Oh boy, oh boy. I was so good about updating for the first 12 chapters, and then I totally blew it. I'm so beyond sorry, you guys. This was an unbelievably hard ending to write, and some major experiences over the last few months has majorly majorly influenced it, and it ended up being a lot longer than expected, and it's the complete opposite of what I was planning on doing. Hopefully it'll be surprising to you guys, because it was surprising to me! You also get two chapters rather than one, so there's that. :) Thank you so much to everyone who sent me support and encouragement!
There was a question about how I think Lawliet should be pronounced. Obviously this is a contentious issue, but I think, because Lawliet with Japanese pronunciation is Rōraito (ローライト), and because Light with Japanese pronunciation is Raito, that it should be pronounced law-light. Hence why Lawliet Light would be so ridiculous. ;)
There was also a question about my religious background, since it comes up so much in this fic. I am a Christian, and I'm planning on going to divinity school or seminary after my undergrad and then getting a Ph.D. and going on to be a professor in theology, hence the interest. :)
I should note that, while it's not out of the question, I can't promise that I'll be writing any more Death Note fics. I've had an absolutely amazing time writing this, but it was also pretty long, and I haven't been truly in the fandom for a while. For more of my writing, I have several other DN fics up on my account, plus a novel on Amazon.
I don't own Death Note.
It was the new year, and Light was working on a new case, and he was wearing a new sweater that he and L had bought together on their New Year's date last week. Things were—well, they weren't good, but they were better, and he was happy.
But he was also sipping up the very last bit of his coffee, which had been the very last bit of coffee in the coffee pot, and he had forgotten to ask Watari to make more. Surely the old man was floating around somewhere though. Light wasn't even totally sure what his job was now that Light didn't need supervision and there wasn't a task force working with them. He knew Watari had been looking for a new place for them all to move into in the next month, but there was only so long you could spend looking at real estate, right?
"Watari?" Light half-shouted, hoping he wouldn't have to use the emergency cell phone just to get a fresh cup of coffee. He waited a few seconds, and then tried again, a little louder this time. "Watari?"
"He's not here." It was L, rolling back into the room on his chair, propelling himself along the wall with one hand, holding a stack of paper in the other hand. "He left an hour ago."
Light frowned. "He left? When will he be back?"
L shrugged. "Another hour? Two? I don't know which church he is going to, and I don't know how long their mass lasts."
"He's just at church? It's not even an emergency?"
L rolled to a stop in the middle of the floor. "You're getting spoiled, Light-kun. Watari can go out whenever he likes, emergency or not."
"Can he really?"
"Of course. Why would you think otherwise?"
"Well, what if it's in the middle of a work day?"
"A work day?"
"Yeah. I mean, he works for you, doesn't he?"
L frowned. "Watari? Work for me?"
"Doesn't he?"
"Of course not. What would give you that idea?"
"Um, I don't know, maybe the fact that he's around all the time and he helps you and feeds you and finds you cases and does all the things an employee would do?"
L thought hard, scooting himself forward on the chair, centimeter by centimeter. "I hadn't realized that was the impression you had of our relationship. Do you think the others thought that as well?"
"Are you saying you're the one who works for him?"
"Light, you don't understand. Watari adopted me."
Light was quiet for a long time, and then he said, "But you're twenty five."
"Yes, and I've been working on cases like this with him since I was nine."
Dear God. Light was eighteen and he still sometimes had trouble working on cases like this. He knew that the name L had been around for a while, but he hadn't connected the dots to recognize how young L must have been when he started, or even that that L had been this L the whole time.
L continued, "Watari…acquired me from my previous adopted mother, under rather questionable circumstances, and he effectively, though not legally, adopted me."
"So when Watari talks about you as his son, he really means it."
"Yes, of course."
"And when he talks about me as his son?"
"Yes, he really means it. Son-in-law, son and brother in Christ, all those things."
Light's eyebrows flew up. "Son-in-law?"
L shrugged, his mouth quirking warmly. "Son-not-in-law then."
"Hm."
"Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out on your own. All the pieces were there. I even told you I was an orphan a couple weeks ago."
"I try not to speculate too much about your past, because I figure you'll tell me when you're ready. Besides, I don't like thinking about you like you're a puzzle. It makes me feel like Kira."
L startled. "You remember what it felt like to think like Kira?"
Light shook his head. "Not at all. But Kira was me, so Kira had to think like I would, at my best and at my worst."
"Hm. This work that you're doing, puzzling out these cases… Is this making you feel like Kira?"
"Oh, not at all. Kira would never do this. This makes me feel like you."
L's brow crumpled, concerned, and for the first few seconds Light couldn't figure out why.
Then he added, "That means this makes me feel good."
Ah, there was a smile. "Really?"
"Mhm."
L beamed at that, and finished scooting over to his desk to get back to work. And maybe it was because his self-confidence had been boosted that he was daring enough to then ask something so inconceivable: "Light-kun, did it bother you that we didn't go to a temple for the new year?"
"Hm?"
"A Buddhist temple, to celebrate the new year. Did it bother you that we didn't go? I didn't even ask if you wanted to go."
"L, you know I'm not religious."
L hummed, noncommittally.
"What?"
"You're allowed to change your mind. Many people do, in either direction, eventually."
Light snorted. "I'm not going to change my mind just because I'm dying."
"I'm not suggesting that you should, and I'm not suggesting that it would be because you're dying. I'm just saying, try and tell me that you still believe that there is no supernatural aspect to our world after meeting a shinigami first hand."
"Try and show me any world religion that has predicted the existence of the kind of shinigami that we saw."
"Plenty of world religions posit the existence of spirits, evil or otherwise."
"So, maybe one of them is right, and maybe none of them are right. This changes nothing. I don't understand why you're so insistent about this."
L didn't have to be silent for very long for Light to realize that he was missing something.
"L, did it bother you that we didn't go to a Buddhist temple to celebrate the new year?"
Very slowly, L said, "I don't know. I think I would have liked to have done something."
"Something?"
"Something…religious. I think I would have liked that."
Light sighed louder than he had intended.
"What?"
"L, if this is because I'm dying—"
"Don't be so egocentric. Most things are about you nowadays, but not everything."
L had snapped, which meant that this was important to him. Light did not sigh at all this time. Instead, he remained silent, and turned back to his work.
L had come to bed late, when Light had already been drifting off, and now by the time Light was creaking out of bed, shivering off a nightmare, L was already showered, dressed, and sitting on the balcony.
"Hey," Light murmured, kissing the top of his head, then moving to take a seat on the bench beside him.
"Mm," L hummed amenably, his gaze not slipping away from the skyline. He looked quiet and reflective, but not upset. There was even a cup of coffee in his hand that looked more like coffee than milk.
"Hm?" Light asked, and L relaxed his grip just enough for Light to take the coffee for a sip. "Hm," he grimaced, but not with as much feeling as usual. This might have been the first time all the sugar had had the chance to actually dissolve. "Well." He handed the coffee back.
L smiled. "Thanks." And he leaned his head on Light's shoulder and Light slung his arm around him. They sat in quiet silence for several minutes, and then L said. "My dream changed."
Light arched a brow. "Hm?"
"You remember it, don't you? I mean, this wasn't one of the memories you lost, was it?"
Light had to think hard, but eventually he said, slowly, "Yes, I remember. But I don't know why you told me, or how I responded to it."
"Do you remember how the dream always ends?"
"Yes." L was waiting expectantly, and Light sighed. He didn't like thinking about what L had to deal with every night, much less relating it. "You've been shot—or, rather Charles has shot himself, but you're the one bleeding. You ask Watari for help, but he walks away instead, and then you wake up."
"As usual, Light-kun, you're forgetting the most important part."
"As usual?"
"Before Watari walks away, he looks straight at me and he asks me, 'L, what have I taught you about justice?' And then I let myself bleed out, and then I hear but do not see Watari walking away, and then I wake up."
"Alright. So, what changed?"
"I didn't wake up. The dream kept going."
"Hm."
"I heard Watari's footsteps, but then I saw that he wasn't walking away at all. He was walking towards me. And he knelt down beside me, and he put his hand softly on my head, and he said, 'L, that is not the right answer at all. If that is what I taught you about justice, then I was wrong.' And then I woke up."
Light breathed out heavily. "Wow. I can't say that's too big of a change, but it is a slightly better ending, I suppose. Do you still die in the dream?"
L shrugged.
"What do you think it means?"
L shrugged, and he drank from his coffee cup.
"Well, it obviously means something, if this is anything to go by."
L didn't play dumb. He knew that something was different as well.
Light seized again. This was significant for two reasons. First, it happened while he was in the shower, which hadn't ever happened before. Second, he had already seized yesterday.
"Shit," he wept, once the seizure had ended. He had managed to crawl out of the shower, so he wouldn't have accidentally fallen and drowned, and now he was on his hands and knees and face, weeping into the bathroom tiles.
Having a seizure more than once in a seven day period. That was what the oncologist said would mark the beginning of the bad months. He had been able to have two full good months, but this had crept up on him suddenly. God, he wouldn't be having a seizure every day now, would he? He couldn't breathe with the fear.
L didn't hear. The shower was still on.
But L was paying attention, and he got nervous before too long. Light took long showers sometimes, but this was getting ridiculous. He knocked on the door, while Light was still curled up on the floor, naked, tears drying. "Light-kun?" he called. His voice was high, tight, afraid. At least Light wasn't the only one. "Are you alright?"
Light didn't reply, and L opened the unlocked door.
He rushed to Light first, to check that he was breathing and conscious, and then sighed, and kiss kiss kissed the top of his wet shampoo-y head. He turned the shower off.
"We have to go to the oncologist," Light said.
L didn't say a word, and Light knew that he understood. He almost started crying again with the relief that he wouldn't have to explain himself.
"Goddammit," the oncologist said when she walked in, and she walked right back out.
When she came back, there was no sign that she had been upset, but for the faint indents in her forehead from her fingernails. She folded her arms over her chest, shook her head, and said, quietly, "I apologize for being unprofessional. I reacted the way I did because you want to live. This is the first time, in all the time that I've seen you, that you've wanted to live, not just for a few extra months, but forever. But the reason that you've come in is so that I can help you die, as comfortably as possible."
L stiffened, visibly, almost shaking.
"Well," Light sighed, nervous, tugging at a stray thread on his sweater, "at least I'm not suicidal anymore."
She hummed. "There is that. Speaking of which, any advice for my patients who still are?"
Light sobered, and considered it seriously. "Have seizures," he finally said. "Do philosophy—good philosophy, none of this nihilism shit. Be loved."
She nodded, taking the advice with exactly the same dose of seriousness. "Thank you." Her mouth compressed briefly. "So, I was right. You do want to live, for good."
"If treatment had any chance of working," he said, "I would do it."
"Even at the expense of your hair?" L murmured. He was biting deeply into his thumb, and not looking at anyone.
"Yes, of course," Light said. "Even at the expense of my intellect, really."
L flinched, and pulled his thumb out from between his teeth. Blood was welling around the cuticle. His eyes met Light's. "Marry me," he said. "Will you marry me, please?"
"Good Lord," Watari said, fondly.
"Finally," the oncologist said, and her voice broke.
While Watari picked up Light's prescription, they sat in the back corner of a café and ordered coffees for lunch.
"Let me get this straight," Light said, wrapping his hands around his cup, trying his very hardest to not freak out. "You want to marry me, in a country where we cannot get married, when I am not an adult, even though I will only be alive for another two to four months?"
L emptied another creamer into his coffee, and said, "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I love you," L said, "and because it seems like the right thing to do."
"Right according to who?"
L frowned briefly, and said, slowly, "Right according to me, I suppose."
"That's not true. Not once have you ever suggested thinking anything like that."
"We're sleeping together, and we love each other," L said. "Why not?"
"Because it won't change anything. Besides, there's no way you're going to be able to handle wearing a ring. Some days you can't even handle wearing pajamas."
The ring thing was a legitimate concern, and L knew it. He frowned again. "I'll wear it on a necklace."
"No, you won't."
"I'll get it tattooed on my finger."
Light smirked. "I might as well just wear both of them."
L lit up. "Is that a yes?"
"It won't change anything," Light insisted, leaning in. "Why can't this be enough?"
"Because, I want it."
"You want to be a widower at twenty-five?"
"If I have to be anyone's widower, I want to be yours."
"Won't this make it harder to—well, you know, find someone else, afterwards?"
L made a face at that. "I'd rather be a monk than be with anyone else."
They were slipping into teasing one another, but this was serious enough that Light reached over to take L's hand. "You're allowed to be with someone else, you know," Light murmured. "I would rather you be with someone else than be alone."
"Alone, or single?"
Light considered, and said, "Alone. There's nothing wrong with being single. But, if you fell in love, I wouldn't want to keep you two apart."
L was biting hard at his lip, upset by the very idea, and Light leaned over the table and kissed him, to make him stop.
"Please, Light-kun," L said, when they parted, holding tight to his hands. "Marry me. I've been thinking about these things a lot lately, how to love you the best. And I think I've found someone who gives good advice, and I want to listen to him."
Light startled at someone secretly giving L advice. "It's not Watari, is it?"
"No, it's not."
"Will you tell me who it is?"
"Not right now, but one day, I promise."
L leaned forward, seeking, and Light kissed him, long and slow.
"Please," L said, resting their foreheads together. "Will you marry me?"
And Light breathed, and breathed, and said, "Yes."
They were going to England for the ceremony. L didn't care about it being legal. He just wanted it to be in his hometown, and he wanted Watari to be there.
Light had been taking levetiracetam for the past week, and it was a relief to know that it was helping. He had only had two seizures in the past week, and the side effects were just drowsiness and occasional faintness, which he could live with. The drowsiness was actually a bit convenient, because it usually hit at night when he was about to go to bed anyways. Usually this would have been incredibly inconvenient, because night was when he and L had their private time together. However, as it was, L had inexplicably decided that he wanted to stop having sex until they were married. It was easily one of the most ridiculous things Light had ever heard come out of L's mouth, but he really was pretty tired by the end of the day, and L wasn't opposed to doing all sorts of other things that were almost as good. So he was alright with waiting. Besides, it was making him look forward to it more, and it meant that there was something truly wonderful waiting for him on the other side of this twenty hour flight.
Light didn't realize quite what a gift was waiting for him.
They weren't just going to L's hometown. They were going to his home. They pulled up to a crumbling English mansion surrounded by wrought iron gates, the car windows streaming with rain, and Light sat up straight, jolting L, who was resting with his head on Light's shoulder, and said, shocked, "Is this—?"
And L rubbed at his eyes, squinted out the windows, and said, "Oh. Yes, it is." And he laid his head back down on Light's shoulder, stiffer than before.
"Don't worry about the bags," Watari said, pulling the car around to the back of the mansion, where a garage door was opening. "I'll show you kids your room."
"No, I want to help," L said quietly. "Thank you for driving us, Watari."
Watari was audibly surprised. "Why, you're welcome. If you want to help, that would be very much appreciated."
L hummed.
The garage door closed, sealing out the rain, and they headed inside. It was strikingly similar to a hotel suite, consisting of a small kitchen, a living room, and two bedrooms with a bathroom each. Light headed for the bedroom on the right, starting to open the door, but L said, "The other one is mine, Light-kun." Only when Light was already at the other door did L correct, "Our room." The delay in the correction was well-warranted. The first room was very much Watari's, and the second was very much L's. It was only now that Light realized that the elaborate "L" and "W" designs and the tea sets and the formality of Watari's suits were not based on L's preferences, but Watari's. The right room, Watari's, had elaborate sheets and a massive rug and dark, sturdy furniture and paintings on the walls, whereas the left room, L's, had pale blue sheets and a single nightstand. Light was reminded that neither of them worked for the other, and decisions about housing arrangements had to be made with actual dialogue and disagreements and compromise.
They were all tired and disoriented and jetlagged, so they went straight to bed, and L and Light curled up under the covers in just their underwear. Light thought for a moment about protesting that L at least put on some pants if he was so insistent about not sleeping together, but then he remembered how tired and faint he was, and he also remembered how cuddly L became with the addition of pajamas, and he decided that just the underwear was alright after all.
They held hands and tried to stare lovingly into each other's eyes, but their drooping eyelids kept getting in the way.
"Light-kun," L said, when Light had started drifting off.
Light's eyes fluttered open. "Hm?"
"Are you sure you want to marry me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you want to get married, and because I love you."
L started. "You've only said that to me one other time."
Light frowned, sure it wasn't true. "That I love you?"
"No, because you love me."
Light arched a brow. "That's a very specific thing to remember."
"It's because you said it at a very important time. When I told you about my dreams, you told me about shinigami eyes, and when I asked why you would tell me so much, you said it was because you loved me."
Light frowned again, again quite unsure. "What are shinigami eyes?"
"Ohh. Of course you wouldn't remember." L briefed him, finishing with Light's hypothesis that B had shinigami eyes.
"Hm."
They were silent for a long time, and then L said, very quietly, "Light?"
"Hm?"
"Do you think that B having shinigami eyes was similar to possessing a Death Note?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, the torment." Light didn't even get the chance to frown before L was explaining. "You knew this, once, but Ryuk was the one who told me. When he was still trying to convince me to become Kira with you, I—well—just out of curiosity, mind you—I asked what the price was for using the Death Note. And he laughed and said that you had asked the same thing, and that he would tell me the same thing that he told you, that the price is the terror and torment that only humans who have used it will experience."
Finally, Light was following. "You're wondering whether the torment caused the suicide attempt."
"Mhm," L said, but there was more.
"You're wondering whether this means that you aren't at fault for his suicide attempt."
Courageously, L did not drop eye contact. He nodded.
Light considered it, seriously, and spoke, slowly. "I think that it's quite likely that the torment was responsible for the suicide attempt. But I think that even if the torment wasn't the cause, you couldn't possibly have been responsible."
"Was Watari responsible? Not completely, of course, but could he have done something to stop it?"
"I don't know. I don't know enough about the situation to know."
Then L did not ask, but said, "Charles is still my fault," and he had brave, staring, beautiful eyes.
Light thought hard, not about the answer, but about the words. He said, "I forgive you for killing Charles."
L processed, and then replied, "I forgive you for strangling me."
Light didn't have the energy to cry, but he did anyways, without sound.
L dried the tears with his thumb. "What about A?" he whispered. "A didn't have shinigami eyes, and A really did commit suicide."
Light kissed L's hand. "Sometimes people have torment anyways." Then his mouth compressed, and he said, softer, "You know, don't you, that at the end of the day, I killed B?"
L wrote love on Light's cheek, phi-iota-lambda-epsilon-omega. "I forgive you for being Kira," he said, "so long as you forgive me for almost being Kira with you."
The wedding was a quiet thing. There were no guests, and they locked the doors to the chapel to make sure of it. For his vows, L recited 1 Corinthians 13 in Greek. Light, feeling bad for not having prepared anything, snagged a nearby Bible, and read the same verses in English. L wasn't upset with the impromptu vows, if the quality of his kiss was any indication.
Light wore L's ring in addition to his own, just as he had suggested facetiously, both of them on his left ring finger. The reception consisted of eating cake and then dinner, catered so that Watari could relax too. While Watari was finishing up his second glass of wine, L said that he had an announcement. "It's not a final decision," he said, tucked close into Light's side with his arm around his waist, "but out of courtesy to the both of you, I wanted to let you know that it was something I was considering."
"Go ahead," Watari said.
"I think," L said, "that I might want to try, rather than being a detective, finding ways to rehabilitate criminals."
Light's first thought was, well, L can do anything, but then he saw his left hand with the double wedding rings, and his second thought was, actually, hold on.
Watari spoke first. "Thank you for sharing that with us, L." He was doing a remarkable job of not looking alarmed. "I'm happy to help you pursue whatever it is you wish you apply your mind to. Perhaps you and Light can discuss this further during your honeymoon."
Now Watari was looking expectantly at Light, who managed, "Umm, yeah, we can talk about it. It could be neat."
Watari sort of winced, and reached to pour himself another glass of wine. In retrospect, it was probably not the most supportive thing he could have said. But how supportive did L expect him to be about this? It was even more ridiculous than the rush wedding, and unlike the wedding, it only got more ridiculous the more he thought about it. The three best detectives in the world all quitting simultaneously, just to help criminals live out the rest of their worthless days in comfort?
And then he realized how similar that sounded to something Kira would think, and he was so horrified that he got nauseous and nervous and quiet, and he forgot to say something to make his unsupportive response better.
Watari pushed his bottle of wine across the table, where L pulled it the rest of the way out of reach, and changed the subject. "L, do you want to see Roger at all before we leave? Or, perhaps, would you have any interest in observing some students who are highest in the running for being your successor?"
L twisted his mouth. "Oh," he said, unexpectedly dryly, "has Roger purchased a housewarming gift for the two of us? Perhaps a set of twin beds?"
Watari's expression soured. "He'll want to see you regardless. You don't even need to tell him about the wedding if you don't want to."
"Haven't you already?"
"No."
"What does he think we're doing here?"
"He doesn't know. He's giving us our space, just like I asked him to."
L leaned harder into Light's side, stiffly, not to be closer to him, but to retreat from the conversation. "Hm. We'll see. Perhaps after the honeymoon."