notes/warnings

+ swearing

+ short chapter is short

Stumbling

Acquiring Roper turns out to be relatively easy, as the woman seems to lack anything beyond the most basic knowledge of building security. Watari ties her up in the designated interrogation room, and L goes about his research in the adjoining observation room. Raye returns before Roper wakes, irritable and unpleasant from the delay in his flight.

Slowly, insidiously, the effects of a new Kira are appearing. Interest rates are going up. Insurance companies are becoming ridiculously picky. And excessive anti-terrorist mechanisms are being put into place in every airport and dock.

More and more people are working it out. More and more criminals are dying. L has a few days, at most, before this case explodes into rampant panic and genocide.

Mail is emotionally exhausted, the Penbers are regarding each other with tired resignation, Raye keeps scowling at him, and his Shinigami is constantly attempting to undermine him out of what appears to be nothing more than petty spite.

Sometimes, he thinks he'd be better off alone.

Roper stirs under her blindfold, and L reaches for the intercom.

"What the fuck is going on?" she murmurs, and then appears to consider her situation. "Oh. Right. Kimiko, is this your doing?"

L tilts his head.

"Who is Kimiko?" he asks.

Roper laughs.

"Well, if this is some sort of loyalty test, I guess I've already failed, right? I'm going to have to hope and presume that you're not her. Kimiko is the name of a woman who is accumulating disciples of Kira. I believe she may also be responsible for the enormous surge in heart attacks in convicted criminals, but I've got no evidence of that."

Interesting.

"Is this the woman for whom you designed the website."

"Ah," Roper says knowingly. "This is down to Matt, then?"

"Just answer the question."

"Yup, I'm responsible for the recruiting website. Are you for or against Kira, sir?"

"I could ask you the same question," he says, with a little admiration. She's really not frightened at all.

"You could. Since Matt is probably working for you, and he is pro-Kira, I can presume that I'm about to die for saying this, but I'm a double agent. I wanted to get close to Kimiko and then go to the police when I had enough evidence. She sought me out, looking for me to donate some of my time and talent, and I couldn't resist the opportunity."

"Fuck," Mail utters. "She's…she's on our side."

"Perhaps," L replies. "I am starting to like this Roper."

"Why don't you just admit that you're disappointed you don't get to torture anyone," Rae says vindictively. "Or better yet, you could just torture her anyway. That would make you feel better, right, L?"

"Your sudden disgust of my character is unnerving," L tells it softly. "What on earth have I done to deserve it?"

"The death toll gets higher and higher," Rae points out. "What have you done to try and combat that?"

"Hey, Mr Kidnapper, what happened to you?" Roper asks loudly. "Are you about to execute me? I'd like a bit of warning. Make my peace, and all that."

"My apologies," L says into the intercom. "Matt and I are on the same side of this battle, one which we apparently share with you?"

"He's against Kira?" Roper asks, grinning a little. "Ha! I'm glad."

"We presumed he would need to lie in such a way to earn your trust," L explains. "Tell me what you know, Roper."

"You should have left it a bit longer," she replies, unhappily. "Not much. Proving yourself as a disciple is gruelling, though. I can walk you through the process. She's trying to reinstate the original Kira, but I don't know how. But for my own peace of mind, I did happen to hack into this woman's personal files and find the address of her headquarters. Thing is, the place is going to be impenetrable. You'd have no way of checking without risking someone's life. Oh, hey, I wouldn't mind going in there for you. I've already been inducted."

"That won't be necessary at this stage," L tells her softly. He likes this girl, too. Another excellent protégé. He has no idea how Watari selected these children, but he obviously did a thorough and thoughtful job of it.

"Just get the damn address," Rae hisses. "This is taking far too long as it is."

"But please tell me where this woman can be found," L continues, diligently.

"With pleasure," Roper replies. "It's number seventeen, Baker Street. Heh. Pretty funny, when you think about it."

"I didn't even know there was a real Baker Street," Mail mutters.

L strikes a few keys on his computer and examines the resulting map.

"That building has been condemned," he tells Roper. "Are you certain of this?"

"Look, this lady isn't stupid," the girl assures him. "There's a basement level to that building. According to some of the other disciples, she's done the place up like palace. She's really touched in the head. You need to be careful."

"I understand," L says, and turns to his Shinigami. "I don't need to remind you not to be seen, do I?"

"Ryuk will see me," Rae replies. "But he's not allowed to tell his mistress of my presence."

"Good. Then go."

"Oh, I'm going, don't worry."

Rae flounces out of the room without another word.

"We have an agent who can escape detection," L tells Roper. "We will find out what we can about this location."

"Swell. Hey, do you mind letting me down from here? My arms are tingling, and my legs have gone to sleep. It's not nice."

L hesitates.

"You have seen this Kimiko woman? Face to face?"

"Yes."

"Then I would ask you to tolerate your conditions for a little longer, please. Another few hours, maximum."

If Kimiko really is faux-Kira, then she'll have the eyes. And if she's seen Roper's face, then there is a chance that she could control the girl, and use her against them. He absolutely cannot free Roper as long as she remains within close proximity to this building.

But her suggestion has considerable merit. If he sends Roper back to faux-Kira's side, then he does not have to send a member of his team. No other lives need be put at risk. She can run surveillance for them, she can convince this Kira to confess, she can win on their behalf.

He hopes Rae returns soon. He cannot make any final decisions on their next course of action until Roper's information has been confirmed. By the same token, they cannot detain the girl for much longer. Faux-Kira will notice if a supporter has been absent without reason for too long.

"Mail," he says calmly. "Can we trust this woman?"

"I dunno. Probably. And she hasn't seen anyone's face here, and she doesn't know where we are, so she can't actually betray us."

"True," L muses. "If faux-Kira's lodgings truly are impenetrable, then it will be impossible for us to bug the place. We can place fairly invisible audio taps on a person, I believe, with Watari's latest technology, but visual will be lacking. Which means we'll need a verbal confession, plus the statement of the person present."

"Roper, right?" Mail asks. "You're going to use her."

"I have raised you well," L tells him, indulgently.

Naomi takes some time for herself. She showers and washes her hair and studiously avoids her husband and makes herself tea. An hour ticks past, and she goes to find her boss, ignoring Raye's wounded expression.

She cannot stop thinking about L's Shinigami, and not just for the obvious reasons. Now that she's had time to mull it over, the creature almost seems to have had a complete attitude reassignmentover time. It was desperate to save L's life the day they first met it, but now it treats him with nothing but disdain and spite.

Something is not right.

She has half a mind to discuss her thoughts with L. But then she finds him hunched over his desk, eye wide and glazed in the darkness, scrolling through a list of dead criminals. He looks robotic, almost, barely human. He looks wrung out and empty.

"L," she says softly, almost reluctant to disturb him. "You should take a nap, or something."

"I cannot sleep," L tells her. "People are dying."

Naomi senses a presence behind her, and is unsurprised to find Rae standing next to her, bladed and terrible, its eyes trained on the back of L's head like he is the only thing in the world.

She blinks. Those eyes are the colour of rust.

Interesting.

"You're back," she says, with false enthusiasm, and Rae frowns and shakes its head. And she sees the change, sees the way its eyes brighten and shift back to their usual blood-red state.

"Yeah," it replies, distractedly. "L. Eat some sugar or something. There is weird shit going down, you can't be half asleep."

"Is that the technical term for it?" L asks, with a worn out little smile. The Shinigami sneers at him and L wilts, all good humour gone.

Rae either doesn't notice, or pretends not too, instead launching straight into its report on faux-Kira's apparent lodgings.

"Okay. The place exists, including a fully-furnished, liveable basement level, just as Roper said. And…I can tell you right now that this woman is Kiyomi Takada."

"That makes no sense at all," L says immediately. "We know Takada is in hell."

"Well, it's either her, or a damn good doppelganger."

Naomi raises one eyebrow.

"I thought you could see someone's name hovering over their head. What happened, Shinigami?"

"Are your eyes damaged again?" L asks, voice low and concerned. "Rae? They are still completely red. Did something-"

"No. The problem definitely isn't me this time," Rae says, with a smarmy sort of confidence that makes Naomi want to kick the thing in the face. "It's her. Her name and numbers are in…code, or something. Some other language. I can't read it."

"How curious," L says thoughtfully. "Do you know what that means?"

"No idea. Never seen it before."

"But it means that we can't be sure we're dealing with the real Takada," Naomi points out. "In fact, we ought to be sure that we're not, since we know Takada is incapacitated. Do we know if she ever had sisters, or children, or anything? Anyone that could resemble her?"

"Why would you even say that she is Takada, if you cannot read her name?" L enquires. "Have you met the woman before, Rae?"

"You do realise gods of death aren't actually completely immune to human media, right?" Rae tells him scathingly. "I've been in the first world. Takada was famous. Most Shinigami can recognise a famous human based solely on their face."

"I cannot accept that she is Takada," L says firmly. "That would mean accepting that those in hell can also enter this reality, which would mean…"

Which would mean Light could show up. At any moment, since his henchmen are already starting to appear here. And dear god, now L isn't going to sleep ever again.

"Which would mean Mello would have come back to you already," Naomi reminds him. "Which he hasn't, so that can't be true."

"Every person has a different hell," L mutters. "Rem. Rem's hell was here. It is possible for some to come here, and others to be restricted. But why? Who decides this?"

"Huh?"

He's babbling.

"Rae?"

"Mm?"

The Shinigami treats L with such exaggerated dislike as to be almost comical.

As if it's trying to prove something.

"What else have you learned?"

"She is operating under the alias 'Kimiko', which we already suspected. Roper's estimation was incorrect, the place is by no means impenetrable, but the entire house is under constant and thorough camera surveillance, with absolutely no blind spots. She has a lot of contact with other people, most of whom seem to operate elsewhere. I can tell you the names of the handful of security guards that live with her."

"Their function would be to monitor the area, I imagine," L says thoughtfully. "Anyone entering the premises is at faux-Kira's mercy as soon as they're caught on camera. The extra help would only be necessary if someone was masked or hooded, in which case they'd probably be shot on sight, without question."

"That makes sense," Naomi intones.

"And on top of that, there is absolutely no evidence," Rae tells them. "She has what looks like either a death note, or a replica, but I can't tell you more than that. You're either going to have to get a confession out of her, or kill her. And, of course, you're not going to use the simple method. That wouldn't put enough lives at risk, right?"

"There's a lady out there killing criminals, a dozen an hour, and you're insinuating that L is the bad guy here?" Naomi asks curtly.

Rae smiles at her secretively, reminding her of their earlier conversation.

Sensible use of a death note is a common, normal response.

But why would it say that? It seems like Rae is criticising L no matter what he does, looking for any opportunity to insinuate his immorality, regardless of whatever ethical code it actually adheres too. She cannot even decide whether it supports Kira's philosophy or not. It seems to condemn L equally for his lack of killing, and the few incidents where he almost used the note.

The thought makes her inexplicably happy.

You're clutching at straws, aren't you, she thinks. I'm not sure why, or what your goal is, but you're desperate to hate L for any reason at all.

"Using the note also leaves this woman's inevitable successors free to take over from her," L says calmly. "We need to do this publicly."

"Unless you have her send you the death note before she dies."

"Certainly, if we can be convinced that Ryuk won't interfere any further. Since he was originally Light's Shinigami, we can presume that he may still hold some feelings for the man. Ryuk's selection of a woman like Kimiko as the new death note owner suggests that he may deliberately be trying to rescue the original Kira."

"That's ridiculous. Death gods don't operate like that."

"You said Ryuk sought entertainment. Surely Light was very entertaining."

"So we're operating under the possibility that people can be saved from hell?" Naomi asks, with disbelief.

"We are operating under the assumption that we cannot be certain that we are safe from those in hell," L corrects. "We must be as careful as possible."

"So one of us is going to have to go through the initiation that Roper outlined," Naomi says unhappily. "That's not good, L. I mean, none of us are fools. I'm sure we can all pledge our love to Kira and give away believable names and addresses and vulnerable family members and all of that, but the final test?"

"You have to shoot an unknown person on sight," Rae says smugly. "On command, right in the heart, to prove your loyalty to the cause. How is that any better than using the note, L?"

"Not if we can use Roper. She's already been initiated."

"Oh. Right. Can we trust that girl?" Naomi asks.

"I don't know," L replies softly. "But she is in too useful a position to waste. Naomi, please inform your husband of what we have learned, and what we suspect. Under no circumstances is anyone to tell Mail. As far as he is concerned, Kimiko is a hitherto unknown worshipper of Kira."

"Understood," she replies, dutifully.

L isn't evil, per se, he is simply morally pathetic. He's so scared of making any actual decisions that he winds up stumbling over his own bare toes, and getting a lot of innocent people killed while he agonises over what he ought to do.

He's deplorable, but not beyond repair. He has done good things in the past, surprisingly. Turning in his mother. Putting his life at risk to save people. Taking on world famous serial killers. It's almost cute, how hard he tries.

And still he fails. Incompetency is as unforgivable as outright wickedness. And L will never change.

He's as bad as that boy, wide-eyed and brimming with false sanctimony.

Never mind, now.

I did it before and I'll do it again.

Soon.

"So you struggled to access this woman's address," Mail muses, genuinely curious, for once. "Interesting. She found a hacker better than you?"

"There are at least two that I know of," Roper tells him comfortably. "And hey, maybe three, if you've gotten your act together."

"Not really, no. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Who says I want competition?" she asks, grinning. "It's all good. Who are you working with, anyway? Who was the other guy?"

It strikes Mail suddenly that any other Wammy's kid would be envious of his present closeness to L.

"A detective," he says vaguely. "He's pretty good, I guess. Keeps me busy."

"I bet Wammy would be proud to hear you're working with a detective," Roper comments. "What's his name?"

"You know, the more questions you ask, the more suspicious we're going to be, right?"

"Ack, right. Sorry."

Mail blows his fringe out of his eyes. He had forgotten just how ditzy Roper could be. It's amazing that Kimiko - or whoever - hasn't just killed her out of annoyance. But then, she's a really damn good hacker. And apparently quite content to hang blindfolded and restrained in the interrogation room and converse with someone who's practically a stranger via intercom, like everything is totally normal and they're going to catch up over coffee later.

Mail really doesn't understand other human beings.

"It's okay," he says awkwardly.

The door behind him creaks slightly, and that man comes into the room.

"M," he says gruffly.

"R," Mail returns.

"That thing is back," he continues distastefully. "It's talking to Naomi and L as we speak. Apparently, Roper's information checks out. The plan is to return her to her home, and use her to spy on Kimiko."

"Do we know who Kimiko is?"

"Nothing conclusive. L doesn't think that she's any of Light's old associates."

"Thank fuck for that," Mail says, although he doesn't quite mean it. Somewhere, deep down, he wants this woman to be Takada. He wants Takada to be here, living and breathing and scrabbling for her false god.

Because if she were here, then he could kill her. He could put a bullet through her heart, and see the light die from her eyes, and send her straight back to hell, and finally, finally fucking do something. The investigation wouldn't matter any more. It wouldn't matter if he wound up in jail. It wouldn't matter if he wound up in hell. To kill Kiyomi Takada would be worth every second of an eternity of torture.

When he looks down, he has Mello's picture in his hand. He doesn't even remember reaching for it. That man – Raye, or something – glances over his shoulder with vague interest.

"He's cute," he offers. "He looks like a girl, though."

"He was amazing," Mail says shakily. "It's such…such a fuckin' waste!"

"Hey, easy. No hysterics in the observation room," Raye-thingy says, grabbing his shoulder.

"Oh, shut up," Mail sneers.

Raye is just brimming with condescending bullshit, all the fuckin' time, and Mail hates it. And he knows that no one else understands the enormity of what losing Mello means, or the fact that he was roughly the entirety of Mail's world, or the fact that Mail still doesn't know how that scar would have felt under his fingers, rough and dangerous and gone.

How long does he have to go on like this? He cannot go on dying and living for all eternity, surely?

"I thought of something else!" Roper calls abruptly, and Mail reaches for the intercom.

"What is it?"

"Demographics of the disciples are pretty skewed," she tells him quickly. "As far as I know, about eighty percent of Kimiko's recruits are female."

"Seriously?" Raye asks. "Any particular reason?"

"She seems to be frightened of someone," Roper says thoughtfully. "I dunno. But I once overhead her talking about some mafia guy, and it sounded as if she thought he was after her, or something. If I didn't know better, I'd say she'd been abused."

"If that's true, then this is a horribly sad situation," Raye says tiredly. "Battered woman turns to Kira in an attempt to improve her life."

"And winds up ruining everyone else's life," Mail adds. "Huh. That does suck."

"Anyway, we shouldn't dwell on things like that," Roper continues. "This isn't an interrogation session any more, right? Let's talk about stupid stuff. What have you done since you died? You can't have just worked for the same detective guy all your life, right?"

"Pretty much, yes," Mail replies. He's getting heartily sick of her cheery demeanour.

"Really? That's it? Huh. How boring."

"Boring?" Mail asks incredulously.

"Well, yeah. I mean, even I've done one or two interesting things in my time. I've been travelling, Matt-"

The simple syllable floors him, punches a damn hole clean through his mind like an angry freight train, reeking of Mello and eternity.

Death ought to be eternal. Dying ought to have been enough.

"I've seen the world," Roper continues, oblivious to his suffering. "I wound up working as a game designer in China for a year. Hooked up with a boy called Ludo. Don't know his real name, but god he was hot. He had this amazing tongue-"

"Roper," Mail snarls. "That's enough."

But he's almost grateful for the distraction.

"Whoops," she says cheerfully. "Hey, it's not like you're young and innocent any more. Anyway, how about you? Honestly, I kinda figured you'd be married by now."

Mail just about chokes on his own saliva. Raye thumps him on the back.

"Why the fuck would you think that?" he demands viciously.

He's not exactly marriage fuckin' material.

Even Roper seems to recognise the venom in his voice, and seems genuinely taken aback.

"I didn't mean to upset you," she says gently. "I just, you know. Wammy's was an emotional sinkhole. And yet you practically had a significant other. I just figured…"

Mail slams his hands against the desk so hard he feels something crack in his left palm. He's so angry and confused that he doesn't know what he wants to say.

"Fuck you," he says into the intercom. "How dare you say that."

"Hey," she sputters. "I didn't…I…"

But he's gone, he's fucking out of here. He can't handle this shit, and he can't handle being reminded of his childhood, and he can't handle the slightly-crumpled picture in his hand, and he certainly can't handle people casting aspersions on Mello. As if he'd ever stoop so low as to be with someone like Mail.

As if. As if.

He stomps savagely to the door, his head spinning.

"I have a message for you," Roper says, loudly. "Are you listening, L?"

"L?" Raye asks, bewildered. "What? Hold on a second, M. I thought she didn't know who we worked for."

"I don't fuckin' care!"

"No, seriously," Raye insists. "Does…does her expression look strange to you?"

"I dunno!" Mail snaps, whirling on his heel to shoot his colleague a final, wrathful glare. "She always looks spaced out. Leave me alone!"

"Again, I have a message for you," Roper repeats. "L. Are you listening? This is not a game. You will lose."

Raye already has his phone out, frantically dialling L. He always panics too soon, the stupid bastard.

"I think you need to hear this," he gabbles. "Roper's gone weird."

"People are going to keep dying, L," the girl continues, eyes blank, voice low and ethereal. "Perhaps even people who do not deserve to die. And they are suffering because you refuse to surrender."

Okay, so maybe it isn't too soon to panic.

"It's Kimiko," Mail says, softly, awed. "She's controlling her. Which means. Fuck. Roper."

He has the presence of mind to hit the 'record' button on the control panel. There might be clues in the message. Maybe.

"The only thing I really want is you," Roper says distantly. "If you hand yourself over now, you will save a lot of lives. That's what you like to do, isn't it?"

"Dear god," L murmurs, voice emanating from the phone still clutched in Raye's hand.

"If you take yourself back to this dear little girl's house, you will find that it is now under thorough camera surveillance. You may go there if you wish to surrender, at any time. I have a learned friend who will inform me if it is the real you. Anyone you send on your behalf will be immediately killed. .

"That must be her blasted Shinigami," Raye grits. "Damn those things!"

"But if you're feeling hesitant, I just want you to know that I'm about to up the ante," Roper drones. "You have fifteen days left, during which I will remain at my current killing rate. After that, the number of criminals killed per day will double. And then triple. Quadruple. The population may never recover. And you don't want that, do you, L?"

L and that Naomi lady burst into the room, and Mail sees the Shinigami appear in the interrogation room proper, next to Roper's dangling form.

"Is there anything we can do?" the lady asks frantically.

"No," L says softly, shuffling sadly over to the desk.

"You don't want another life on your hands, I'm sure," Roper says, with an uncharacteristically feral smirk.

And then she shudders, just once, as if electrified, and sags.

"You took too long, L," the skeleton announces accusingly. "She is dead."

tbc

a/n:

+ I am stuck, again. no matter what I do, I can't seem to get the next chapter into shape. I apologise for this, and I apologise if I can't make my weekly update next sunday.

+ thank you so much for reading.