to a remote location in an unmarked vehicle. Prepared to wave a gun in the air and contemplate murder when they think nobody is watching. Able to be dissuaded with rules and regulations and if necessary, magic.
"Thank god," Theo Anthony gasps weakly. He is lying on the floor in a slowly-expanding pool of blood. His face is pale and his eyes are dull. He does not have long to live.
Stanton gets down on her knees, and spreads the map over a clean part of the floor.
"I am Sergeant Stanton," she says. "Gabriel Mills sent me here. Please show me the address of detective L."
She lifts the upper part of Theo's body into her arms, supporting him so that he can reach the map.
"Here," he breathes, pointing a shaking finger at a point on the map. Blood from his finger stains the paper, making the mark permanent. "This is L's address."
"Are you certain?" Stanton asks.
"Yes," Theo says, shuddering. And then he points, over and over again, to the same spot. "Here. Here. Here. You tell Mills I told you. You tell her I succeeded."
"I will," Stanton answers.
The location doesn't mean anything to her, but she assumes L must have had a reason for choosing it.
Minutes pass. Theo dies in her arms, still pointing at the map, and she holds him tightly. Like most other people in this world, she knows what it is like to die.
When he is dead, she takes out her phone and dials Chief Mills, keeping one wary eye on the window, and her free hand on her ring.
In the battle against L, the second type of people that must be overcome are the realists. The battle-hardened veterans who have fought evil before, who have abandoned idealism in favour of strategy. The patient ones who infiltrate the police force quietly and earn the respect and trust of their superiors.
"Well?" Chief Mills asks, briskly. "Did you get the address?"
Stanton looks at the bloodstained map, a representation of all of Theo Anthony's hard work and desperation. Then she looks at the fireplace by the door.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," she says, with absolute respect. "He was already dead when I arrived."
"Understood," Mills replies. "Return to your regular duties, sergeant."
It's only a temporary setback. Mills will built a coffin around L where he stands. And when she drives that final nail in, Stanton will be right there.
To stop her.
tbc
a/n:
+ I now return you to your regular uncertain posting schedule. sorry guys.
+ but never fear I am still working on this fic
+ thank you
+ ilu