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. Some spoilers for Death Note: Another Note.
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The Worst Feeling Ever
Chapter 11: Darker Waters
I cannot imagine a state of affairs more delicious! But oh, for the puppy, it is indeed pernicious. He seems to like the taste of blood . . . but wait – ha ha, he is playing with me. Ripe and raw and ruthless, the puppy bites, but I will housebreak you yet. You will be more than my pet, my guest. You will be part of my canvas, my vision, my manifesto! The honor is indeed mine. Pity you showed up too late to be 12, but no matter. 18 is noble enough.
Ah, and there it is – I see that you see it now! Yes, yes, your dark eyes are conduits to my own . . . a jump and a jolt and I can feel you squirming inside me, swallowed whole, my living eucharist. It's true, it's true, die we all do, but to tell me so soon feels like a lie. Your scolding bravado is honey in my ear, yet it would do you well to let go of your fear. I have a steady hand, when I want to, and oh, oh, I want to. Be still, and know that I do, for I will be delicate with you, my pretty little prince, my prize so wise. You are wondering what I'll take. I am wondering what mistake led you to me – not mine, but yours or his. Perhaps your precious pawn will take my place when the time comes to reveal the hound's true face.
Such a pretty pretty froth at your lips, pink as punch. Do not worry, my pet. I will temper your pain, if not your temper. Such a pelt I could make of you, that thick ruff a gift to me, and no one would know . . . But the ties that bind are not unkind. Once I begin, you will see your inner beauty emerge! Stay strong, and you will see it all – you will understand, as I do, what it means to be a flower in full bloom, red and pulsing in my hands.
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Teeth and claws, and black, black wings above, he falls, its shadow cooling the ground around him, and he looks up to see its gaping, jagged maw descend to the sound of shattering crystal . . .
"Shinigami!"
It registered, after a moment, that he was clutching his bedcovers in a room well-lit by daylight. There was a boy staring at him from the foot of his bed, and his mouth felt lined in parchment. "How long was I asleep?" he croaked.
"Nearly eight hours, to my surprise and delight. You slept quite soundly until, well, now, actually."
Fisting his eyes, L fought the urge to growl. "I need –"
"Coffee." Aleister finished for him. "I know. I expect the pot I just brewed may have had some effect on your relative wakefulness, though what that might have to do with a Japanese grim reaper, I don't know." He turned back to the computer. "You didn't miss anything, by the way."
"Mph." L swung his feet out of bed, toes pressing against the cool floor as he rubbed his scalp, roughly mussing his already wild hair. Some of the feeling was returning to his right arm, with the inevitable sensation of pins and needles poking all along it, and he wondered if he'd slept the whole night curled up on that side.
"Shall I pour you a cup?"
"Mm . . . no. I'll do it." L didn't mind sleeping when he was able, not really, but he disliked wasting time he could otherwise spend working or learning. He wasn't fond of the nightmares, though they didn't happen every time he slept. What L hated was waking up – the grogginess, the gunk in his eyes, the horrible taste in his mouth, and, worst of all, the overwhelming desire to just stay asleep and never get up. It felt easier to simply stay awake than it would to fight his way to wakefulness every single morning, so he considered himself blessed rather than afflicted with insomnia.
A bug-eyed black cat loomed into his field of vision, and L jerked back, blinking. "What . . . where did you get that?" Hesitantly, he reached for the Felix the Cat mug and held it with both hands, fingertips pressed to hot porcelain.
"At the top of the closet. If you didn't bring it, it must have been left behind. And I washed it thoroughly!" Aleister said into L's widening eyes.
"Understood." L stared into the dark liquid. "Did you sweeten it?"
"Not as much as you would do, but you need the caffeine more. Drink it – then you can sugar up the next one as much as you like." Aleister walked back toward the computer.
L felt his face pulling into a pout and suppressed it with some effort. Taking a sip, he wrinkled his nose. He could cope with a burned tongue, but "You didn't sweeten it at all, did you?"
Aleister smirked at him. "I did say 'not as much' rather than how much. Just drink it down. If you want something sweet," he reached out of sight at the end of the bed, and L heard rustling, "have some of these."
A packet of cookies landed next to L. "French Crème?"
"They're quite good." Aleister continued to scan through the video feeds.
Dislodging some cookies from the packet with two fingers, L dunked the speckled, crusty disks into his black coffee and crunched away. He vaguely remembered his last conversation before succumbing to the indignity of sleep:
"I don't care if you have to do it upside down, dangling by your toes from the ceiling – you will get some sleep!" Aleister had scolded. "You look awful, and you are still human and thus in need of rest occasionally."
"You cannot force me to sleep." L had tried to stand his ground.
"I actually got a full night last night, so I am prepared to stay up, and if you do not go to sleep, I will speak, at length, about every musical starting with Rogers and Hammerstein all the way through Andrew Lloyd Weber, and I will sing every song I can recall, and in addition, I will explain plots unnecessarily, and then –"
"Why must you torture me?"
"Stop torturing yourself and get some sleep!" Aleister had glared at L, unrelenting. "We need you at your best. I will watch the feeds until morning."
And that had been that. It was a marvel to L that one person could simultaneously infuriate him and fill him with affection. I am lucky that I do not feel a sexual attraction to him as well, he thought; I might be completely incapable of clear thought otherwise.
Slurping the last of his crumbs-and-coffee sludge, L pushed off the bed to stand and took the scant few steps to the bureau where the coffeepot and its contents were waiting. He poured more of the hot liquid into the mug. Opening what ostensibly would have been a sock drawer, he extracted one of the bags of sugar and proceeded to drop several cubes in.
"I didn't find any other cups. What have you been drinking coffee from?"
L took a sip and added two more cubes. "The pot. I saw no need to have another dish to dirty, since I was the only one using it."
Aleister was shaking his head. "Honestly, without someone to look after you, you're like a caveman."
"Mm. Yes. Electric coffeepots were quite common during the Pleistocene." L rolled his eyes, tossing a few sugarcubes directly into his mouth before resealing the bag and placing it back in the drawer. Bare feet dragging the floor, he approached the window and looked out. His predicament still annoyed him, though he was trying to push past that. There is no point in allowing altered circumstances to distract me, he thought; I must adjust and proceed.
When he had spoken to Watari for the second time last evening, L was pleased to hear that his fingerprints at the Toronto police station had been successfully altered, but he had been vexed to learn that the man had already confiscated the news footage of L from the network that had aired it and prevented it from being copied or sent anywhere else. He'd told Watari that such action had been unnecessary and could draw undue attention to him, but the deed was already done. L simply had to hope that Coil wouldn't find out and pinpoint him as a result. The two detectives had never met face-to-face, and L wanted to keep it that way. Their rivalry was purely professional, and there was more to be lost than gained by revealing themselves to each other personally. At least a TV was now on its way so that L could watch the news unobserved.
"Why . . . shinigami?"
"Hm?" L turned to Aleister, who glanced up at him with bloodshot eyes. "Oh. My grandmother used to tell me stories when I was young, and one particular evening, she told me one involving the mythical Japanese death god – a creature initially mentioned in the Picture Book of a Thousand Stories from 1841, and thus not part of traditional Japanese myth, but I digress. The story she told me was not significantly more disquieting than the others she relayed to me, but unbeknownst to both of us, I was on the verge of developing a fever at the time. My illness manifested overnight and fueled some . . . rather memorable nightmares. They still occasionally recur, but they are nothing to be concerned about."
"Are you certain of that?"
"I am." L sipped his sugar-laden coffee. "Fractured dreams of mythical monsters cannot compare to the monstrous things some humans do to others."
"Fair point." Aleister's face stretched into a yawn, which he hurried to cover with the back of a hand. "I've no idea how you manage to do this on a regular basis."
On the path below, several students hurried in various directions. L found himself wishing that he really was just a regular student, able to focus on his coursework alone, but he knew that he would never be satisfied with that, even if he didn't have debts to pay or balance to strike. Soon, he'd be headed to class himself, and he would learn what was available to be learned, but his focus, as always, would be on the case.
L drained the last of his coffee. "What will you say to B?"
Aleister snorted. "Haven't worked that bit out yet. He won't come willingly, I know that much. I'm not at all surprised that he managed to be conveniently absent from the hotel last night. I'll just have to find a way to make it seem as though our joining forces with Watari was his idea."
"Hm. You've got your work cut out for you."
"I really do."
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His feet ached to be rid of his sneakers – more so than usual. Slouching along as the beaten, rubbery things capping the ends of his legs rasped over concrete, he noticed a small group tossing a Frisbee, bare feet on green grass, and felt a spike of envy. L refocused himself. He'd just finished an early supper of pie and ice cream, pockets stuffed with cookies for later, and was set on doing his own monitoring tonight. He hoped his vigilance would be rewarded with results.
"Whoa – heads up, man!"
L turned in time to see an orange blur zooming toward his face. Reacting instinctively, he dodged aside and made a last-minute grab, realizing mid-step what it was, spinning once to absorb the momentum of the object.
"Nice catch, Ezekiel!" Guy's voice boomed over the quad. "Throw it back to Ahmed!"
Following Guy's gesture, he saw the dark-haired man in a red-striped shirt wave in the distance. L briefly considered dropping the Frisbee to the ground at his feet, but he recognized that he could not afford to sow any additional ill will among the students. Recalling his observations of previous Frisbee-throwing, he gripped the plastic disk in thumb and forefinger. He took a step forward, curling his arm, and flung it. The orange blur sailed high over the grass, heading right to Ahmed but curving off at the last moment, forcing Ahmed to run after it. L frowned.
"Good one!" Guy was grinning.
"That was terrible," L replied. "I should have compensated more for the spin."
"Hey, it's no problem. Running for it is half the fun. And Ahmed could use the exercise!" Guy shouted the last sentence at his friend across the field and laughed as Ahmed flipped him off. "Why don't you join us for awhile?"
"There is nothing I would like better," L said, wishing his lie sounded more convincing, "but I must finish a paper tonight."
"Ah, you work too hard, man." Guy shook his head, dreads swinging, smile undimmed.
"I am not sure that is possible." L nodded once and turned to go.
"Catch you later!"
Shuffled steps and shuffling thoughts made the remaining journey to his dorm room seem short. Bright sun warmed him, baking his back, and a cool breeze caused his hair to tease his brow. The inside of the dorm seemed stuffy by comparison, but he paid it no mind. L wondered which of his options seemed the least insane: taking a night excursion to find the Butcher's lair, contacting authorities and announcing his involvement after all, or posing as the murderer himself to draw the real murderer out. He knew which option Watari would like the least and was tempted to choose it for that reason alone, but he was determined not to make an emotional decision. These warring ideas on what to do were still wrestling in his head when he emerged on the sixth floor to behold Aleister struggling to slide a large box down the hall.
"Why are you still here?"
"Well," Aleister straightened up, breathing hard, and turned to meet L's eye, "lovely to see you too. Mind giving me a hand with your telly?"
"But you were doing so well." L tilted his head, barely suppressing a smirk.
"Right then. I'll just leave it here for any takers, shall I?" Aleister gestured wide, palms open.
"Perhaps if we work together . . ."
"Ooh, there's a thought."
L approached the box. "If you move to the other side and lift up just a bit, I can push without it catching on the carpet as much."
"Not sure I can really lift it . . ." Aleister moved to the opposite side.
"Well, you'd only have to tilt it toward me slightly. Ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
"Now." L bent and pushed forward against the bottom half of the box as Aleister gripped the top corners on the other side and backpedaled as the box slid along. With a minimum of shoving and grunting, they managed to get it in through L's door. After a few moments catching their breaths as they stood over the box, L realized that Aleister had never answered his question.
"So why are –"
"Why is the hall carpeted but it's bare floor in here?" Still flushed from the effort, Aleister seemed affronted by the apparent discrepancy in décor.
"Higher traffic areas require greater protection from wear and tear. Now, what is the reason for your being here?"
Meeting his eyes, Aleister sighed, clouds seeming to flit over the blue of his own. "He's not been back. Based on the way the room's been left . . . I'd say your 'interception' theory has been lent some credence. There are a number of things he'd have taken with him if he was going out for more than the odd jaunt."
"Are you certain?"
"Quite. And don't give me that look – this was no part of any plan we had." Aleister scowled, looking away.
Not entirely convinced, L opted to let it go anyway. "Do you think that he might be upset with you for staying away all last evening?"
"That's just it – he would have been upset. But he'd obviously not been back to the room since I'd left. No recriminating notes, no booby traps – nothing to indicate he knew I'd been away. And leaving the room as-is to make me worry is far too subtle for him. Granted, the hotel staff made up the beds and took the trash, but everything else was left the same."
"And what was grandfather's assessment?"
"When he joined me there, he noticed some broken branches on the shrubs outside the building that indicated someone might have been peeking in at us – hazards of being on the ground floor." Aleister folded his arms. "Nothing conclusive enough at the scene to be sure of that, though we took samples just the same. We've paid through the week and rigged the hotel room with cameras and bugs just in case he, or anyone else, goes back there. I've taken some of my belongings out, but we've left our luggage and whatnot there so the room still looks occupied."
"I see."
"I'm to stay with you until we find him."
L exhaled, deflating, thumb and forefinger pinching his nose. "Wonderful."
"So good to feel welcome. Thank you so much –"
"Please don't do that."
"Do what? Feel?"
"Be angry. It is not your company that I object to, it is the danger that you are in by remaining here."
"That's rather the objection 'grandfather' has to your being here, as it happens."
L narrowed his eyes. "Of course." He glared into a ceiling corner where he knew a camera was focused on them. "Placing him in danger will not convince me to leave any sooner than your deadline."
"What are you on ab— oh." Seeming to realize who L was addressing, Aleister broke off, swallowing.
L sighed. "It appears that you and I will be working together for a bit longer, little brother."
"Think you can stand it?" The playful lilt found its way back into Aleister's voice.
"I'll manage. Though you may be clamoring to leave sooner than you think." Scanning the room for a suitable implement to open the TV box, L wondered if Beyond had intended to abandon Aleister all along, and if Aleister had truly been unaware of it.
"I'm far more stubborn than you know."
L held Aleister's gaze. "We will find him. And if he is missing or harmed as a result of encountering the Butcher . . ." he swallowed, eyes flashing, "I'll more than bring him to justice."
"Careful. Raw punishment would just put us on parity with the murderers themselves. I've no doubt we'll find him, wherever he's got to, but we should not have to subvert justice to do so."
"It is naïve to assume that justice can be done without punishment. And I did not say that I would kill the murderer. Whether B has been taken by him or not, odds are I will let the police handle the Butcher. What I meant –"
"And if the police kill him?" Aleister raised an eyebrow.
"I expect it's no worse than if he were to be executed – more expedient, actually."
"You really believe that? You think that's justice?"
"Justice occurs when people are held responsible for their actions against others, an imposed consequence to balance wrongdoing."
"No! That's not it at all!" Aleister gaped at him. "To administer justice, one must empathize with those involved in order to determine the appropriate response. One must understand why things happened the way they did and exhibit kindness, not just to the victims, but to the perpetrators as well. Justice without kindness is no justice at all! Kindness is at the very heart of justice. When people throw themselves on the mercy of the court, mercy must be there or the court is a sham!"
"I am not a part of the court system, I –"
"Well, how very convenient for you. Do me a favor, if you please, and don't use the word justice if you can't even grasp its meaning. Call it what it really is. Because justice without kindness is simply vengeance. And letting someone die when you could have prevented it, even a murderer, makes you a murderer yourself."
L broke eye contact to stare instead at the box. Numbly, he began to pry at the cardboard with his fingers. "I was wrong."
"Glad to hear you say so."
"You will not be better at this than I am."
A pall fell over the room as L worked quietly, Aleister eventually moving over to help extract the TV. They set it up on the floor, avoiding each other's eyes, not agreeing to disagree so much as agreeing not to rehash their disagreement, their silence saying more than the words that fought in their heads.
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Author's Note: I always wondered why the hell L would fall out of his chair at the mention on shinigami in canon (other than the authors merely wanting him to fall on his butt, as they said), so I gave him some grandma-storytelling-fueled nightmares. Woo backstory. And the Picture Book of a Thousand Stories does exist and appears to be the first mention in Japan of shinigami – I figured it would be a weird nitpicky detail L would know.
Before I even started this fic, I imagined L and A arguing about the nature of justice and disagreeing rather vociferously. Whether L means it or not when he says it to Naomi Misora in Another Note, I decided that he got the idea that kindness was an inherent part of justice from Aleister.
I'll stop bugging you guys about this soon, but . . . if you haven't voted in my poll yet, please go to my profile and let me know if you want this fic to stay T-rated or change to M-rated! You can tell me why you think this fic should either stay with its rating or change in a review or a message. I'll leave the poll open for a bit longer, but I will be closing it eventually as I approach the completion of the first affected chapter in question. Any feedback you can give me will be appreciated.
Thanks for reading!