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 M for language/nudity/sex/gore. Some spoilers for Death Note: Another Note.

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The Worst Feeling Ever

Chapter 17: Venturi Effect

Following a bomb blast, it would not be uncommon for a person to temporarily lose hearing, or vision, or to experience head trauma, assuming the person survived the explosion. Despite the non-incendiary nature of the detonation that L had just experienced, he felt somehow that his brain had not escaped unscathed. Response to stimuli indeed, he thought, absently chewing his thumb. Redressed in the clothes he'd allowed to be removed earlier, L crouched at the end of his still-mussed bed next to a nearly empty bag of Swedish Berries candy, staring at the glow from his computer monitor. His movements felt slow, as did his thoughts, as though biochemical euphoria had transformed his body to a leaden lump. The sensations of intercourse are surprisingly more intense than that of masturbation, L thought, unless I have been masturbating incorrectly. A single example of intercourse is not statistically significant, of course, but given these aftereffects, it would be unwise of me to experiment frequently in order to make a better comparison. The effects are much too distracting.

When she had arrived, L had rationalized hearing Danielle out as necessary to investigate her – until his physical responses had overwhelmed his judgment. He had expended 42 minutes on her visit, which was far more than he had intended, and it annoyed him that he was still recovering. It does not help that her scent is still on me, he thought, but I will not make the mistake of showering on a Saturday again. Though her behavior in visiting me was suspicious, her reactions seemed genuine. I may need to watch her more closely from now on. Realizing that he was still viewing the same camera feed he had been two minutes ago, L clicked to scroll to the next one with an irritated huff and tossed another chewy red candy into his mouth.

Many students were at the dance, primarily the junior and senior undergraduates, so the distribution of foot traffic was different from most Saturday nights – there was a greater density of people close to Trinity Hall and a reduced one elsewhere. L considered it more likely that a body part drop, if one did occur as he expected, would be located in one of the more deserted areas of campus, but L recognized the possibility that the Butcher might do the counter-intuitive thing and target a more populated area. It is all a matter of how much he is willing to risk, L thought, and he does want his drops found. He scrolled over to the feed closest to Trinity Hall and paused, watching well-dressed students mill around near the double-doors of the entrance, some of them smoking, honeyed light spilling from ballroom windows onto the circular cobbled promenade.

A flash of green satin caught his eye, but after leaning toward the screen to stare intently, L saw that it wasn't Janine. Ready to switch to the next feed, he found himself suddenly yawning. That settles it, he thought, the sugar isn't enough – I need more coffee. L pivoted, about to step down, when he stopped himself, eyes drawn back to the screen. The unknown student in the green dress was pointing, mouth open as though she was yelling something. Other students moved toward her, and a few passed her, heading in the direction of her finger. A tall student in a light grey suit stopped a few meters beyond her and turned, waving his arms and gesturing for people to step back. A shorter student in a dark suit and bowtie next to him took out a cellphone and seemed to dial it as other students huddled together at the edge of the cobbled circle.

Swiftly, L reached under the bed, grabbing his phone and dialing.

"Yes?"

"Wa – grandfather, I believe a body part has been discovered in the vicinity of Trinity Hall."

"Are you certain? Did you witness the drop?"

"I did not, as you likely know, but I am 63% certain." L continued to stare at the screen, observing the increasing agitation among the gathering of students. "Make that 78%."

"I . . . see. Should I place an anonymous call to –"

"I do not believe that will be necessary. I saw a student making a call from that location a moment ago. Did you notice any unusual activity in the areas near the Administrative Building?"

"No, I didn't. Student activity appears to be light elsewhere on campus tonight. The few people I saw traversing the areas I've been observing were not behaving suspiciously and did not resemble our composite picture of the man from the first drop you witnessed."

"Hm. Did . . . he see anything?"

"Actually, he's right – hold on."

L waited, trying to listen to the hushed conversation over the line as he watched a crowd gather onscreen.

Watari sighed into the phone. "It appears that there has been more than one drop."

"There is a second one?"

"Second, and third."

L felt like his eyes were vibrating. "Am I to understand that this just happened?"

"That is my impression, yes."

"Put him on."

Rustling sounds preceded the voice. "I can't tell what both of them are, but they weren't there a moment ago, and I haven't seen anyone walk past where they're located."

"Yet you are certain that these are body parts?"

"I am." Aleister's tone was firm, if a bit breathless. "The blood was a bit of a giveaway on the one, and the other is obviously . . . well, it looks like a ribcage, stripped to the bone. It stands out in the moonlight."

"So, on an evening when all three of us were keeping watch, we managed to miss each of three drops by the Butcher." L rubbed his face with one hand.

"It seems some of us were watching a bit more closely than others," Aleister quipped.

L's hand froze on his face. With some effort, he pushed several thoughts from his mind. He swallowed, dropping his hand to his side. "I am not admonishing you," he said in a low voice, keeping his breathing steady. "You are certain that no one has discovered the drops since you noticed them?"

"Not as far as I can tell."

"Alright. Put grandfather back on."

"Whatever you may think –"

"Please."

More rustling followed before the older man spoke. "How would you like to proceed?"

"First, access the remote computer, scan the recordings for the three drop locations, and save any useful images. Then place an anonymous call to the police regarding the as-yet undiscovered drops. We need not let the Butcher select his discoverer-victims at this point. I –" L stopped, mouth open, watching a man onscreen in a dark hoodie waving a gun around, the crowd of students backing away from him on the promenade. Is that . . . L's thought dissipated.

"What is it?"

"Officer Maulty is at the scene, behaving erratically." L watched as the officer swung around, aiming his gun into the darkness away from the Hall. "I believe I am due for a walk."

"That is inadvisable. In fact, I have to insist that you –"

"I'm afraid caution has not served me well during my time here." L interrupted. "Belay your call to the police for now, and keep an eye on all of the camera feeds." L's eyes followed Maulty's grey form as it slipped away from the ballroom lights, blending into the darkness between trees. "It is time for the hunter to become the hunted."

There was a long pause before Watari responded. "Please at least exercise some stealth."

"Of course." L stepped off the bed, tucking his feet into sneakers. "Oh, and if you do not hear from me within two hours, please tell the police to arrest Janine Noh and Danielle Thompson."

"Any particular reason?"

"Either they are both accomplices of the Butcher, or . . . the accomplice is Danielle, and Janine herself is the Butcher."

"I see. And you are certain of this?"

"The likelihood of my theory being correct is hovering right around 17%, but that percentage will go up markedly if I am intercepted. The timing of my distraction by Danielle is too convenient, and Janine's placement at the dance, while giving her the appearance of an alibi, would also allow her the opportunity to execute a drop there surreptitiously. It is possible that the other two may have been rigged – I expect the archival footage will show if that is what occurred. I have other theories, of course, but if you do not hear from me within the timeframe I specified, this is the one I would like you to focus on."

"Very well. I expect Aleister can fill me in on the nature of this distraction?"

"I am shocked that he has not done so already." L's tone was dry. "I will contact you as soon as I am able."

"Understood."

L ended the call, dropping the phone in his pocket. Stretching across the end of the bed, L reached into the candy bag with his fingertips, extracting several sweets which he plopped into his upturned mouth. He wasn't certain which of his hypotheses deserved the most scrutiny, but keeping Watari's focus on Janine and Danielle was in his interest for now. Maulty's appearance was simply too timely, he thought, and I cannot rule out the possibility that he is the Butcher either. 22% for him. If Watari knew I believed that, he would try to persuade me not to follow him, and I do not have time to explain myself – Maulty has too much of a headstart as it is. Shutting down the computer, L grabbed some items from his desk and rushed for the door, no longer needing coffee as adrenaline made the blood sing in his veins. Whatever path the officer may have taken, L had a pretty good idea of his destination.

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Oh fragile thing, I had such high hopes for you – more than mere puppy or pet, you could have been Ishmael to my Ahab. If only my pet had brought me better tools . . . No strength to squirm, your muscles confirm what your mind cannot give voice to. Your glistening brow, your sallow skin, your bulging eyes – how they roll upon waking, but soon, soon, you will wake no more. I would have let you recline, supine, divine, until you were fully spent, but I confess I need the space, and you do not pay rent.

Did you hear him? He snuffled his way in, his façade so thin, but I did not let him glimpse my precious prizes. He still thinks he's in control, how droll. Ah, the hound – he does not yet suspect he is my whale! I wonder which chosen scribe will try to retell his tale. No greater master than me will mark his fate, no greater truth will be his to elucidate. He would have loved to get his meaty hands on you. It's why I kept you secret. The hound will bay over his losses one day, sadder still that he did not defeat you, or truly know you, as I have.

Perhaps he will come back, and see us here, trembling and bent, smeared with sticky ink already drying. I will tuck you in, dear one – no need to spoil the surprise as my spoils spoil. There, there . . . there now. A lower pancake in the stack, you shall not want for syrup. We are all draped in flesh, so you may consider this a boon, one final windfall. I must attend my other prize, so much less wise, but she is the lever I must press for success. No tears now, sweet puppy. I will miss our conversations, and oh, I won't forget you, but look here and above, for I have given you more bones than you can bury. Truly a puppy's paradise, here in the fiery gaze of the beast that waits for you to be ready and longs to lick you clean.

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For as much as he'd wanted to enter it, the damp darkness was still off-putting, though he strove to ignore the sensation as he submersed himself into the aperture. If I did not need a shower earlier, he thought, I certainly will now.

Gripping cold rungs in rubber-gloved hands, L felt one sneakered foot meet ground and stepped down, relieved to have completed his climb. No one had been near the cafeteria when he'd approached, stealthily as promised, and circled around to breach the subterranean entrance. The tape seal and fishing line he'd rigged to the cover had been broken. I wonder who I will find first, L thought, Maulty, or perhaps an accomplice . . .

L stood still, listening. Fingering a Swiss Army knife and mini-flashlight in one pocket and his cellphone in the other, he recalled the correspondence he'd read earlier. Based on the information from the Planning Commission, this is obviously the abandoned train tunnel, he thought, though there were no tunnel designs in the file. He heard dripping and rustling. The air was cool and fetid with no discernable breeze. The echoing of the ambient noise around him indicated that L was standing near the top of a T-intersection. If he could have split off two selves so that he could proceed in each of the three directions simultaneously, he would have done so, but that was impossible, and with Watari and Aleister occupied with other tasks and too far away in any event, he had to choose. Picturing the campus layout above him, L noted that one leg of the tunnel would lead toward the Administrative Building, one would lead toward the campus power plant, and one would lead toward the hospital. After mulling over whether his choice was too obvious, L nonetheless turned left and headed in the direction of the hospital.

Stubbing his toe a few minutes along was all he needed to convince him to use his flashlight. L supposed that his echoing shuffle had likely already alerted any observer to his presence, but using a light felt like conceding defeat. Sighing, he clicked it on and continued. If Maulty is the Butcher, he thought, then his tailing me could have been an attempt to cover for some of his on-campus activities – if he was caught near evidence, he could have 'confessed' that he was conducting his own investigation and found it while following me, which could throw their suspicions off. However . . . L brought his gloved thumb to his lip before recoiling at the taste and dropping his hand to his side. Putting that amount of time into a cover plan seems unlikely for a man as impatient as he seems to be, and too clever, not to mention the fact that the body part drops predate his tailing me by approximately three months, which would have required an alternate cover story for that duration. L frowned. The more I think about this, the less likely it seems that Maulty is the Butcher. 8% now. The more likely scenario here is that he followed the Butcher, or an accomplice, from the scene of the drop near the dance. If that is what has occurred . . . it will be extremely gratifying for him to concede that he was wrong about me, L thought, sweeping the tunnel with the pinpoint of light, but I cannot depend on serendipity for the solution to this case.

He was able to move more quickly now that he could see where to step. The large tunnel was mostly dry, its sides rounded, with assorted detritus strewn about the floor. L managed to glimpse one rat scurrying along but knew by the sounds that there were more. He kept the beam low, scanning for evidence while maintaining a quick pace. Could Janine really be the Butcher? L wondered, his gut twisting. He went over the details in his head again. There were several times when he knew she could not have made the drops, but he had not yet fully examined Danielle's schedule. As long as one of them was available, he thought, it is possible. L frowned, thinking of Janine's reactions at the blood drop. If she truly is involved, either as an accomplice or as the murderer herself, then she is an incredibly gifted actress. He continued to shuffle forward, considering what connections any of them could have to Coil's past cases.

Greys and browns were all that seemed to show in his flashlight's narrow glare, until a flash of red caught his eye. Bringing the beam to bear, L stared. A bright arc of what looked like blood adorned a swath of the tunnel beside him. Moving closer, he could see that it was still wet, driplines trickling down. It smells like blood as well, L thought, reaching for a paper towel in his back pocket. He daubed gently at the mess before folding the towel and re-pocketing it. I wonder which body part this will match. Stepping back, he flicked the light beam downward and regarded the blood pool he'd been standing in with distaste.

L swept the flashlight's beam over the entire section of tunnel in which he stood. By his estimation of the duration and direction of his walk, he was close to or possibly underneath the hospital. There was no body present in the tunnel, and L did not see anything resembling a body part, just the arc of blood with a pool and a trail leading away. This is clearly arterial spray, L thought, staring at the wall again, and I do not see any nicks or holes to indicate gunshots, nor do I smell cordite . . . L warped his lip with his thumb, ignoring the taste of rubber. Based on the pattern alone, I would say that this is the result of a wound made with a bladed weapon, most likely a knife, though possibly a sword. Pointing the light down, he traced the messy trail of drag marks to where they stopped a few meters away – at the base of a ladder much like the one he'd descended.

Slipping his phone from his pocket, L prepared to dial, only to find that there was no signal. Of course, L thought, pocketing it again, why would it work when I need it. Sighing, he walked to the ladder, dragging his feet as he went to make his shoeprints less distinguishable next to the trail. L popped the flashlight's end in his mouth and started climbing.

Some of the rungs slipped in L's grasp, and he noted that this was due to the blood coating the ladder. L sighed through his nose, resigned to the fact that he had compromised more evidence. He hoped that the evidence he had yet to find would make up for the transgression. Continuing up, hand over hand until he reached the top, he saw, caught in the flashlight's beam, the cross-hatched markings of the lid above him. L extinguished the flashlight and dropped it back into his pocket, pressing up on the metal lid with his fists to peer from the darkness into grey gloom.

This could be it, L thought; this area appears to be fully enclosed. It is possible that this is where the Butcher has been operating. Setting the lid to one side with a faint clang, L stepped up and swiveled his head like a prairie dog in a hole. Dim ambient light allowed him to see that he was in a large room, of sorts. Concrete floor and walls, a raised ledge on a far wall with two industrial garage-style doors above it. To L's eye, it resembled a small loading bay, despite being walled in. A larger garage door was opposite the loading area, and next to that was a regular door from which the area's only illumination spilled. L didn't see anyone, and the floor seemed clear of debris, though the blood trail was visible as it led from the mouth of the tunnel toward the lighted corner. Climbing out, scraping his shoes on the lip of the opening, he left the cover off just in case he had to retreat back into the tunnel. Careful to move silently, L walked toward the lit door.

Hushed footsteps not quite as hushed as his own caused L to spin. He came to rest in a loose fighting stance, knees bent, the door he'd been walking toward still in his peripheral vision. The other footsteps stopped and he found himself facing something – someone – unexpected. They stared at each other.

He's actually here himself? That bastard! L thought without irony. Not that he'd ever met the man in person before, but he'd spoken with him on a few occasions and had managed to catch glimpses of him – L even had a photo of him from Brazil. Scanning head to toe, L took note of the man's attire: loose red shirt, dark blue jeans, black boots and gloves, and a messy black wig.

The man chuckled. "I have to say, I had not been expecting a child." He sounded faintly out of breath.

"Nor I an elderly fool in a wig. It seems quality minions are hard to come by."

"'Elderly'?" The man chortled indulgently. "You cut me to the quick! Yet I would say quality, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder, wouldn't you?"

"Quality is proven by action. It is nothing so trifling as beauty." L longed to grab for his phone, but he did not doubt that the man, age notwithstanding, could disarm him if he did so. Coil's brazenness in being here smacks of desperation, L thought; he might do anything.

"You have an interesting point of view, my boy. It seems such a shame we haven't the time." Coil grinned, white teeth standing out in a face like a falling soufflé. "Tell you what – I'm a sporting fellow. I'll let you have a look at my evidence before I call in the dogs. Would you say thirty seconds is enough? Or do you need the full minute?"

L narrowed his eyes. "I would be foolish to bother with any obviously fabricated evidence of yours. If I –"

"Oh yes, obviously. Because I haven't been chasing the same murderer you have, no, not at all." Coil stepped toward L, getting between him and the opening from which L had emerged. "I'll be reporting my findings shortly. If you are not observant enough to be able to discern when evidence is genuine, then you're no quality minion at all – you're a failure."

"You would stoop to goading me? I would say the failure is yours."

Coil's laugh held a bitter edge. "That reminds me. I very much enjoyed your news appearance, why, almost five weeks ago, was it not? Quite amusing – almost as much as the disappearance of every recording of it immediately after it aired. Though I am sure that there must be someone out there who was recording live broadcasts of every news story regarding the Missing Parts case." His smile seemed predatory. "Your master must not be very happy with you."

"Almost as happy as yours must be for your bumbling attempts to get mine to solve his case for him." L kept his tone calm as he fought to contain his anger. Though he was growing weary of the charade of pretending to work for himself, L reasoned that it was better to maintain a sheen of plausible deniability in the event that there were recording devices present. Where the fuck is Maulty? L wondered. Did he encounter Coil or evade him? Or did he simply go somewhere other than where I expected?

"Oh, you've done enough bumbling for both of us, I think." Coil's grin stretched wider. "But let's not quibble. Do what you wish – examine the evidence, or do not. I will wait a full minute after exiting before I contact the authorities."

"And why would I let you leave?"

"Mon dieu, threats! From a mere wisp of a boy!" Coil laughed heartily, shaking his head. "You will let me leave because it will be inconvenient for you to keep me here. In addition to the fact that between the two of us, the police will consider me more credible. Or were you hoping for a close-up the next time you're on the news in their custody?"

L clenched his teeth, trying to contain the profanity that threatened to spill out. "Then I suppose you will do what you wish, assuming that you are prepared for the consequences."

"Don't worry, my boy – I am." Coil inclined his head in a mock bow. "Enjoy your evening."

L glared as the man walked past him, a faint whiff of garlic and antiseptic trailing in his wake. "Give my regards to the pompous ass who employs you."

Coil's jovial laugh echoed behind him as he passed through the lit door. "Consider it done!"

L's eyes darted from the tunnel opening to the door that Coil had just entered, hearing the sound of another door opening and closing beyond it. Even if this 'evidence' is false, he thought, it will give me some clue as to what Coil wants me to conclude. Attempting to deceive me will prove to be his downfall. L took out his cellphone: still no signal. Sighing as he re-pocketed it and lamenting that he had not had time for coffee before leaving his room, L walked toward the light, wishing now that he'd kept pace with Coil in order to prevent the man from surprising him.

Crossing the threshold, L noted that the light was coming from a small desktop lamp. Dusty papers scattered the desk, a cobweb spanning from an inbox to its surface. The blood trail led toward a door opposite the one L stood in, stopping just before reaching it. L edged past the desk, careful not to step in any more blood, and regarded a large cloth-covered lump between the back of the desk chair and the file cabinets lining the wall. This does not fit the Butcher's style at all, he thought. He leaves parts out, uncovered, and if he discarded the remainder of the bodies this way, we would have found them by now. It seems Coil cannot even manage a good fake, if it was his intention to mislead me. If he did not stage this, then it is possible that this is not even related to the case.

Bent, gloved hand extended, L pinched the edge of the draping cloth with two knuckles and pulled. He stood, and his eyes widened. Maulty's empty eyes stared at the ceiling, a second smile sliced into his throat to replace the one he'd never shown in life. Several thoughts flitted through L's brain but all were silenced by a resounding clatter and boom coming from the other room.

Dimly registering that he'd opened the other door and was now running outside, L heard "Go, go, go!" from what sounded like a group of men behind him. Though they were not speaking to him, L heeded their advice. He called them before we spoke, L thought; he must have.

L did not have time to consider why Coil was trying to frame him for the murder of Maulty, let alone if or why Coil had committed the murder himself. He needed to focus on the very immediate business of escaping capture. Once he found a suitable place to hide, he could call Watari and plan his next move.

Sprinting between buildings toward the beckoning branches of the park, L kept his body low, his motions lithe despite his furious pace. He had underestimated Coil's ruthlessness, and now a man was dead because of it. This debt is yours, Coil, L thought, and I will see that you pay it in full.

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Author's Note: So, a little bit of a cliffhanger – sorry about that. O_o I actually try to avoid those. I think perhaps L might have been thinking more clearly if he had not been 1. in need of sleep, 2. experiencing post-coital tiredness, 3. in need of caffeine, and 4. experiencing a sugar crash. Granted, that last one wouldn't have kicked in until he got to the hospital outbuilding, but . . . yeah. Wonder how far he'll get on his latest spike of adrenaline.

Also, I want to say thank you very much to those of you who have been leaving me reviews. I don't generally ask for them, because I feel that a review is worth more if it's been given freely, so I won't be cajoling or haranguing you guys for reviews. Just know that I really appreciate hearing from all of you. Getting feedback on what I'm writing makes my day. ^_^ So a special thanks to you guys, and thank you to everyone for reading!