Frantic puffing and the flames engulfing Near's marshmallow only flared brighter.
"You're impossible." Mello leaned over and annihilated the mini inferno with one short poof. Then he plucked off the burned portion to leave the foamy white center for Near. Matt had once pointed out that this ritual was like that of any ancient married couple's regarding food and had received a black eye for giving voice to a truth so obvious. Mello happily crunched his ash-flavored crust and Near swallowed white goop and Matt wiggled his eyebrows at both, not minding that he was blatantly ignored. Once Mello started reddening (oh, so he had noticed) Matt turned back to his DS.
"Uh, L, Yagami's in the woods."
L visibly stiffened.
Near blinked. "You didn't think he'd try to find him this soon?"
"Near, please don't speak." L popped in another marshmallow, wiped his hands on his jeans, and stood. "I'll need that, Matt." L snapped open his cell.
"He's close to the mews," Matt said as he handed the DS over.
"Thanks. Mello, stay here." With that, L disappeared into the trees. "Watari, I need you to pick me up on the south road..."
"Fine then," Mello growled at L's diminishing form, "go save your princess all by yourself, GET MAULED FOR SOMEONE WHO–"
"Mihael," sighed Matt.
Mello decided that the best use of the adrenaline coursing through his veins was kicking Matt in the ribs. Near watched them wrestle around the fire pit until Mello bashed his face into a log when Matt flipped him. The battle continued after a brief spell of rushed apologies and Mello staring into nothing, and Mello won by forcing Matt's jaws open and letting his bloody nose drip into the best friend's mouth.
Near looked appalled at such a victory and that was exactly why they did it.
After two hours of aimless wandering Light was lost, exasperated, and had the full intention of dying in the woods to spite L. It had been his own decision to footle through the forestry half-naked, and encounter swarms of insects and spiderwebs that didn't catch the moonlight until one's face was halfway through them, and he wouldn't complain about that, but he was irked that Beyond wasn't in this area of the camp. Growing nauseous from hunger Light turned onto a gravel road that must, eventually, lead back to one he was familiar with.
Oh, there was the archery range.
And there in the distance was L, shuffling along as if finding lost counselors was the dullest thing he could ever be burdened with. In the darkness his white shirt stood out like a flag of surrender.
"That took awhile," Light yelled. He waited, letting L catch up to him.
"I told you," L said, looking almost exasperated, "to never go anywhere by yourself. And you would have learned nothing from B. Maybe how to best inflict pain on others–" the tip of his thumb disappeared into that mouth "–but not what you were looking for. I trusted you when I took off the handcuffs and I shouldn't have." The melancholic sympathy that glittered behind his onyx eyes was ignored in barely checked self-control because at the moment Light wasn't very far from snapping. So Light said nothing, keeping himself obedient to the plan he'd formed in case this happened, hands thrust into pockets and toeing at the gravel like any lectured child.
"Even though you're safe with me, B is most dangerous at night and I'd like to get back to camp as quickly as possible." L began walking back towards the direction he'd come from.
"The campsite is south-west and that's north-west."
L stilled and turned to look at Light with a shy little smile. "You're very pretty, Light-kun."
Light was chilled to his marrow, watching the smile grow wider, and wider, and wider...
Before a ploy could even surface in Light's panicking mind Beyond Birthday tackled him and boxed Light's ears until he was a quivering wreck, lying bleeding beneath him on the road. Then B grabbed Light's wrist to wrench him upright and Light, somehow through the pain, remembered that L didn't smell like strawberries. L had a clean, sharp, androgynous smell, and he didn't walk as hunched as B did, and L had a mole on the inside of his wrist...Too full of self-hatred to speak, Light kept silent. B's grip was going to bruise and unless he willingly desired more pain there was no way Light was going to attempt an escape.
Why had he wanted to run, for the briefest second? Instinct, came the realization.
"Where are we going now?"
"The lodge."
"What are you going to do to me?" He couldn't bring himself to look at the face that was L's and not L's (it was broader, and the eyes had a sheen to them that varied between pooled blood and dark chocolate; it made Light's stomach convulse).
"Make you happy like he would."
"How?" Light pretended his voice wasn't shaking.
"Make you happy. He hasn't made you very happy but he wants to."
"I think it would make him happy if you let me go."
"No, he'd be happier if you ran away from me." The cracked smile showed too many teeth and Light grew more nauseous.
On reaching the lodge (and how was L ever to find him since Light and discovered and removed his tracker some hours ago?), B led Light to the basement, and tied Light to a chair that was all red velvet plush and dust. He turned on a few broken lamps before returning to crouch in front of Light until the two were eye level.
"Please don't move, Light-kun. I'll be right back with food. You haven't eaten since breakfast." But B didn't leave. He watched Light's face and drew a line from Light's temple to the corner of his mouth with one boney knuckle. "So pretty," B whispered. "So smart. I'll be nice." Then he giggled and ran up a flight of steps hidden from Light's line of sight.
Light threw up over an armrest and closed his eyes, trying to not breathe in the smell of stomach acid and raspberry syrup. He opened them when there was harsh clattering and several thumps as B fell down the stairs in his eagerness to get back to Light and Light flinched as a harsh wail broke through the room.
"I'm okay, I'm okay," B chanted until Light heard his breathing slow, and then he appeared carrying a tray with a white paper bag on it. "I brought you food," he mumbled, face still red from crying. "You haven't eaten since breakfast, yes?"
Light didn't answer.
One scrawny hand reached into the bag and drew out a squashed doughnut. "Here," he muttered, holding it up to Light's mouth. Now in artificial light it was apparent that Beyond was scrawnier than L. He was mangy and lean, a forgotten and despised stray cat.
Light tried to smile. "Why don't you eat it?"
B dropped the doughnut back into the bag. "No," he said, "I'm not allowed, I'm not allowed to eat now. I can't eat until he eats." B chewed him thumb bloody and stared. "You should eat. L wants you to eat so you can be happy."
Obviously winning Beyond's sympathy was not the way out of this.
"Okay."
B shoved the doughnut, stained pink with blood, into Light's mouth. Light gagged and B shuffled back a few feet in such perfect imitation of L that Light was almost fooled and reality distorted.
"I'm sorry. He doesn't want to hurt you, you're so pretty and I said he would be careful."
Light spat out most of the doughnut and shook his head, trying to quell the fear that was slowly turning to panic again. "That's okay, just feed me small bites, okay? Okay? You can do that, I know you could. He could."
"Yes," B nodded, and reached into the bag again. He tore another doughnut into small chunks this time and painstakingly placed them into Light's open mouth. Light's hunger headache was satiated but the sugar was making him shake and would only make him hungrier before long.
"Um, do you have any food that isn't…" He didn't know how to finish politely.
B nodded and reached into the bag again, pulling out a grilled cheese sandwich that looked somewhat fresh. Light wondered if that had been on the mess hall menu today. B fed him that too, and Light froze while chewing the last bite when B leaned down and kissed his forehead. "So pretty," he murmured, staring at Light with hazy eyes. Blushing, B traced circles on the floor with a filthy toe.
"L...L doesn't want to kiss me, B."
"Yes he does."
"No. He's never even..." Light felt the ghost of a finger trace down his back. "He's never even flirted with me." I think. "I don't think L would tie me up, either."
"You're right, but I don't want you to run away."
"I won't."
"Yes you will. You're scared of me and I beat you up. I'm hoping after awhile Stockholm Syndrome comes though. You're pretty. I want to touch your hair. He wants to, too."
That blindly justified belief gave B permission to gently tangle his fingers through Light's hair and grip. "It's very soft because you're perfect. I have to go," he said suddenly, and dashed out of the room. Light heard the bottom stair creak and then all was silent.
"I know you're there," Light whispered.
Wild chuckles, dark and low. Light didn't breathe.
Light tensed as B came into view again, hands in his pockets. He'd returned to his form as ersatz L with all the numbing, distant, calculated coolness of the boy he worshipped and again, Light was almost fooled.
"So you came to me to try to understand L."
Light's heart fluttered and he thought that all was right and escape in some form or another had just leered in his face with a few tempting options in hand. "Yeah. I..."
"You want to take over the camp."
"I...no...well...not in a way that would hurt L. Or you."
"But you did hurt L." B touched the constellation of blood flecking Light's shirt, his own teeth splitting his lip.
"I lost control of myself."
"Oh," B whispered, voice sarcastic. "Don't we all?"
Then a chunk of brick was in his hand, quick, and Light had no time to think before it collided with the side of his head.
He awoke in a flood of light from the Aston, a stiff lump in the middle of a forgotten road, some fifteen miles from camp. He was slightly conscious and clawed at L when the latter gently rolled him over and assessed the physical damage: coagulated blood in one ear, a nasty lump on the side of his head, no broken bones. L plodded back to the car once Light made clear he was able to stand, seething.
An angry scream followed him as he walked.
"Show me your wrist," was the first thing Light said to L when the blur that was his surroundings focused enough for him to find his voice. He eased carefully to sitting upright; his whole body was sore and his inner ear throbbed so heavily the pain went through his neck.
L held out his arm, other hand gripping the steering wheel. There was the mole.
"Why didn't you find me right away? Aren't you a detective?"
"B is excellent at being traceless," L glared, shoving a water bottle into Light's chest. "Drink all of this before we park." He hoped the next sentence from Light's lips wouldn't include words strung together to make bits of sentences like, pressing charges, or leaving at once, but it did not.
"I refuse to work here another day until that monster's locked up."
Ah. That, that he could deal with.
"I hate you." Then Light burst into tears.
If this seems out of form let it the boy's experiences be evaluated. Coming from monotonous, though safe, normalcy, in the space of less than forty-eight hours he had been abused, manipulated, tortured by a psychopath, subjected to physical pain, and was still exhausted and hungry. In all, his present actions were not the device of some plot. He'd finally broken.
When L came to this conclusion Light had taken three angry sips of water and was resting his head against the car window.
Soothingly cool fingers brushed Light's bangs aside, untangling them from wet eyelashes. Light shuddered still at the touch.
"Stop. Do you think I'll cooperate now?"
"Will you?"
"No."
"Light. Are you listening to me?"
Light turned to glare at L, weary, frustrated. In the dimness of the car Light's eyes and hair were reduced to burnt umber and L wondered if Light would look any more perfect if he'd been less aware of it.
"I'm only going to say this once."
Light nodded.
"I hate losing just as much as you do."
Another nod, bleary eyes now cold with gathering rage.
"And what you've begun won't stop."
"Understood."
"But I didn't bring you here to make you my enemy."
"We're natural rivals," snorted Light. "Give me three weeks and Wammy's will be mine."
L rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand, emitting a sigh that smelled like powdered sugar. "Fine. Starting tomorrow I'll only keep my duties as detective and all my functions relating to Wammy's will be yours."
"You're serious?"
L chewed on the pad of his pinky. "For one week. You can't forfeit."
"Deal."
L resisted laughing at the malevolent smile beaming across from him.