Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.
Summary: L is almost 17, investigating a serial murder case near Toronto University. Undercover as a student prodigy, L will have to find a balance between education, investigation, and (ye gods) a social life. Rated T for language/nudity/gore.
The Worst Feeling Ever
Chapter 6: Spindrift
"I cannot believe that you insisted on stopping to get that awful 'garbage plate,' as they so aptly named it – you slowed our progress considerably."
"Henh, henh – it was worth it." Beyond licked his lips. "A man can't live on jam alone, you know."
"Ye gods, that nearly sounded rational. Now I know I'm delirious." Aleister stared out the side window, numbly wishing that he'd insisted on driving the first leg of the trip. It had been astounding enough that their false identification papers had served them so well thus far, but the unexpected rental car upgrade to a nice sedan had put Beyond in a chipper mood, which was itself an unbidden miracle. As much as Beyond had insisted that he could easily steal a car, Aleister had insisted right back that Watari would be expecting that. In spite of their success, he did wish they hadn't used a stolen credit card in the process, though he supposed it couldn't be helped now as they barreled down the highway.
"Nothing wrong with a little delirium, Ally-oop."
Aleister rolled his eyes. "The highly debatable nature of that statement notwithstanding, my point is that we cannot afford to sample the regional cuisine at every town along our route. We –"
"Relax! It was one stop, at the start of our trip. Starving ourselves won't get us there any faster. We've got plenty of caffeine now," Beyond gestured at the large cooling cups of coffee and the box of NoDoz between them, "so we shouldn't need to stop for awhile. Unless you have something in mind."
Recalling an earlier conversation, Aleister clenched his teeth. "We are not going to a bar."
"Aw c'mon, we've got shiny new IDs that say we're 21 – it'd be a shame not to get all the use out of them we can." Beyond waggled his eyebrows, grinning into headlights.
"This is not some schoolboy's holiday we're on!" The sharpness in his own voice took Aleister by surprise. "We're damned lucky to have gotten this far, and you know it. You might pass for as much as eighteen in a darkened room, but I bloody well wouldn't, so we've got to keep our contact with other people to a minimum. Or have you decided on a more pedestrian challenge than the one you proposed to me?"
"Keep yelling at me, and you'll be a fucking pedestrian."
"Oh, promises promises, Beyond. Don't be so predictable – it sullies my opinion of you."
"Like I care."
"You wanted me along, whatever your reasons."
"My reasons? Pity. You'd be lost without me – bored and hopeless."
Aleister exhaled sharply. "On the contrary – it is only with you that I am lost, and hopeless, though I concede that I am never bored." He glanced at Beyond, who was keeping his eyes on the road for a change. "You included me because you know that I keep you focused on the goal, and apparently I function as some semblance of a conscience for you. Not to mention the fact that I'm a fucking genius."
Beyond's cackle filled the enclosed space of the car. "I love it when you curse, Ally-oop – it's like watching a nun slide down a stripper pole."
"But enough about your mother." As his ears were assaulted by Beyond's raucous laughter again, Aleister allowed himself a smile. He already knew they were making a terrible mistake, embarking on a fool's errand. Despite this, he felt strangely thrilled to be doing something so wrong, so unlike anything he'd ever done before. Aleister hoped that they wouldn't disrupt things too much, but he knew that things would have gotten much more disrupted if Beyond had gone on without him.
"We won't stop again until we switch, after Buffalo." Beyond conceded at last.
"Fair enough." Aleister sighed. "Though it is a shame we won't have time to stop at Niagara. I'd love to see the falls up close."
"Henh, henh, henh. I've always wanted to throw a body over the falls, just to see what sort of damage that would do to it."
"Well, that's an appalling thought. Patently impossible to observe sufficiently in order to verify the results of such damage to a body in any event, considering the likelihood that it would be trapped beneath the falling water – unless you were volunteering to pitch yourself off?" Raising an eyebrow, Aleister speared Beyond with a glance.
"You're gonna regret that."
"Oh really? I doubt –" Aleister reared back, waving a hand in front of his face. "Bloody hell! Crack a window, you bastard!"
Cackling filled the car again, along with the pungent aroma, and Aleister and Beyond struggled for dominion over the automatic window controls as the teens hurtled through the night. In only a few hours, they would be at their destination, breathing the hopefully sweeter air of Toronto.
Intolerable – there was no other word for it. Although, now that he was thinking it through, there were several other words he could use. Beads of water cooled his body as he stood clenching his fists, considering how to proceed. Whoever was responsible hadn't taken his body wash, which he would have noticed in any event, but the bottle was unlikely to conceal much. He made up his mind. The intention here was obviously to shame me, L thought; therefore, I will show no shame. Grabbing his body wash in one hand, he moved the thick white curtain aside once more, sparing a glance at the spot on the shelf just outside the shower stall where his clothing and towel had been, and began his resolute walk to the exit.
He intended to contact the RA immediately to open his door for him, since his room key had been in his now-missing pants. Though L didn't care much about what others thought of him, he strongly disliked feeling vulnerable and being inconvenienced. He did nothing to suppress his anger at this, knowing that it would fit his role well, and he found that it was helpfully warming him up as he took his first steps out of the men's communal bathroom.
Voices were audible at both ends of the hall, but no one was waiting outside the door, so for a moment, L wondered if his clothing could have been taken by accident. Impossible, L thought; no one would take clothing not their own and be unaware of it. This was clearly a juvenile prank – the kind of thing Beyond might do, if he were here . . . He pushed the possibility from his mind as he strode down the hallway, steeling himself for discovery and derision.
He went over the two most expedient ways to contact the RA: taking the elevator to the ground floor and knocking on his door, or walking to the public phone on this floor and calling him. The phone was further down the hall than the elevator, but going down to entry level meant possibly sharing the ride with others and then crossing the lobby naked, possibly in front of rowdy drunkards who had the outside doors propped open as so often happened on Saturday nights. Thus, L chose to go for the phone, which was just past the kitchen at the end of the hall designated for female residents. L sighed, still gripping his body wash in one swinging hand as he passed the elevator, hoping he would get there unimpeded. As he continued along, the phone on the wall was within sight up ahead.
"Oh, no no – we are switching to soda! I – oomph!"
Of course, L thought, stepping back from the impact, light spilling onto Janine from the still-open door as she turned to face him. "I apologize for my state of undress," he said quickly. "Someone stole my clothing while I was showering."
After looking up and down while he spoke, Janine's face was redder than he'd ever seen it, and he hoped that she was not upset enough to harm him. "I . . . buh, um . . ."
"I need to contact the Resident Assistant since my keys were also stolen. Please excuse me." Not sure what else to say, he pushed past her, still intent on his goal. Water from his hair dripped down the ridge of his back, and he wondered idly if he was leaving a trail. The phone was almost within reach as he moved toward it, light from the kitchen flashing across him as he passed the open door. Behind him, further down the hall, laughter erupted, but he did not turn. Eyes narrowed, he lifted the receiver.
"Woohoo! Yeah, somebody knows how to party – check this guy out!"
The voice was vaguely familiar, but L ignored it, dialing the phone. As it rang, he stared at the wall, noticing in his peripheral vision a group of people in the kitchen pointing at him and standing. A group also seemed to be forming down the hall he'd just traversed.
"Whattaya doin', princess? Puttin' on a show for the ladies?" The voice came again, booming down the hall.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Craig," L said in response to the RA on the phone. "This is Ezekiel Penn on the sixth floor. I apologize for interrupting your evening, but my key has been stolen, and I require access to my room. Number 607."
"Oh, OK. Are you sure you didn't just lose it?"
"I am completely certain, yes."
"No problem. I'll be right up."
"Thank you." L hung up the phone and turned, displeased to see the knot of people down the hall now blocking access to his room. Ignoring the group of women clustered in the doorway of the kitchen, all of whom were staring and giggling, he moved toward the knot, squaring his shoulders, determined to move through them.
"Give him his clothes back, or I'll kick your fucking ass!"
L blinked, slowing his pace as he approached the group. That sounded very much like Janine's voice, he thought, but that did not seem like something she would say.
"Oh hey, princess! Nice of you to join us." The tall student with the spiky blond hair addressed L over the heads of several shorter students, many of whom moved aside to include L, a loose circle forming.
"So, you stole my clothing because you were confused regarding my gender?" L stared at him through narrowed eyes, remembering the student's name and noting the splotchy redness in his face. Knut's drunk, he thought; how very predictable.
"Oh, obviously, princess – you're prettier than half the girls on campus!" Knut laughed. "But you're so fucking scrawny, you'd probably break if I sneezed at you."
L resisted the urge to throw his body wash at Knut's head. "And now you're telling me that you find me pretty. What an interesting statement – particularly from a moronic sociopath with no discernable skills."
"Oooh! Look who's gettin' feisty!" Knut moved toward, grinning and clenching his meaty hands into fists. "You think you can fight me? You actually think you have a chance?"
"Naturally, your next step is to initiate some form of physical contact disguised as aggression. You must truly be desperate to take such measures, but I assure you that you are not my type."
Titters from the crowd around them seemed to incense Knut, and he bared his teeth. "You pansy-ass motherfucker, I will –"
HOOOOOONK!!
The group jumped as one and Knut clutched his right ear. Janine stepped back, and L abruptly realized that she hadn't been there moments before, let alone holding an airhorn straight-armed like a weapon.
"Leave him alone, Knut! It's not his fault you're a drunken loser who's flunking out!"
"Fuckin' bitch . . ." Knut made a grab for the airhorn, but Janine pulled back, nearly hitting Danielle behind her with her elbow. As the combative blond man stepped toward her, L dropped and spun, landing his shin in the crook of Knut's knee, buckling it and causing him to drop to the floor on hands and knees. The crowd hushed immediately, and Knut looked up, face red with rage.
L stepped back, spinning to return to his previous position, and felt his penis slap his thigh – something of which he might have been less aware had so many eyes not been on him. "Still confused about my gender?" He smirked down at Knut, whose vantage point seemed particularly unfortunate. A faint ding sounded amidst the nervous laughter of the gathered students.
"OK, break it up. Has anyone seen Ezekiel – whoa." Craig blinked twice as he entered the crowd. "What the hell is going on?"
"Apparently, Knut stole Zeke's clothes as a part of some weird mating ritual." Danielle drawled, leaning against Janine.
"I neglected to mention that my key was in my clothing, which was also stolen." L met Craig's eye, feeling calmer.
"I didn't steal anything!" Knut unsteadily regained his feet. "Search my room! I don't care! This freak's waving his dick around, and I'm gettin' blamed for some shit? This is bogus."
L sighed. "Based on that response, I'd guess he threw my belongings out of a window. Once I am clothed, I can check the periphery . . ." Blinking at sudden warmth, L looked to his left and saw that Janine was wrapping her picnic blanket around him.
"I . . . I went to get it earlier, but then all the yelling happened . . ." She quickly tucked it in around his shoulders and stepped back. "There."
"Thank you, Janine." Dipping his head once, L thought that his nudity must have been bothering her a great deal if she needed to cover him when it was clear that he would be out of her sight soon, now that the RA had arrived. The crowd seemed to be dispersing, and even Knut was moving away, back down the other end of the hall.
"C'mon Ezekiel, let's get you into your room." Craig gestured, a weary expression weighting his round face, and L fell in behind him as they walked to his door. Craig cleared his throat. "I'm gonna wanna talk to you too, Knut, so don't go far."
"Whatever." Knut didn't even look over his shoulder as he stomped down the hall, his spiky hair strangely immovable.
At L's door, Craig pulled out a ring of keys that jingled merrily as he turned one in the lock. "There ya go."
L moved past Craig, padding into his room, still clutching Janine's blanket like a shroud. "Thank you, Craig."
"No problem." Craig followed him in, pocketing his key ring. "You sure Knut's the guy who took your stuff?"
"Yes. I would put the likelihood at 93%, considering the way he approached me to gloat and essentially claim credit for his prank." L set the body wash on the bureau next to the coffeepot, keeping hold of the blanket with one hand.
"Has anything else happened between you two? Anything that might have . . . brought this on?"
"Our contact prior to this has been negligible. In fact, I cannot recall a single direct conversation with him. His actions against me were entirely unprovoked and likely the result of boredom."
Craig scratched the back of his neck under his shoulder-length curls. "You may be right, but why you?"
Continuing to stare at the RA, L kept his breathing slow and even. "Opportunity. I happened to be nearby – he happened to be drunk. It is . . . also possible that he sees me as an easy target. He called me scrawny and suggested that I was feminine, for example, so he may feel I represent some affront to his masculinity." L shrugged, keeping his role as student in mind. "My graduate focus is on genetics, rather than psychology, so I can only guess."
"OK, sure." Craig nodded, moving to leave. "I'm gonna ask you two to steer clear of each other for now – I don't wanna have to come up here to break up any fights."
"I understand. I expect that will be unnecessary."
"Good to hear." Craig nodded. "Let me know tomorrow if you can't find your key. We'll have to change your lock, and there's a fee for that."
"Of course."
The door clicked shut and L found himself fighting some indignation. Being robbed and humiliated in a pointless prank was bad enough, and possibly having to pay for a new lock added insult to injury, but L mainly resented the 'blame the victim' attitude he seemed to have gotten from Craig. No matter, L told himself; he is likely just following a script given to every Resident Assistant – after all, most altercations are a consequence of mutual ill will.
L dropped the blanket on the bed and slipped on a clean set of boxers. He was going to head right outside and find his clothing, and key – and if he did not find them, then Craig would be hearing from him well before morning. He considered possibly causing some trouble for Knut in retribution but reasoned that such action, even if he was not blamed, could draw more attention to himself, which he did not want. Ignoring the brutish undergraduate seemed like a better approach.
Hair still damp but now fully clothed, L emerged into the hallway again, his keycard for the outer door in his pocket. A smattering of voices were still audible in the hallway.
"Hey, remember when I said I didn't know what you saw in him?"
"Um, yeah . . ."
"Well, I think I just saw it. Dayum."
"Danielle!"
A distant click was followed by muffled conversation, indicating that another door had closed. L sighed and decided that Saturday nights in a dorm were not ideal for showering if the goal was relaxation. He exited his room, resigned to the prospect of rummaging in shrubbery.
Sunday had been largely uneventful, to L's relief. Most of the dorm residents from his floor seemed quietly busy or absent, which suited L just fine. The isolation had allowed him to catch up on more coursework and casework. He had walked back to the dorm from supper with Geoff, whom he was starting not to mind. The grad student had a calm, easy demeanor and was surprisingly intelligent despite his lackadaisical speaking manner. L was pleased that there seemed to be at least one student with whom he could converse without either of them feeling especially uncomfortable.
Fingering the key he'd retrieved last night, now tucked into a clean pair of jeans, L stepped into his usual perch, ready to start his night-time vigil when a knock on the door stayed his hand.
L padded over to the door and opened it. "Ah. Hello, Janine. I hope that you are not still upset with me."
"I – what?" Janine's head tilted, a crinkle in her brown forming as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Why would I be upset with you?"
"For subjecting you to an unobstructed view of my body."
"Oh. I – wow. That was, um, not your fault. I'm still mad at Knut for doing that to you. Did you find your stuff?"
"Yes. It was in a pile outside, under a window, as I had suspected it would be."
"That's good, that's good . . ." Janine looked down at her hands as her fingers tangled with each other.
"Is there something I can do for you?" L wondered if she was ready to talk about her brother's death, but cautioned himself to be patient rather than asking her outright. Nothing she has done since my last assessment has strengthened or weakened the low possibility that she is the murderer in this case, he thought, but any insight I can gain from her could help me solve it.
"It's – oh, it's not important, but, well, if you don't need my blanket anymore . . ."
"Of course. I have not yet washed it, but if you require it immediately . . ." L stepped back from the door, turning and walking to the bed where it still rested. Hearing the door click shut, he looked over his shoulder to see that Janine had entered to stand in the center of the room.
"You don't have to wash it. It's dry clean only anyway."
"I see. As you wish." L turned back to the bed and grasped a corner of the folded blanket. The sound of shifting cloth accompanied his movement, and as he faced her once more, he saw that she had moved closer to him. "Here you are," he said, proffered blanket in hand. "Thank you again for your kindness."
"You're welcome." Janine's fingers brushed his in the exchange, and he thought he detected a tremor.
"Did you want to t—"
Suddenly, she was upon him, her lips mashing against his, warm and moist. Her hand came to rest on his chest, as if for balance, and her tongue flicked lightly against his lower lip before L found himself staggering back, his own hand raised as if to ward off a blow, until the backs of his knees met the edge of his bed.
"Why did you do that?" L's eyes were wide.
"I – well, I just . . . oh boy . . ." Janine's blush overtook her again, and she clutched the blanket to her chest. Dropping her eyes from L's unbroken stare, she turned and retreated toward the door. "I'm sorry. My mistake."
"Wait!" L's own voice surprised him. "Please – I need to know why you did that."
Her eyes held a confusion that echoed his own as she returned his stare. "You . . . don't understand why I kissed you?"
"That is correct." L tried to get his breathing under control.
Janine blinked. "You're . . . you're not even kidding." She stood her ground halfway across the room. "Have you never been kissed before?"
"Hm." L lowered his hand from its defensive position and brought his thumb to his lip, gazing at the ceiling. "Depending on context . . . would such interaction with family members be considered equivalent in this matter?"
"Uh, definitely not. Or, you know, hopefully not . . ."
"Understood. In that case, I have been kissed twenty-three times, by non-family members, though only seven of those times were on the mouth. I believe that four out of those seven times were of a potentially romantic nature, but three of those four, including this time, would be considered non-consensual."
Janine's head reared back. "Buh – wait. Are you . . . are you saying I just forced you?"
"Well, it is not inaccurate to say that you did not obtain my consent." Calmer, L leveled his gaze at her, face blank.
"What the . . ." Her mouth hung slightly open.
L wasn't sure what she wanted him to say, so he tried again. "The kiss was pleasant enough, Janine. I am not angry with you, despite your presumption. I just do not understand why you would want to kiss me."
"Presump—" Janine shook her head, soft brown hair swinging, and she tilted her head back to take her turn staring at the ceiling. "Great. So you think I'm some kind of mouth-rapist, and now you're either insulting me or you're fishing for compliments?"
"I did not call you a 'mouth-rapist', and I have no interest in compliments." L was starting to feel impatient. "I simply wish to understand your motives."
"My motives."
"Yes." L continued to stare, wondering why she seemed upset and sensing that his opportunity to question her was slipping away. "Everyone has motivations, hidden or not."
"I . . . you're . . ." Brittle laughter spilled from Janine, the tone surprising him. "Wow. I should have listened to Danielle."
"What does that –"
"You pick apart everything I say!" Janine's shout rang in the room, a strand of hair falling across her still-red face. "No matter what I do – it's like . . . you treat me like I can't be trusted or something! Or like I'm some lab experiment, like something you're trying to dissect – ugh. Why are you so suspicious of everything?"
"Many situations warrant suspicion."
She exhaled sharply, shaking her head at the floor, her hair like curtains about to close. "You know what?" Janine met L's eye, steeliness back in her gaze despite the welling tears. "Forget it. I'm sorry I liked you. I'm sorry I thought you cared about me. I'm sorry I tried to kiss you. I'm sorry you can't understand something as basic and simple as human attraction, or even normal conversation!" Her knuckles paled as she gripped the blanket, still held in front of her. "But I'm not sorry that you don't like me, and I'm not sorry that I found out now before I wasted any more time on you." Uprooting her feet from the floor, she turned, moving to the door and yanking it open.
L kept silent, watching her go, not noticing until the door slammed shut behind her that his midsection was clenched and his heart rate was higher than normal. The discomfort felt odd, and he marveled that his emotions were strong enough to physically twist him up in such a way. This is for the best, he thought, pressing a palm against his tense belly. As much as I might have valued what insights I could have gained from questioning her, a romantic attachment, however improbable, would cause more harm than good at this juncture. If nothing else, it would certainly have skewed my focus, and I cannot afford that.
Returning to the perch he'd meant to take earlier, L started the program and began to watch. The ritual calmed him. As he scanned the feeds, L ran his tongue over his lip, wishing he could taste some evidence of her having been there.
Author's Note: And here it is – further proof that I am evil. ^_^
In case you're wondering, no, L's not doing capoeira yet. His self defense techniques largely stem from the judo and tai chi training I referenced earlier in this fic. I figured he'd improvise and combine techniques where needed, also applying his knowledge of biology/anatomy and physics.
The garbage plate is a real thing, btw – look it up on wiki or google it if you doubt me. It's frequently consumed post-alcohol binge, and it can probably stop your heart from the fat content alone, but if you're in Rochester, NY, give it a try. There's, uh, no vegetarian version though. And I know lots of folks have Beyond subsisting exclusively on jam since he consumes only that and coffee in front of Misora in Another Note, but I figure he was actively impersonating L then (not to fool her so much as send a message to L), so there's no reason why he wouldn't eat other things when he wasn't impersonating him.
I'll update as soon as I can, though there may be a slight delay as I make sure all my plot points connect without violating characterization. Thanks for reading!