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. Also, spoilers for one of my other fics, The Pull.

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In theory he was still free, he could have carried on walking, through one of three dark little wooden doors not far in front of him and away from there. It would simply mean he had not understood, or that he had understood but chose not to pay attention to it. But if he once turned round he would be trapped; then he would have acknowledged that he had understood perfectly well.

– excerpt from The Trial, Franz Kafka

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The Worst Feeling Ever

Chapter 18: Maelstrom

The tickle and poke of tiny green leaves and close branches was distracting, but no more so than the stench of mulch. Fleetingly, he thought of the cat he'd found hiding in another set of bushes and wondered if it was better not to know in advance that one was doomed. In his own case, the bone of contention was much different than Lucy's.

Peering through the shrubbery in which he was ensconced, L watched for headlights and listened for a familiar engine. It was past time for him to be picked up. In his escape from the location of Maulty's body in a hospital outbuilding that had fallen into disuse, he'd been glimpsed once from the back, but no one had gotten close. He'd been lucky. He was glad he'd worn his black "ninja" jeans and a green shirt today – white would have stood out too well, and he was not prepared to surrender. L thought back to Coil's outfit, the wig in particular, and scowled. He does not resemble me at all – perhaps he thought inducing 'reasonable doubt' in future eyewitness testimony would be enough to convict without real evidence, he thought, though his primary purpose was obviously to mislead Maulty into pursuing him as if he were me. The fact that Coil knew even rudimentary details of my appearance is disquieting enough. I had believed that I had disguised myself better in Brazil. Perhaps he is not as incompetent a detective as I had concluded.

The soothing thrum of an approaching limousine cheered L as he crouched, waiting. In the distance, a police siren still wailed, but L no longer heard rustling or the voices of men. The limo slowed to a stop near the worn bench at the curb, headlights flashing twice before going dark. After a moment, the driver's side door opened, and Watari stepped into view, staring over the hood of the car.

Exhaling in relief, L slipped out of the bushes, hunched low, hastening past the bench to the back passenger door and opening it. He entered and closed the door without much noise, shoes slipping to the floor as he took his perch on the wide leather seat. Without looking back, Watari re-entered the limousine and drove it forward, clicking the headlights on after a few meters and pulling away from the park, away from the police still searching for Maulty's killer. For several minutes, neither of them spoke.

L looked out the window, watching trees and buildings flit by as they turned away from campus. He felt surprisingly calm, as though his anger had split off from him to hover like a red balloon dancing just out of reach. Removing his blue gloves with a snap and laying them inside out on the smooth grey leather next to him, he reached for the dish of candies on the sideboard, unwrapping one and popping it in his mouth. Butterscotch wasn't his first choice, but it still tasted good, the rich sweetness coating his tongue.

"It is advantageous that tonight's dance has induced multiple students to rent limousines," L said. "Ours will not stand out in the least."

"Mm."

The sugar was helping. L felt he was thinking more clearly now. Pressing his thumb to his lip, his nose an inch from the window glass, he wondered if Coil was only working with the Butcher, or if he was actually the Butcher himself. How abominable to have taken people's lives just to seem to solve a case, if that is what he's been doing, L thought. Becoming a murderer merely to bolster one's reputation would be unforgiveable, unspeakable . . . Certainly Coil is likely to have killed Officer Maulty, at about 93%, though I have no objective proof of that. It will be interesting to see what evidence police turn up at the scene, other than any evidence that incorrectly implicates me.

"Aleister has been listening to the police band for information."

L nodded absently. "That is good, Watari. I wonder if –"

"You failed to mention that the deceased person was the officer who was following you in his spare time." There was a chill to the older man's tone.

L blinked. "I apologize for not going into more detail over the phone. Once I was able to get a signal, I was actively seeking to avoid detection."

"I do understand the need for stealth, but adding a word or two to that effect would have been well within your purview."

"Perhaps. But I knew that I would brief you more fully in person, so I focused on the priority of my escape."

Watari turned off the road, pulling the limousine behind a hydroelectric pumping station, staying out of the streetlights' glare and parking in shadow. He turned the engine off. A steady whooshing could be heard, though the river could not be seen from their vantage point. For a long moment, he continued staring straight ahead, both hands on the steering wheel.

Tilting his head, L wondered what the man was thinking. "Watari, we must continue moving if we –"

"Did the hunter become the hunted, L?" The older man met his eyes in the rear view mirror.

L raised an eyebrow. "I . . . am still hunting the Butcher, and I am closer than I was before . . ."

"You said those words just prior to your pursuit of Officer Maulty. And now he is deceased."

"It was my assessment at the time that Maulty was in pursuit of the Butcher," L said, deciding not to mention his suspicions of Maulty himself, all too aware of the man's blood marring his clothing and shoes. "I followed him with the intention of seeing if he would lead me to the murderer. I did not expect him to be killed, and I did not anticipate being led into a trap by Coil."

"A trap?"

"Yes. Coil murdered him and intentionally drew my attention to the body, even leaving a blood trail in the tunnel to lead me to the correct exit."

"Do you realize what you are saying?" Watari turned in his seat to face L, expression unreadable. "Coil may be many things, including pompous and unscrupulous, but he is loathe to dirty his own hands even to trap a rival. I am quite familiar with his tactics, as you may recall."

"I was unable to determine conclusively whether Coil murdered Maulty himself or the Butcher did, though Coil is the more likely candidate of the two, given the circumstances." Hands placed lightly on his knees, L gazed toward the vehicle's ceiling. "Maulty's death does not fit the Butcher's pattern – then again, I was unable to determine if a body part was removed from him. It is possible that this crime is not directly related to the Butcher's killings. I would put that at about 11%. Given the timing of this, however, and the locations involved, I would say the most likely scenario is that Coil and the Butcher are working together, at 71%, since it would be in their mutual interest to discredit me."

"Why would they be working together?"

"Coil is stooping to new lows in order to bolster his reputation. It is –"

"This is no mere matter of status. What proof was there that Coil did this?"

"Well . . . he was present at the scene. He took great pains to gloat about –"

"What?" Watari's normally placid expression was broken by a scowl.

"He pretended to be his own minion, as did I, but he was wearing a black wig in a sad attempt to mimic my appearance."

"Are you certain that mimicry was his intent?"

"I am only 62% certain of that, considering how pathetic his attempt was." L's eyes became half-lidded. "He . . . recognized my alternate identity, though it seems likely based on his reaction that he did not put that together until we met tonight. He may possess a recording of my news appearance, by the way, so we will have to handle that at some point."

Sighing, Watari shook his head. "You were very eager to investigate this case in person and infiltrate the school, to the point where I wondered about your motivation. It's as if you thought you had something to prove, and that is a dangerous mindset indeed."

"So you did not consider that I might have wanted a medical education?" L kept his tone flippant, in contrast to the growing knot in his stomach.

"I considered that, yes, much as I considered the possibility that you might want a bit more independence as well as the opportunity to experience more normal social interactions for your age group. Whether these factors drove your decision or not, the decisions you've made since then have shown a disquieting lack of foresight. Your personal involvement has been to your detriment."

"I disagree. I have learned quite a lot about this case and about people in general from my experiences here, but we can discuss that another time. Our most urgent priority is dealing with Coil now that he has shown that he is willing to kill out of self-interest."

Watari breathed silently for a moment, seeming to marshal his thoughts as he stared at L. "Did you see him kill Maulty?"

"No. He was –"

"Were his clothes bloodied?" Watari eyes surveyed L's clothing.

"I . . . They did not seem to be, though his shirt was red, so blood might not have shown. It is possible that he changed clothing before I arrived at the hospital, though he would not have had much time, considering the relative freshness of the blood at the crime scene. I suspect that Maulty and he had met before – otherwise, Coil would likely have had trouble subduing him."

"Did you obtain any solid evidence of Coil's involvement?"

"Had the police not arrived so quickly, I might have. I am hopeful that they will find proof of Coil's guilt, but whether they do or not, I must proceed with the knowledge that Coil is working with the Butcher."

"And that doesn't strike you as at all convenient?"

"It is extremely inconvenient, Watari."

"Eraldo Coil, the rival detective whom you detest, working with the Butcher, a criminal whom you have yet to catch – it smacks of paranoia. And this police officer, a person for whom you expressed acute dislike, is now dead."

L crunched the last of the candy, swallowing shards. "Whatever my personal feelings, I did not wish him dead."

"You are missing my point." Watari's eyes bored into L's. "Maulty pursued you with the intention of arresting you for the Butcher's murders. The actions he took against you were personal. He was a threat to you. Whatever his colleagues may have thought of him, Maulty could potentially have built a case against you, which would have been to Coil's advantage in terms of discrediting or delaying you – a much more likely scenario than Coil murdering him instead. Coil tends to delegate and manipulate rather than involve himself directly, and you've had direct experience with that. I do know that you have struggled to control your anger. We dedicated quite a bit of training time this summer to curb it, and you have made progress. However, the nature of this incident, and your reaction to it, raises questions." Taking a deep breath, Watari paused. "You say you have no evidence, yet there is evidence upon you, all of which could have an alternate explanation to the one you're offering me."

Mouth slightly open, L stared, numb. "You . . . believe that I am capable of murder?"

Watari's expression was stony. "I am not unaware of the circumstances that followed your parents' deaths. At the time, I took into account your age and the . . . severity of your loss. You have saved many lives in the work you have done to this point. You stand to save many more in the future, providing you retain some self-control. However, if one is capable of something once, then one is capable of it once again."

"I did not do this." L's response was terse, his lips pressed together.

"Regardless of what may have happened tonight, we must distance you from this incident at once."

"I did not do this." The anger that had been bobbing just out of reach loomed closer, and L gripped his knees, fingertips whitening, trying to keep his breathing even, trying to keep the feeling from merging with him.

"I will not allow you to jeopardize all we have accomplished by possibly getting yourself arrested for murder, whether you committed it or not. This is damage control at this point."

"I did not murder him!" L's shout rang in the closed space of the limo, and he was suddenly aware that he was shaking.

"You are a critical asset, one that must be protected at all costs. You cannot remain here without compromising your identity and thus your role in the world." Watari turned back around and re-started the engine. "We're done here, L."

Muscles tensing, L lurched forward, toes gripping the edge of the leather seat, right hand grasping the seat back in front of him, voice dropping nearly an octave. "If you force this 'solution' on me, I will abrogate my 'role in the world' altogether. I will pull the plug. I will expose our operation in its entirety, including absolutely everyone involved, unless you allow me to complete my investigation. Every secret you have concealed, including my own, will be told to the world at large."

"That would accomplish nothing. Threats are not your way out of this."

"I already have the means to do this at my disposal, Watari. You may ask Roger about the 'minor security breach' at Wammy House ten months ago and draw your own conclusions if you doubt me." A strand of hair rested on L's nose, slashing his view of the older man in the driver's seat.

Watari's eyes flicked to meet L's in the rear view mirror. "You would be a fool to throw your life away by taking such action, and the harm you would inflict upon others would be unconscionable."

"Then allow me to finish."

"It's out of the question."

"Do you suppose that you will make regular trips to visit Roger in Yemen, once he's extradited for trial? Or will you move there to be closer to him before they carry out his execution? It would be the least you could do, considering your role, despite the fact that the evidence you suppressed only implicates him."

Mouth a thin line, Watari twisted to face him. "Resorting to blackmail only underlines my concerns, and my conviction."

"Fittingly, considering that you have already convicted me in your mind." L's eyes flashed. "Since I cannot rely on you to believe me, I must resort to other methods to gain results. As you must know by now, results are what I care most about. Being a detective is what I am good at, and it is all I can truly call my own. If you try to take it from me, I will expose everything. Unless, of course, you intend to murder me yourself, right here. In which case, only some secrets will become exposed."

They stared at each other over the seat back, the fading flush on L's face in sharp contrast to the growing pallor on Watari's, the idling engine almost drowning out the sound of distant rushing water. That Watari thought him a murderer cut L to his core. If not even this man believed him . . . it changed everything. Every death was a debt, whether he was directly responsible or not, and L had to pay every debt back – not with more death, but with justice. He'd learned that lesson young, and he had not forgotten.

Only Watari and Aleister knew how important justice was to L. Among the others at Wammy House, and to anyone in law enforcement, it suited L for them to believe that he cared only for the solution of crimes as puzzles, a detective who chose cases according to status and whim. It would not do for anyone to know that he found something – anything – important. Caring about something is a weakness, L thought, because it means one has something to lose. If others knew, they would use that knowledge against me, just as Watari is doing now.

When L had taken his pre-emptive information-accruing measures ten months ago, he had done so as insurance. He had not expected to be using this leverage so soon, and not against Watari. He'd been anticipating that Roger would try and put a stop to their investigations, given the man's constant grousing over Watari's absences. Paranoia may be overrated, L thought, but it has proven useful. He would not back down. If his role as an agent of justice was stripped from him, L would be unable to repay the debts still due, the lives already lost. Consequently, with everything he cared about on the verge of being taken away, L had nothing to lose. He did not blink. He stared deep into the watery blue eyes of the man he'd thought of as his one true ally.

Watari's eyes slipped to the grey divide between them. "If you so much as set foot in that dorm, they will arrest you." His voice sounded older, shaky. "We are fortunate that the police have not noticed the fingerprint alteration I made to the record they created when they brought you in for questioning, but there is still unaltered footage of you from the security cameras within the police station. We must prevent any images or other pertinent data on you from being shared with other organizations. It will be too difficult to control where the information goes, once disseminated."

"Nonsense." L spoke briskly, muscles still quaking slightly. "I expect even little Matt could take care of that quickly. Should the need arise, I may employ him on that very task if you do not feel up to it."

"L . . ." Watari slumped in his seat, still half-turned.

"Some items will need to be retrieved from my dorm room. Other items can be left behind, provided they are devoid of any DNA or fingerprints, to give the impression that Ezekiel Penn still resides there, or at the very least did not intend to remain away. We can plant the altered fingerprints there using the stamp you created, so that an absence of fingerprints won't cause suspicion."

"Yes, that can be done." Watari wouldn't meet his eyes. "How do you intend to carry on the investigation?"

"I will join you at your suite. If there is insufficient room, we will book an adjacent one. My immersion as a student is at an end. I will only use that identity as a last resort now." L fingered the worn business card in his back pocket. "I will make sure that the Butcher is brought to justice, and Coil will get his due as well. They are connected, and I will find out how and expose them both." L pushed back, resuming his regular perched position on the seat. "We will need to work quickly, while Coil still thinks that I am at a loss."

Nodding, Watari sighed heavily and turned forward in his seat to put the limousine in drive.

L felt the shift. Exhaling slowly, he watched as they emerged from shadow and swept back onto the road, leaving the sound of gushing water behind them. The link between them was altered now. Running investigations had always been a joint effort. L had been the one drawing 96% of the conclusions, he'd been the one solving every case, but Watari had been a guide, a mentor, and as close to a parent as he'd had since his parents and grandmother had died. Watari's doubt and recrimination still burned like white fire inside L – the man's opinion meant too much to him for it not to hurt. But the shift had happened, as perhaps they'd known it one day would, and there was no going back. L was in charge now. The fates of everyone he knew, and many he did not, were in his hands alone.

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His hands still felt sweaty from the gloves, though he'd taken them off an hour ago. They'd worked in silence, methodically. Not once did the expected admonishment come. Oh, who am I kidding – he likely knows exactly why I didn't tell him what L had got up to, Aleister thought. I'm lucky he didn't make me clean up the sheets.

The process of cleaning up L's dorm room had taken less time than he'd expected, but it'd been nerve-wracking just the same. After securing all of L's equipment and everything he'd stashed around the room – case files, maps, and snack cakes alike – Aleister and Watari had wiped everything down, put new sheets on the bed, and replaced L's computer (excepting the monitor) with a regular one, copying "Ezekiel's" schoolwork onto it in case the police obtained the hard drive. Watari had used the same rubber stamp he'd used at the police station to place altered fingerprints around the room as well. Exiting the dorm, still wearing their Heating and A/C uniforms, Aleister had been surprised that the few students they'd encountered had barely glanced their way considering the lateness of the hour. They'd heard police sirens as they'd driven away, but they'd been hearing those most of the night following the discovery of the police officer's body.

Watari walked around the side of the van and removed the magnet with the invented company name and phone number on it and then did the same on the other side. He handed the magnets and the false license plates to Aleister, who stashed them in their clean-up case, acutely aware that stealing and temporarily modifying a work van was well within the realm of things Beyond would do. He'd thought somehow that Watari would be above all that, even if the rest of them weren't.

"That's the last of it. Can you make the climb?"

Aleister looked from the suitcase and clean-up case at his feet to the two larger cases and drawstring laundry sack the older man was lifting. "I'll make it, yeah."

"Step on rocks and roots to avoid making shoe impressions wherever possible. Be careful not to fall, and stay as quiet as you can, but whistle if you need assistance." Watari turned and headed up the embankment, further away from the lights of the commercial parking lot from which they'd taken the van now parked back in its spot.

Despite knowing that their climb would be more challenging than their descent had been, Aleister hated being treated like a child. He supposed that it was second nature to Watari, who in all likelihood still saw him as a child, but this was the first time since he'd arrived in Toronto that he'd been made to feel like one. Watching where he stepped, he followed the man upward through the tangle of trees.

Something had happened. Something other than what he knew, though Aleister couldn't discern what. When Watari had called him to say that he was returning with L, his voice had sounded different – more measured, more deferential, almost blank. Aleister had brought down everything that Watari had asked for, taking the back way with a borrowed handcart, expecting to be filled in on all the details. Instead, they'd stood by the limo in silence as L had changed into the disguise Aleister had brought – navy blue suit, short blond wig and all – until L had emerged and told them what to do. It's as though all of the Wammy has gone out of him, and all that's left is the shell of Watari, Aleister thought, and shuddered.

Finally, he shouldered past the last tree, stepping over the curb of the higher parking lot, the Sojourner Suites sign shining down like an amber beacon. He quickened his pace to catch up to Watari, who was now opening the trunk of the limousine between pools of light near the hotel.

"Take that up to him, and this," Watari said, setting the case containing the computer at his feet. "I'll be disposing of several items and picking up a few things. Let him know that, please." He heaved the laundry bag and the clean-up case into the trunk with the other case and closed it.

"I will, but . . . what are we to do next?"

Watari did not meet his eye. "Ask him."

Aleister stared, dumbstruck for a moment, as Watari entered the vehicle and started it. Shaking himself, he lifted the cases off the pavement and walked away, making for the back entrance as the car pulled off. Arms straining, Aleister wished he hadn't put the borrowed handcart back where it belonged.

Watari seemed livid, even afraid, when he left earlier, Aleister thought, and now he seems not to care. What the bloody hell happened? Crossing the back hall, he approached the elevators and pressed the up button, relieved when the doors to one opened immediately with no one else inside. He lugged his burdens into the car. It can't be the sex thing, he thought; Watari didn't seem angry about that, just vaguely resigned. It was right after I turned the police band on . . .

A cheery ding announced his arrival on the seventeenth floor. Aleister emerged, lips pursed in thought, struggling down the hall with the heavy cases. They said "Officer down!" and "It's Maulty!" right before Watari's expression changed, Aleister thought, but . . . well, L wouldn't have had anything to do with that. He's the type to outsmart and evade, not kill and run. Not even Beyond would . . . Aleister closed his eyes, setting the case on the carpet outside the suite door, steadying himself. Could there be some connection between this Maulty and Beyond? What aren't they telling me? Face flushed, Aleister dipped the keycard into the room lock and opened the door, propping it open with a knee as he dragged the cases in with him.

The door thudded to a close behind him as he moved past the closet and bathroom. As he rounded the corner of the tiny kitchen, a square of white paper on the floor caught his eye. "Open please" was written in familiar spiky handwriting on hotel notepaper. Aleister set the cases down and found himself automatically moving the few steps to the adjoining door, unshooting the bolt and opening it.

"Cozy?" There was no response from the darkened room, and Aleister wondered if he'd made a mistake. Hesitantly, he started to pull the door closed.

"Leave it."

Aleister sighed at L's perfunctory tone. I don't want to face you any more than you want to face me, he thought, but there's nothing for it. "Thought you might like to access your computer from the dorm."

"Mm. Yes, actually. Bring it in."

Rolling his eyes, Aleister turned and grabbed the heaviest case, lugging it over the threshold between the adjoining rooms. As he set it down, he noted that L was crouched on the floor, back to him, in front of a computer that was also on the floor. "There are desks, you know."

"I am avoiding windows and mirrors. Even augmented hotel curtains are inefficient at blocking outside surveillance."

"Right . . ." Aleister frowned, noting the duct tape on the curtains and opting not to ask about L's apparent escalation in paranoia. He stared at the computer, wondering if L had taken the one he'd been using. "Is that –"

"There was additional computer equipment in the chest, which I retrieved from hotel storage." L did not turn around, seeming to read a series of files at rapid speed. "I checked in under the alias Darrell Strawberry."

"Subtle. So, what's got Watari off his game?"

L sighed audibly. "I do not have time to banter with you, Aleister. If you wish to be useful, please bring me some coffee."

"If I –" Aleister huffed. "I'm not your bloody servant!"

"Is Watari here?"

"No, he's off –"

"Then yes, you are. Either be useful or be quiet. Actually, be quiet regardless."

"Fuck you, L." Aleister turned on a heel and walked out into the light of the main suite.

"That is no longer on my to do list." The faint sound of L's voice drifted from the darkness.

Aleister rubbed a hand over his eyes. Under other circumstances, he might think L was deliberately baiting him, but L's manner seemed too cold for that. Fuck it – I'm washing up first, Aleister thought. His majesty's coffee can wait. He marched into the bathroom and shut the door.

Running water felt cool on his hands as he soaped and rinsed. Aleister's eyes roamed the small, brightly-lit room, dodging to his own blue jumpsuit-clad image in the mirror and then away, going over recent events in his mind, but nothing seemed out of place, nothing seemed different. Not physically, anyway, he thought, taking down a fresh washcloth and wetting it. They've argued about something, obviously, but what? Aleister wondered. Part of him wanted to drop it and ignore the discord, but he knew it was not in his nature to do so. Whether he chose to be subtle or blunt in his approach, he needed to know – he always needed to know. In many ways, he felt it was his downfall, this need.

Face and neck thoroughly scrubbed and pink for his efforts, Aleister exited the bathroom. The other case – the one containing some of L's clothes as well as printed case files, maps and notes, sugarcube bags, and snack cakes – stood out in the center of the suite, a black rectangle against sage green carpet. He considered leaving it where it was, but . . . That won't get me anywhere, he thought. And I suppose I could use some coffee too, since it seems we're pulling an all-nighter. Aleister stepped into the open kitchen and started the coffee, spying a used mug in the sink. Apparently he's already gone through one pot.

Once the burbling sounds of the brewing process started, he strode out of the kitchen, grabbing the suitcase as he went by, and re-entered L's room. L hadn't moved. He stared at the computer screen, scrolling through page after page of text, leaning forward as if his face was magnetized to the images before him. His white shirt, now untucked, stood out in the darkness, the suit jacket nowhere to be seen. Aleister dropped the case with a thump.

"Your clothes, your toothbrush, your very likely never-used comb – they're all in this case, along with your notes, maps, and files. And snacks." Aleister glared at the back of L's head, noting that the blond wig he'd worn earlier had been tossed aside to sit nearby, a golden, legless pet. "Coffee's on its way. Now tell me what happened."

L continued to scroll, presumably reading, presumably trying to ignore him. Aleister concluded that even his bluntness had been too subtle and threw a hotel notepad at L's head. L's only reaction to it bouncing off his skull was to rub his hand over it briefly.

"If you do not explain, I will make you miserable." Aleister spoke through clenched teeth.

"I am already miserable."

"Oh yes, poor you, experiencing a little setback after a night of passion, I –"

"A man is dead because of me." L's voice was terse, and he did not turn. "That is at least three people since I got here, not counting others the Butcher has murdered. Do not trivialize someone's death as 'a little setback.'"

Shaken by L's outburst, Aleister still refused to back down. "You're right. That was crass of me, and I apologize. If you want me to be useful, however, you must bring me up to speed. Otherwise, I will continue to interrupt you – or better yet, I will start doing things on my own."

L exhaled sharply, remaining silent for a few moments as he continued to scroll. Finally, he paused. "Do you want B found?"

Aleister noted the word choice: "found," not "rescued." He clenched his fists. "Yes."

"Then please let me work."

"Tell me the nature of your falling out with Watari, and I will."

"He wanted to give up. I do not." L speared him with a glance over his shoulder, the bags under his eyes seeming more pronounced in the glare from the computer in the otherwise darkened room. "Also, he disagrees with my assessment that Coil is in league with the Butcher."

Aleister's eyes went wide. "Bloody . . . Well, that might explain a few things, but . . . if that's true, then the only reason for all this . . ."

". . . is for Coil to bolster his flagging reputation as the world's best detective. He's allowed several people to die and has likely killed at least one himself, specifically Officer Maulty." L's jaw muscle twitched. "In addition to helping the Butcher so that he can appear to catch him later, Coil seeks to neutralize me, considering that he just tried to frame me for the murder of a police officer."

Aleister felt his mouth fall open, and he left it that way for a moment, taking in L's bleak expression, his more hunched than usual form. When he spoke again, his voice was hushed. "And Watari doesn't believe you."

"Correct." L turned back to face the screen.

He stared at L's back, his other concerns temporarily forgotten. Pages of text resumed their rapid progress, flitting past L's gaze. Aleister swallowed. "Right then. Give a shout when you find something in Coil's case files. I'll scan them again as well. I'll bring the coffee when it's done."

"Thank you, Aleister."

Walking to the adjoining door, Aleister paused. "Given your pronoun use regarding the Butcher . . . do you genuinely suspect Janine and Danielle? Or was that carefully worded malarkey to throw him off?"

"They are possible suspects, yes, given the timing of . . . things."

Aleister tossed his hair, looking away. "Please. So you lost your virginity. Good for you." He managed to keep the tremor out of his voice. "But irrespective of timing, I don't for a second believe that either Danielle or Janine is the Butcher or even an accomplice, and what's more, neither do you."

"Oh really." L's tone was dry.

"Yes really. Their personalities are both completely wrong – they don't fit the profile."

"They could be acting. Sociopathic personality types tend to be –"

"They aren't." Aleister interrupted. "If either of them had ASPD, you'd have picked up on that by now – you're bloody good at pinpointing those. And I doubt you've suddenly lost your ability to detect when someone is lying."

"I am human. I have missed things."

"Not this many things. While we were cleaning up at your dorm, by the way, we bugged the sixth floor kitchen and placed a camera there too, so you'll likely see them and several other residents if you doubt your earlier impressions. My recommendation, not that you want one, is to go back over your personal observations of everyone, not just those two, and set aside all preconceptions. Do your little . . . zen thing, see if that works."

"Transcendental meditation. And it does not work."

Aleister rolled his eyes. "Fine then. Mull things over in the shower – something you desperately need, just so you know." He ignored L's grunt of indignation. "Back in a bit with coffee."

The scent of the brew was stronger as Aleister approached the kitchen, handily overpowering the scent of L's sweat. Aleister felt he had enough distractions to contend with without pheromones figuring into the mix. He poured coffee into a large mug and lifted it, a full bag of sugarcubes in his other hand, before walking back into the next room. Setting both on the floor next to L's bunched form, Aleister hesitated.

"He wanted me to tell you he's disposing of certain items and then acquiring a few things. Possibly a lorry full of sugar."

"Do you believe me?" L's tone was soft, matter-of-fact.

"That Coil tried to frame you? Yes, I do, actually."

L turned to look him in the eye. "Do you believe that I could be a murderer?"

Aleister blinked. "Of course not."

Nodding, L turned back to the screen. "Thank you."

Aleister left the room and almost didn't hear L's muted words behind him: "It is good to know that my ability to detect a lie has not left me."

#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#

Author's Note: When I started this fic, it was a scenario like this that I had in mind. Not just that random people around L might think he was a murderer, but that someone he cared about might think so. Because let's face it, L doesn't really give a crap about what most people think. But Watari? That's another matter. For someone's view of him to result in the 'worst feeling ever,' that someone would have to matter. Part of my goal here is to show some of the ways in which L became the L we know from canon.

I mentioned my other fic, The Pull, in the Summary above because it's what Watari is referring to in his discussion with L in the limo. I've spoiled it a bit, but if you want to know more about that situation, you can read the story.

Thanks for reading!