This will be the last update before Christmas, so merry Christmas to you all! Thank you all for sticking with me!
In case you're wondering how many chapters are left...I'm wondering that too! I expect there will be 3-5 more, but we'll see.
I don't own Death Note or Sherlock Holmes.
When Light went back to sleep that night, he had a prochlorperazine nightmare in which L was a dashing young gentleman who glittered when he walked, slept with Light occasionally, and killed himself while Light was busy cursing a loaf of bread. It was not only disturbing, but it utterly cheapened the depths of the story that L had confessed, and it made Light wake up feeling nauseous, despite the prochlorperazine he had taken before going to bed. So, he decided, perturbed and full of spite, that this damned prochlorperazine was useless, and he did not take it at breakfast. And, feeling no different but for his rising disgust with the pharmaceutical industry, he did not take it at lunch either. And so, by the time it was three o'clock, Light was kneeling in front of the toilet, shivering, alternating between vomiting violently and lying exhausted with his cheek against the cool porcelain. By four o'clock, he had shed his clothes and crawled into the shower, where he sat with his eyes closed and the hot water spray drumming into his back.
The whole time that Light had been getting sick, L had not spoken. Light had assumed that this was L's way of communicating, "You're a dumbass. Take your fucking medication when you're supposed to." But perhaps this was just Light projecting his own thoughts onto L's silence, because he had been in the shower for a half hour when he heard a noise at the cell door, not the sound of food being brought to him, but the sound of the door opening. Light listened closely, wondering if it was perhaps Watari coming to kill him, wondering whether he would decide to fight back if it were. But the shower curtain drew back, and it was L, climbing in with all of his clothes on.
"Hello," Light said.
"Hello," L said, crouching at the front of the shower, where water began creeping into the bottoms of his jeans. He looked at Light, and if possible, his dark circles looked darker, and his hair looked not only messy, but tangled and unwashed. His fingers were bonier than Light remembered, and they twined together nervously. Light had been eating and sleeping so relatively well that he had forgotten that L wasn't necessarily on the same schedule. What had the oncologist said about L needing to take better care of himself?
"You're a bit overdressed," Light said. L gave a half shrug, allowing this. "When was the last time you showered?"
L thought back, and said, "Three mornings ago."
Light said, "That's disgusting. I'm in prison and I'm dying of brain cancer and I still shower every single day."
Again, L gave a half shrug, this time with his mouth curling slightly up.
Seeing the almost smile, Light consulted with Kira, and concluded that it couldn't hurt, that in fact it would kill two birds with one stone, drawing L strategically closer while also conveniently indulging Light's own desires. "Well," he said, easing creakily out of his slumped position on the floor, "it's never too late for a shower." Holding out his hands, he tugged L closer towards the shower spray and helped him to undress, tossing his clothes out into the cell.
While Light washed L's hair, he noticed how much more the bones of his spine stuck out of his skin than the last time he had seen them, almost a month ago. Remembering, Light checked the back of L's neck to see if the bruises were still there. It looked like they were not, but Light couldn't be sure. After he had rinsed out the shampoo, he kissed a careful half-circle around the back of L's neck, which L tolerated uneasily.
"I'm sorry," Light said. "I mean that, you know. I wish I could have thought of a better way to do it than the way I did. It was necessary and it was cruel."
"You said the Death Note was forcing your hand."
"I did say that."
"And you were lying."
"Well."
"It wasn't a very good lie. I saw your eyes while you were strangling me, and I saw your eyes afterwards, and they were the same. You may not have shinigami eyes, but you have Kira eyes."
"I was working under pressure. It was the best I could come up with at the time."
"You did brilliantly, of course. The whole you. You've never fought dirtier or better."
Light did not reply for a long moment, and then he drew away slightly, and said, "I feel sick. I think—"
L turned, looking far too concerned for Light's wellbeing considering what they had been discussing. "If you need to—"
"I don't know. I—" Looking at L was making him feel worse, because he was remembering how L looked almost a month ago, naked and dripping and bruised around the throat. Was this—? No, impossible. Kira didn't feel—
And, incredibly, as if he knew, L softened, and said, "I don't think…" and leaned forward and—hugged him.
It was impossibly gentle, and somehow it felt like Light was being hugged for the first time. He shook and did not know how to hold L back.
"Fuck," he said, weakly. "I love you. Goddammit. I fucking love you, but I don't know how to."
And L said into the crook of his neck, "I don't know."
They spent a very long time in the shower together, and they emerged at around dinnertime, their fingers and toes soft and pruney. They dried off, put their old clothes next to the door, and dressed in Light's black cotton prison clothes. A little while after they were dressed, the food door opened, and two trays of dinner were slid through, identical but for the fact that there was a little cup with a prochlorperazine tablet in one of them. They sat on Light's cot, facing each other, and ate.
"You're getting too thin," Light said, as L picked at his food.
"I'm always thin."
"Not this thin. You're losing fat and muscle."
"A bit, perhaps."
"No, not a bit, a lot. I know what you looked like and felt like just a month ago, and it's not the same as now."
"I suppose."
"Is Watari feeding you properly?"
"Of course."
"Are you getting enough calories?"
"I'm eating fewer sweets, I suppose."
Light was horrified. "But what about your deductive reasoning?"
L shrugged. "My cases aren't hard."
"What about the Kira case?"
"The Kira case is over, Light-kun." He paused. "Unless there's something you aren't telling me."
"L, there are always things I'm not telling you, and there are always things you aren't telling me."
"I've kept Kira away from the world. You haven't spoken to anyone other than me, Watari, and the oncologist in a month."
Light said, "Hm," and he said too much.
"What have you done?"
"Are you genuinely expecting me to tell you?"
L frowned.
"If I just gave up on being Kira, I wouldn't be the person you love."
"If you think that, then you know nothing about the way that I love you."
"That may be."
L frowned deeper.
"Eat more sweets," Light said. "Because of the Kira case, and because of your health. And practice your capoeira."
"Because of the Kira case?"
"Probably not, but maybe. Mostly because of your health."
L was silent for a moment, and then he said, "How did you know about the capoeira?"
"I didn't recognize it until the first time I mentioned it to you. I researched her afterwards, and it wasn't until I had the memories and had seen you using it that I connected the dots."
"Why did you kill her?"
"She was about five minutes away from telling you that I was Kira."
L smiled, proudly.
"She was on the Beyond Birthday case with you. Beyond Birthday was B in your dream."
The smile dropped. "Yes." And then the fallen smile shifted into a frown that pulled at L's faint brows. "How did you kill her?"
"I don't think you need me to tell you that."
"Obviously you used the Death Note. But was it simply a heart attack?"
"Wouldn't that be in the police files?"
"Her body was never recovered."
Light recalled L's dreams, and flushed.
L started. "You're going red. What did you do to her?"
"It's not important."
"You didn't do something macabre, did you? I mean, you didn't cut her up into little pieces or blend her or eat her or anything?"
"Ew. No way. Why would you even think of that?"
"Light-kun, I investigate serial killers."
"I suppose."
"Well, what was it?"
"I don't want to tell you."
"Why?" And then L paused, and looked closely at the way Light was making sporadic eye contact, and he stiffened. "You didn't."
Light did not reply.
"You wrote in the Death Note for her to commit suicide."
Light was silent, and L stood swiftly from the bed.
With his back turned, L said, "You know, Watari didn't fight with me when I suggested going down to help you when you were throwing up. He usually would get very angry at any such suggestion, and I didn't imagine that he would ever agree that it would be a good idea. He said that he trusted me to make any decision I thought wise. I waited outside your door for ten minutes before coming in."
The words came out all on their own: "Do you still love me?"
L flinched. "Why would you ask me such a thing?" And, dressed in Light's prison clothes, he walked out.
Light stared at his cup of prochlorperazine for half an hour before taking it.
Three hours later, Light seized for the second time, and Kira seized for the first time.
He was lying in bed with his hands behind his head, wondering whether how far Misa and Ryuk had gotten with the whole Death Note plan, wondering whether Ryuk would stick around more than Rem had been, wondering how L would react when he saw it on the news, wondering whether the news would broadcast the situation properly, when he saw a crack in the ceiling that looked incredibly familiar. In fact, the sight of that ceiling was so overwhelmingly familiar that he whispered in surprise, "Déjà vu"—or at least tried to whisper it, because when he tried to whisper he found that he could not figure out how to say the words. And then he realized that this was a seizure, and he tried to tell L, but again he could not. Finally, he managed a stream of sounds that sounded almost like Greek, like some parody of the opening lines of The Odyssey, but that were definitively not. He sat up, feeling disoriented, fixated on the crack in the ceiling that he felt convinced had been in every ceiling he had ever seen.
Surely L would have heard the noise he had made. Surely he would check in on him.
He reacted to the thought of the God of the New World wanting someone to check in on him, not with disgust or disdain as he would have expected, but with a deep fear. His heart began to race, and his head was a muddle of helplessness, and the seizure did not lift, and, again, he tried to call out for L and only succeeded in a faint cry. Still there was no response. He tried to count how long this seizure was lasting, because it was much longer than the other one, but he got lost in his own head and had to start over.
Finally, the speakers crackled and L sighed heavily into the microphone. Stiffly, he said, "Yagami Light, Watari has requested that I speak to you and find out whether you are alright, despite my insistence that you are a full grown human being who is fully capable of letting me know if you are not alright."
Light could not reply, and he began to sob.
"Light-kun." L sounded stunned. "What's going on? Are you in pain?"
Watari spoke from slightly farther away: "Yagami-kun, are you having a seizure? If you are not having a seizure, please point to the ceiling. If you are having a seizure, we understand that you may not be able to perform any motions at the moment."
Light did not reply, and he was reassured that at least he had answered the question properly this time, so he was less afraid, but the sobbing only grew.
"L," Watari ordered, "stay by the monitors. I am going to check on Yagami-kun. I understand that you would want to come along, but we need someone by the monitors, and I am the one with the medical expertise."
L sounded too shaken to protest. "Okay," he said, weakly. "Light-kun, Watari is coming to help you."
Light could imagine few things worse, but he wasn't in any position to protest. Surely Watari wouldn't kill him with L watching, even if Light said or did something inflammatory and Watari lost his temper.
In less than a minute, Watari entered the prison cell, without his gun for perhaps the first time. Presumably he was more concerned by the possibility of Light grabbing the gun than by the possibility of Light attacking him physically. He had with him the first aid kit he had brought when L had cut his head open, but instead of pulling out some kind of seizure detector from the first aid kit, he simply sat on the cot next to Light, pulled a handkerchief out of his suit pocket, and began wiping Light's tears.
After a few minutes, the seizure started fading, as indicated by the fact that Light started focusing less on the familiar crack in the ceiling and more his status as God of the New World, and he jerked away from Watari's handkerchief. He still could not speak, but he knew that if he could speak, he would say, "Thank you, but that is not necessary. I am perfectly fine." After another minute, he could speak, and, slowly, with difficulty, he said, "Th-th-thank you, but I…that is not n…necessary. I—I am p-p-perfectly f-f-fine." It was less than convincing, which Watari did not comment on, and Light flushed, and after another two minutes, he was able to say, having run through the words over and over again in his head, "Thank you, but that is not necessary. I am perfectly fine."
"Very well," Watari said, once Light had proved himself able to speak again. He looked much less angry than he usually did, but it might have just been because he wasn't wielding a gun or threatening to send Light to his execution. "Can you please tell me what happened before, during, and after your seizure?"
Light told him that he had been thinking about the Kira case, which Watari didn't even make a judgmental face at, and that he had had a sense of déjà vu because of the crack in the ceiling, which Watari could barely see even though it was still incredibly obvious to Light. It was difficult to describe what it had felt like to not be able to talk, not because it was physically difficult to speak, but because when the description came out of his mouth, the experience sounded not nearly frightening enough to bother crying about.
But as Light struggled to make the severity of the incapacitation clear, Watari simply nodded and said, "Seizures get the best of even the best of us. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
Light felt his face warming even as he said, "I'm not ashamed."
But Watari gave him the benefit of the doubt, as L would never have done, and he said, "I'm glad to hear that." And then, impossibly, Watari set a gentle hand on Light's shoulder. "I will contact your oncologist, and I will let you know when she would like to see you. You already have an appointment scheduled for two days from now, so I would imagine that she would want us to go ahead and keep that time, but I will let you know if the appointment is moved up. Is there anything I can get for you to make you more comfortable? Perhaps a light snack or some tea?"
This had to be a ploy. By now Light was thinking clearly enough to know that something was wrong here, but not clearly enough to figure out what it was. Cautiously, Light said, "No, thank you. Especially with my nausea earlier today, I don't want to eat before bed."
"That is very fair. If there is anything I can get for you, just speak up, and either L or I will bring it for you or get it done for you."
Suspiciously, Light said, "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Yagami-kun, there is something that I have been wanting to tell you today. Would it be alright if I told you now?"
Here it was. This was going to be the threat or the warning or the trap. "I suppose."
"I know that you probably do not care very much for my opinion, and I know that we disagree on several issues, but I wanted to let you know that I no longer wish you any ill. I admit that until recently I was angry with you and I wanted you to suffer for your actions. I sincerely apologize for my words, my actions, and my attitude towards you. I am in no place to judge you, and I wish you the very best in all facets of your health. I retain my convictions that your actions as Kira have been wrong, but I forgive you, and I no longer hold your actions as Kira against you. I will not stand in the way of your relationship with L, and I will embrace your presence here as long as you and L wish it. I hope that you can one day forgive me for the way I have treated you, because I sincerely would like to have a harmonious relationship with you. Please do not hesitate to ask me for anything. As much as I am here to assist L, I am here to assist you."
Light had been waiting this whole time for the catch to come, but Watari had finished his speech seemingly without ever getting to the catch. Had Light just missed it? Did he dare ask straight out whether he had missed the catch?
"I see that you are having difficulty believing me," Watari said, "and I understand. I do not expect an answer. I simply wanted to let you know, so that we can begin to repair our relationship. Again, if you need anything, just let me know. I hope you have a peaceful rest of your night."
Watari picked up his first aid kit and gave a little bow before leaving.
After Watari had left, but before he had returned to the monitors, L said, "Holy hell."
Light looked down at where Watari had left his handkerchief on the cot in a neatly folded square. "That was really fucking weird."
For the third night in a row, L woke Light up in the middle of a nightmare. "I'm still upset with you," L said, as Light groaned and rolled out of bed, chased by the quickly fading memories of a nightmare tsunami, "but this is important. I think you were right about Watari having brain cancer. I need you to help me convince your oncologist to make him get scanned when we go to your appointment in two days."
"I was mostly kidding," Light said groggily, crawling back into bed and hugging a pillow to his chest. "I don't actually think he has brain cancer. It's possible, I suppose, but that would be too much of a coincidence for the both of us to have the same kind of brain cancer at the same time."
"There's no other explanation. When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Light digested for a moment, and then said, "Are you quoting Sherlock Holmes at me?"
"Light-kun, you saw him this afternoon. Was that the Watari you know? Can you even begin to imagine how unlike it was from the Watari I know?"
"Are you sure you've exhausted all the other possible explanations? Brain cancer seems like quite a leap."
"What else could it be?"
"Maybe it's a trick. Maybe he's trying to get on my good side so he can sneak up on me and kill me the second you're not looking."
"That would be possible, if not for what just happened."
L's voice tremored, and Light sighed. "Is this going to be another long story? Not that I didn't very much appreciate hearing about your nightmares, but I don't want you to emotionally exhaust yourself. Maybe you should gain a little weight first."
"No, it won't be long. I simply asked Watari for forgiveness, after hearing that he had inexplicably forgiven you, and he told me not only that he forgave me, but that he had never held me responsible for A's or B's deaths."
Light was more astounded by L's actions than Watari's. "You asked for forgiveness? You?"
"What?"
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you care about forgiveness?"
"How could I not care about forgiveness?" And then L paused. "Do you not care about forgiveness?"
"Why would I care about forgiveness?"
They marveled in silence at one another.
Finally, L ventured, "Do you genuinely believe that you have never done anything wrong?"
"Morally wrong, you mean?"
"Yes."
"No."
"No, you don't believe that?"
"Yes, I do believe that."
There was a shorter silence, and then L asked, "You've never lied?"
"I don't believe that it is wrong to lie so long as it is for a greater good."
"You've never teased anyone?"
"No more than they would understand as light-hearted."
"What about when you strangled me?"
Light caught his bottom lip between his teeth, because that was the one action in his life that he—well, he didn't regret it, but, perhaps—well, he doubted it, certainly.
"You told me you were sorry."
"I did say that."
"Did you mean it?"
"Yes."
"But you don't think it was wrong."
"It perhaps wasn't the best, but it was for the best."
"What about when you pushed me out of bed? You said you were sorry for that."
"I was sorry. But I also did it because I wanted you to be alright. I wasn't trying to hurt you."
"Light-kun, do you think that good intentions justify bad behavior?"
"Good intentions create good behavior, and bad intentions create bad behavior."
"Do you genuinely believe that?"
"Of course."
"So, when I killed Charles, it was alright because I was striving for justice?"
"I—" How could Light reply to this? If he wanted L to be Kira one day, he couldn't imply that L was unfit to take his place as the God of the New World.
"When a parent abuses their child, is it alright because they have told themselves that they are providing discipline? When a robber steals the money out of a cash register, is it alright because they are trying to provide for their family? When a man rapes his wife, is it alright because he is expressing his love however he sees fit?"
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because those people are wrong."
"Why are they wrong?"
"Because they're idiots."
The room was filled with stunned silence.
"Look, L—"
"You don't genuinely believe that, do you?"
"Believe what?"
"That you're better than everyone else because you're smarter than them?"
"Don't you believe that?"
"Of course not."
Somehow, Light had miscalculated terribly. For the first time, he doubted whether it would ever be possible for L to become Kira.
"Light-kun, anyone can excuse any actions given the opportunity. There is no action that cannot be justified in some way. But an excuse and a justification do not mitigate the hurt that actions cause to real human beings. You do not accept the excuses or justifications of anyone other than yourself, and that is where your true hypocrisy lies. Your intellect does not set you apart from those around you. You are not a god. You have done terrible things, more terrible things than you perhaps could bear to realize, and you need to be forgiven. It is extraordinary that Watari could forgive you. I do not know if I quite yet can."
The microphone cut off.
Light was still, L's words seeming to have hit some sort of barrier between his ears and his heart, sliding slowly to the ground before they could absorb in any sort of meaningful way. For the most part, Light was bemused, impatient, and not terribly concerned by anything L had said. But there was also a part of him that wondered what would happen if the barrier came down, if he allowed himself to seriously consider the possibility that he was—
Impossible. He was the God of the New World. He wasn't w—
"Yagami-kun."
It was Watari.
"Your appointment has been moved up to tomorrow. We will leave after breakfast. Try to get some sleep. L will do the same."
On the way to the oncologist, Light was not kissed on the wrists, forehead, or mouth, and Watari was the one to buckle him into his seat in the limo, and L presumably sat in the front passenger seat—presumably because he did not say a word the whole way there.
The oncologist had her arms crossed over her chest. "Something has changed again. Please tell me that the thing that has changed is that you no longer want treatment."
"No, that's not it," Light said, but slowly, without conviction.
"You're just indecisive, is that it?"
Light hesitated, very aware of L and Watari flanking him on either side like bodyguards, and nodded. She was very sharp. With L tipping precariously away from ever agreeing to be Kira, he was having trouble deciding whether it would be more persuasive to lobby Kira's side from a radiated, hairless perspective, or a seizing, beautiful perspective. Neither perspective sounded particularly appealing, and neither perspective sounded particularly convincing. But one of them had to be at least slightly better than the other.
"Then perhaps it will be reassuring to hear that you no longer have reason to be indecisive. I have decided that any treatment that we pursue will not involve either surgery or chemotherapy."
In the corner of his eye, Light could see L flinch. "Well," Light said, trying to process, but not feeling any different after hearing the news, "I guess I get to keep my hair."
"Shut up," L snapped.
"Excuse you," Watari said warningly.
"Fuck your hair," L said, coldly, viciously.
"Stop this." Incredibly, Watari had reached over and grabbed L firmly by the elbow. "And apologize this instant for your language."
L shook his arm free. "Fuck you." And now speaking to the oncologist, he said, "What the hell do you mean you won't treat him?"
The oncologist was utterly unshaken. "I will treat him, but my treatment plan will not involve surgery or chemotherapy. And neither will anyone else's treatment plan, unless they are promising to return him to you as a vegetable."
"There has to be something you can do. Look at him." L stabbed a finger in Light's direction. "He's perfectly alright. He's walking and talking and being an asshole, just like always."
"He is not perfectly alright, and you know it. You have been giving him the prochlorperazine, haven't you? Think of when he refused to take it. I know there must have been at least one time recently. Look at those burst blood vessels under his eyes. That's from the vomiting. If you weren't doping him up every six hours, that's what he would be doing after almost every meal. Do you know why he's so nauseous all the time? It's because the tumor is taking up too much space, and his brain can't handle the pressure. Couldn't I just take some of the tumor out? Sure, if you want me to cut through the part of the brain that contains his personality. Then couldn't I just radiate it out, even if just to buy him more time? If he had been in here six months ago, maybe. Even at three months ago it would have been a race against the clock. But now? Absolutely not. Any radiation now would only worsen his quality of life without giving him any longer to live."
"How long?" Light's voice peeked out into the conversation, more weakly than he had wanted it to. He cleared his throat. "How much longer do I have?"
She softened. "No one can tell you exactly, and anyone who claims to be able to tell you will be lying. But I would predict one to two more good months, with infrequent seizures, and then another one to three bad months, with frequent seizures and increasing discomfort, and then no more than one very bad month, in which you will want to find somewhere safe and comfortable to stay."
"So, three to six months."
"Yes."
Light sighed, relieved. Three to six months to convince L to become Kira. It could be tight, but it would be possible. He had been worried that he would only have a month left. Six months was almost too much time at this point. Enough time for L to become Kira and then change his mind and then only perhaps change his mind back again.
L heard the sigh and whirled around to face Light. "Is this good news?" he murmured. His eyes were hard and angry. "Are you pleased that you have no more than half a year left with me?"
"Six months isn't bad. A lot can happen in six months." Light said it as a promise, and L frowned.
"This is what I wanted to discuss with you," the oncologist interjected. "Your seizures are very minor at this point. All medication could do is decrease the frequency of the seizures and perhaps delay the more serious ones, but at the cost of a whole host of possible side effects. To be perfectly honest, this kind of medication is not even very effective in the first place at treating cancer-related seizures compared to a placebo. I know you'll discover all these things the moment you begin to research them, so I'm sparing you the trouble. My suggestion is that you wait to begin taking the medication until either you seize more than once in a seven day period, or you have a motor seizure. This will give you greater freedom to accomplish whatever you are permitted to accomplish for the next few weeks, uninterrupted by any additional side effects. On this issue my recommendation is strong, but I am still willing to prescribe you medication now if you wish. Do you have an opinion on the issue now, or would you like some time to think about it?"
"I think—" Light began, but L would not let him finish.
"He should have the medication now. He shouldn't have to go through these seizures any longer than he has to. And don't some medications have possible reductive effects on tumors?"
"Not alone they don't, which is how this medication would be taken. And I assure you that the seizures are much less worse than they may seem."
"You don't know. You didn't see him."
"I've seen hundreds of patients with seizures, and, depending on the severity, the side effects and the seizures can be comparable. In this case, the seizures are not severe enough to risk the side effects. No matter how severe the seizure may have looked, it was only a simple partial seizure, and you are not the person who will need to deal with the side effects."
"Of course I am."
Firmly, with her voice raised just so, she said, "No, you are not."
In the ensuing silence, Light saw a flicker in L's eyes that gave him a cold sort of hope.
"This is perhaps a bit of a non sequitur," Light said, "but would it be possible for him"—he nodded at Watari—"to get a CT scan?"
Understandably, Watari was absolutely incredulous. "Me?"
"I got a scan when I didn't need to, and that's how they found out about the brain cancer. With all my appointments, we might as well check your brain too."
"This is completely unnecessary," Watari blustered, but then he realized how L was staring silently at the ground, and he straightened, and said, "I see. Did you put him up to this?"
L just said, "It can't hurt."
"Yes, it can."
"Well, it would be fair at least."
Watari looked like he was going to explode into a rant about pulling the fairness card, but then he took three deep breaths, kneaded at his brow, and sighed. "Alright. Can we do this right now?"
"Give me ten minutes," the oncologist said, "and I will come back to get you."
They waited in perfect silence for those perfect ten minutes, and then once Watari had left the room, Light said, "What are you doing?"
L scowled at him. "What are you doing?"
"I thought you were mad at me."
"I am mad at you. You don't regret strangling me."
It was certainly fair of him. "Then why are you acting like this?"
"Acting like what? Mad at you?"
"No, not mad at me."
"How am I acting not mad at you?"
"You're being all…protective. And concerned. And empathetic."
"So?"
"So?"
"Yes, so." And then L frowned. "I'm not going to say it over and over again just so that your ego can feel puffed up."
"Say what over and over again?"
"You know."
"No, I actually don't."
L sighed. "What you asked me yesterday right before I left."
Light thought back, taking so long that L started getting visibly impatient, and then he ventured, "You mean, whether you love me?"
"Yes."
Light gaped. "Okay, you have literally told me that you loved me like three times, and every single time it was in the middle of some convoluted sentence."
"I'm sure I've told you more often than that."
"No, you actually haven't. And you haven't said it even once all by itself."
"I'm sure I have."
"Prove it. Do it right now."
L hesitated, glaring, and then said, "I love you."
"I love you."
L's mouth flattened into a hard line.
"What?"
"I don't believe you."
"How can I make you believe me?"
"Show me."
"I—" Light swallowed. "I don't know how."
"Then I suppose we are at an impasse."
Light sighed. "Fine. I don't believe you either, just so you know."
L's eyes flashed. "What do you mean?"
"You can't say you love me and be mad at me at the same time."
L looked away and shook his head. "You really are a child."
"Hey!"
"I'm mad at you right now, which means that I don't want to kiss you right now, but I also love you, which means that I don't want you to die, and I know that I'll want to kiss you sometime in the future once I stop being mad at you."
Light was silent, processing.
L's brow creased, and then he softened, and took a half step closer. "Have you ever genuinely loved anyone in your life?"
Watari returned, and L retreated.
There was no brain cancer. Not even a sign of Alzheimer's. Watari was obscenely healthy for his age. L and Light were back to the drawing board for an explanation for his behavior.
Light chose not to take the medication for his seizures, because Ryuk still hadn't shown up with the other Death Note, and he couldn't afford to be foggy or itchy or swollen when he had the fate of the world in his hands. Hopefully he just wouldn't have a seizure in front of Ryuk, because Ryuk might never take him quite as seriously ever again.
L did not join him in the backseat on the way back, presumably because he was still angry at Light. But they didn't put up the little tinted window, so at least L hadn't gotten any angrier.
But then, about halfway through the ride, Watari quite abruptly muttered, "Dear God," and the limo began slowing to a stop. Light couldn't see anything through the opaque windows in the backseat, but he could see Watari reaching over and pointing out through the front passenger window, and L murmuring something in reply. Then the little tinted window rolled up, and Light was left completely alone for the rest of the ride.