A/N: Yay, new chapter! *celebrates* This one's a long one, too! Also...I quite like it. XD Dramadramadramadramadrama and you'll probably kill me. Yay. :)
Again, line breaks were deleted, sorry if I missed any when replacing them... *sigh* What's FF's problem with them?
Also...best response EVER to the last chapter! Thank you so much:
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and PenguinxHero! So...many... *_* I got eleven reviews for one chapter! ELEVEN. *freaks out* That probably isn't that much for most people, but it is for me, okay? Give me another eleven this time too...? *hopeful puppy eyes*
Disclaimer: Death Note n 1: A supernatural notebook belonging to a shinigami or God of Death that has the ability, when an individual's name is written in it, to kill that individual. 2: A manga and anime by Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata following a young man's discovery of such a notebook. See also: Not mine.
Chapter 13: Purgatory
She was staring at him again, as she always had.
Her eyes – wide, blue orbs that seemed to be made out of little pieces of sky – gazed at him out of a porcelain face, framed by flaxen hair.
So normal, so ordinary...
Yet so different this time.
Misa pressed the gun into his hand.
"Kill me," she whispered.
Light awoke with a gasp, lurching upright and sprinting to his en suite bathroom, where he retched painful quantities of nothing into the toilet bowl. After his stomach had finished roiling and churning, he stood up shakily and splashed his face with cool water at the sink, scrubbing at his eyes as if to scour the image from the backs of his lids.
Remembering again, he had to collapse into a ball on the tiled floor, fighting to breathe normally. He could practically feel the repulsive metal of the gun in his palm.
"Light-kun?"
Light froze, silently cursing his guardian's insomnia and acute hearing. L couldn't see him like this. Not again.
He heard the soft padding of L's feet on the floor, the distinctive noise they made when they left the tiles, as if the floor was slightly tacky.
L didn't touch him, only sat on the closed toilet seat, looking at Light and waiting for him to calm down. He'd tried to touch him once before, the first time Light had been in a state like this. The fracture in his hand hadn't healed for weeks.
Slowly, Light returned to reality, unfurled his body and heaved himself into a sitting position, looking up at L.
"Do you want to talk about it?" L asked mildly, his voice not betraying any emotion, and yet it wasn't so painfully blank as always.
Light shook his head. L certainly already knew what his nightly visions tortured him with; he didn't need to hear it from Light's own lips as well.
L only nodded, having expected the answer. "Are you ready to go back to bed, then?"
Light hesitated, before inclining his head in affirmation. He wouldn't sleep again for hours, of course, but the promise of soft sheets sounded pleasant.
L held out his hand, as was ritual between them, and, following their custom, Light completely ignored it and stood up himself.
L trailed after Light as he strode to the bed, flopped onto it and pulled the covers up to his ears.
Now L would exit the room, leaving Light alone with his fear and his weakness and the dark and the silence, just as he always did.
Light was surprised enough to sit up again when he instead felt the psychologist seat himself on the mattress, perching in his odd way as his hands rested upon his knees.
"Lie down, Light-kun, you should relax," the man told him, looking at him from behind his shaggy mess of hair with eyes so different to those others he saw every night.
Light obeyed, mechanically lying down again, but not bothering to cover his bare chest with the duvet. L observed him speculatively, taking in his usually tanned torso, now bleached by the moonlight.
"I keep noticing how adult you've become recently," L told him softly, idly drawing an invisible pattern onto his knee. "Did you always look like this?"
"Yes." Light spoke his first word of the night in a tone of acid. "You just never saw."
"I see everything, Light-kun, and you did not look this grown when you first came to me," L said, biting his thumb.
Light narrowed his eyes. "You mean when you first came to me. I wasn't exactly in a position to go anywhere at that point in time," he reminded L sarcastically, remembering the cold concrete of the prison cell and how L's face, so unfamiliar at the time, had looked from behind the bars.
L smiled slightly, but it faded just as fast as it appeared. "That is true."
"What did you think of me back then?" Light asked on a whim, "When I was in such a pathetic state, seeing ghosts of the past everywhere?"
L considered. That was one, if the only, thing that Light appreciated about L: he always took his questions seriously.
Finally, the psychologist opened his mouth, extracting his thumb. "You were interesting. A thing of uniqueness that was different from all the other patients I had studied."
"So I was nothing more than a challenge?" Light asked bitterly. He regretted asking the initial question in the first place.
"You were nothing more than a challenge," L affirmed, his eyes still staring into Light's own.
Light rolled over, breaking the eye contact. He refused to let L see the pain of his weather-worn heart in his face.
"However, you are more than just a challenge now."
Light swallowed thickly, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be left alone. "You don't need to lie for my sake. I don't care. It's better like this anyway." Why did it sound like he was attempting to convince himself?
He felt and heard L shift on the bed, drawing closer and leaning over the teen. Light clamped his eyes shut.
"I am not lying, Light-kun. You are still exceedingly interesting to me, yes, but there is a connection between us now. I wonder...is this what parents feel for their offspring?"
Light suddenly grabbed a fistful of L's shirt, jerking the man forward until there were mere inches separating their faces.
"I am not your child," he hissed, furious.
L blinked. "I realise that, Light-kun. But I theorise that I hold emotions towards you that a parent would to th–"
Light slammed his fist into L's face as hard as he could, the force sending the psychologist flying backwards, off the bed.
"Go away!" he screamed, scrambling away from the man, "Leave me alone!"
L got up, still testing his jaw tentatively with long-fingered hands. "Light-kun is getting closer and closer to his breaking point," he stated as he reached the door.
"Shut up!" Light buried his head under the pillow, refusing to let L see his tears of rage.
He heard the door click shut.
Sobbing noiselessly and curling into a ball for the second time that night, Light surrendered himself to the inevitable images of Misa's blood-soaked body, and L nursing his bruised cheek.
Is this my punishment?
Matt took a luxuriously long draft of his overly-sweetened coffee, ignoring the way it steamed up his goggles. It was nice to finally have time to dawdle in the mornings again.
"Why do you wear those stupid things inside, anyway?" Mello walked into the kitchen, bare-chested, with a towel hung around his shoulders.
Matt tried to pass off the blush as heat from his drink. "I like them," he said simply, "They make everything look more friendly."
Mello snorted a laugh. "Uh huh? What, you like orange then?"
Matt nodded, slurping his coffee again.
"It clashes with your hair," Mello informed him helpfully.
"Thanks, Mels. What doesn't clash with my hair?"
Mello thought about it. "That's a good question, actually. Probably a colour that isn't in the visible spectrum."
Matt chuckled, used to this kind of teasing by now. "Probably."
"Actually –" Mello grabbed his chin, raising Matt's face to see it properly and slipping the googles down to hang around the redhead's neck.
Matt blinked at the sunlight in Mello's hair, wondering whether the real Sun could ever be that radiant.
"Ice blue."
The words startled him. "Huh?"
"Ice blue," Mello repeated. "Your hair would look good with a pale ice blue."
"Like your eyes?" Matt blurted out before he could stop himself.
Mello looked surprised. "Huh?" He mimicked Matt's words of a moment ago.
"Never mind," Matt muttered hurriedly, trying to pull away from Mello's hand, which was still grasping his chin.
Mello held on. "You think we match?" he asked ambiguously.
Matt was unsure of what to say. "Uh...yes? No? Maybe?"
Mello rolled his eyes, afterwards pressing a joking kiss to Matt's temple. "Stop being such a dumbass. You know what I think goes particularly well with blond hair?" he asked teasingly.
Matt shook his head, not trusting his voice.
"Green."
At exactly ten to seven in the evening, Mello and Matt walked into the investigation room. Near was already seated on the floor in front of a large screen, but strangely, L and Light weren't there yet.
"Do you live in here or something?" Mello asked coldly, addressing the white-haired boy.
Near gave him a look and replied, "Actually, I stay on the fifth floor."
Matt frowned. "What, all by yourself?" When he looked back on it, it seemed a stupid question, but the floors were so large and Near was so not.
"Yes, Matt, by myself." Near idly pushed a solitary toy train around its track.
It suddenly struck Matt that Near must be the loneliest person on the planet.
Mello seemed untroubled, sprawled in a chair at the metal table. "Where're L and Light?" he asked.
Near shrugged. "They seem to be late. They should be here in a minute or two."
And indeed, they were, but their arrival only served to make Matt more concerned.
Light looked haggard and drawn, the bags under his weary eyes rivalling L's. The man himself was sporting a colourful bruise on his cheek that seemed to be almost as large as Mello's burn.
"Fucking hell," Mello declared. "What happened to you two?"
Light didn't answer, making to his seat next to Matt. The redhead took in his sallow complexion with a worried glance. It appeared Light had suffered through a very bad night indeed.
"I walked into a door," was L's obvious lie, the psychologist not even bothering to make up a good one.
Mello gave him an odd look, but dropped it. "Whatever. So, are we gonna call this guy or what?"
"Shouldn't we plan what to say first?" Matt suggested, leaning his forearms on the tabletop. "What do we want him to do?"
"We should not give him the address of the building," Near said, "If he manages to give our location to his managers, we would be in a very undesirable position indeed."
"Agreed." L nodded, fishing a boiled sweet out of his pocket. He unwrapped it and put it in his mouth. "Mello, do you know of any places close to here that are frequently used for illegal activities?"
Mello thought for a bit, then nodded. "There's a certain alleyway about ten minutes away from here by foot; drugs change hands there a lot, as well as whores."
"Then we shall give him directions to that alley, then blindfold him and drive him here," L planned. "However, it would be best if you stayed inside for this particular mission, Mello. Your face is hard to forget, and we do not want any rumours of your actions spreading throughout the underworld; it may blow our cover."
Mello scowled, but thankfully saw reason. "Fine, fine. Who'll go, then? Near would be laughed out of the city if he set a foot in that place, and Light looks a bit too weak and rape-able."
The brunet frowned at that, looking offended. "I can take care of myself," he said emphatically, his accent becoming more pronounced in his earnest.
Mello only smirked. "Sure."
Light seemed about to retort, probably with something less than polite, so Matt stepped in. "It wouldn't be right to have you go to such a dangerous place, Light, you're still under eighteen."
"Only just," Light grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest.
"This is not subjective, Light-kun. You will not be venturing on this mission." The finality in L's voice effectively ended the conversation.
Light didn't seem pleased, scowling and biting his lip. He was in an exceedingly bad mood today, Matt observed.
"So who will bring the target here, then?" Near enquired, his voice quiet in the sudden silence.
All eyes turned to Matt.
"Oh, hell no."
All eyes turned to Mello.
"Matt's in no way suited to this either! He's never set foot in a place like that before; they'd eat him alive!" the blond declared, gesturing with his hands as if to illustrate exactly how Matt would be brutally murdered.
Matt decided to pipe up. "Actually, I have set foot in a place like that before. Once. I regretted it," he informed his room-mate.
Mello's eyes narrowed. "Why'd you regret it?" He was obviously expecting the worst, and planning to beat the shit out of whatever guy had assaulted him.
Matt smirked. "I picked you up. Messed up my life for the rest of time, that did."
Mello visibly relaxed, leaning back in his chair again. "Yeah, get over it. So, I think I've made my point clear: Matt ain't going. It'll have to be you, L. Or one of Near's lackeys."
"It isn't fair to forbid Matt from taking part in the mission just because Mello is overprotective of him," Near stated calmly.
Mello nearly vaulted over the table in his effort to strangle the boy. "I'm not overprotective!" he yelled, marching over to where Near sat. Matt grabbed the back of his leather vest, holding him back.
"Calm down, Mels, Near's just teasing." Though really, the words 'Near' and 'teasing' shouldn't have been in the same sentence. "But he's sort of right, you know. There's not really any reason why I shouldn't be able to do this. It's fairly simple, right? Just grab the guy, stick him in the car and drive."
"There's a bit more finesse in it than that." Though Mello's back was to the redhead, Matt could hear the eye-roll in his voice.
"Matt-kun is right," L said, "Despite his dubious dress-sense, he doesn't really stand out from the crowd. If he wore different clothes for this, no individual would look at him twice."
"Gevanni and Rester could act as back-up," Near offered, earning him a glare from a luckily still-restrained Mello.
"Excellent. It's decided, then." L crunched his boiled sweet. "Matt-kun, accompanied by Gevanni and Commander Rester, will collect the target from the specified meeting point. Now we need to telephone the target and make certain he will be at the meeting point himself."
"Leave that to me." The grin on Mello's face was nothing short of petrifying. "Now that is my speciality."
"What, threatening people?" Matt asked blandly.
"Got it in one. What was the name of the person he made most calls to again?"
"Simon Rey," Matt answered automatically. He'd traced the phone's call history the night before.
"Great, we'll use him. That should be decent enough blackmail."
Matt knew it was irrational, but he suddenly felt really sorry for the unsuspecting receptionist.
Mello was sitting in front of the microphone that would scramble his voice, ready to 'persuade' their target to stroll into the lion's den. A hollow ringing sounded through the investigation room as the group waited for the line to be picked up.
Soon enough, it was. "Hello, this is Liam Mooring."
"Hello," Mello said pleasantly, knowing full well that the voice scrambler would make it sound nightmarish.
There was a silence on the other end, signifying the man's obvious confusion.
"Excuse me?" he said finally, "Is this some kind of prank?"
"'Fraid not," Mello told him, "Don't hang up, answer my questions and don't piss me off. Are you alone?"
"Yes."
"You lying to me?" Matt was sure Mello could tell whether the man was lying or not by his voice alone, so the blond must have been utilising some intimidation technique, Matt theorised.
"No, no, I'm not!" the voiced sounded a lot more panicked all of a sudden.
"Well then, I have something here that you'll probably be very interested in," Mello continued.
There was a pause. "What?"
"Does the name 'Simon Rey' mean anything to you?" The smirk on Mello's face grew wider.
Another silence. Then: "What the hell have you done to him, you bastard?!"
"Nothing, nothing," Mello assured him. "Yet," he added.
"I swear, if you hurt one hair on his head, I'll go to the police and –"
"Ah ah ah," Mello cautioned, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. It'd be a shame if your little boyfriend suffered a horrible accident, now wouldn't it?"
"Let him go!"
"I will, don't worry."
"Huh?"
Mello chuckled. "I'll let him go, completely unharmed, but under one condition."
"What's the condition?"
"You bring me something that I need."
Matt could hear Mooring swallowing. "What do you need?"
"Nothing much, just a few grand," Mello said lightly.
"So that's what this is all about, huh? Typical. I'll go to the ATM and withdraw th–"
"No withdrawing, please," Mello interrupted, "It can be traced."
"But I don't have that much money in cash!"
"Oh, dear, that's a shame. Your whore's such a pretty one too..." Mello enunciated the words slowly, making sure there was no room for misunderstanding.
"Wait, no! I don't have a thousand quid on me, but I have a few hundred! I can bring you that and pay the rest later!" the man said hurriedly, tripping over his own words.
Matt saw Light's posture relax slightly next to him. Everything was going to plan.
Mello paused, feigning consideration. "Alright, then, that's fair. Tell you what, you bring the money and I'll bring you a picture of your boyfriend so you know he's okay. That sound good to you?"
"Yes, fine! Where do I bring the money?"
"Do you know Pencheth Road?"
"Yes. Do I bring it there?"
"No, if you're entering on the east side, it's the fifth right. Don't bring a car, and don't bring anyone with you or tell anybody about this between now and then. I can assure you that if you do so, little Simon won't be having a very happy time," Mello informed him cheerily.
"Don't hurt him, please!"
"We've already gone through this. Do everything I tell you and he'll be fine. Now shouldn't you get going? I'm known for being quite an impatient person."
Too true, Matt agreed.
"Fine, I'll be there in a few minutes, as quick as I can!"
"It better be."
Mello hung up, turned around in his chair and looked smug. "Feel free to worship me."
They all ignored him.
"Matt-kun, you need to leave now. Take one of Near's cars, they're less noticeable than yours."
"Gevanni, Rester."
"Yes sir?"
"Take Matt to the garage, and make sure he does not come to any harm during the mission."
"Yes sir."
"Take care, Matt."
"I'll be fine, Light, what could possibly go wrong?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, don't say that! It's the one phrase that's completely certain to jinx everything!"
"Never took you for a superstitious guy, Mels."
"Fuck off."
"Fucking off! Come on guys, let's go kidnap some gay receptionists!"
"Yes sir."
"Please don't call me sir, it makes me feel old."
"Yes sir."
Matt waited in the alleyway, leaning against the wall and watching the clouds his breath made in the cold air. He noticed a heavily made-up, skimpily-dressed and freezing-looking woman checking him out and carefully avoided making eye contact.
He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his black hoodie, fingering his trusty (though unused) flick knife. It was the same one he'd been carrying when he'd discovered Mello for the first time, he recalled idly.
Suddenly, sharp footsteps broke the frozen silence, scaring away the prostitute and startling Matt. He looked up to see the silhouette of who he assumed to be the receptionist they were blackmailing walking briskly towards him.
The man pattered up to stand in front of him, a safe distance back, but close enough that Matt could see the terror on his face and the sweat on his brow.
"Are you the person who's got Simon?" the man who was evidently Liam Mooring asked, his voice sticking slightly.
"Yup." Matt said simply, sticking to his old habit of saying as little as possible that he had formed in his hacking days.
"How is he?"
"Fine."
A short silence.
"Here's the money." Mooring handed him an envelope that wasn't overly fat, but still large enough to hold a couple of hundred pounds. "I'll bring the rest at a later point during the week. Where's the picture?" he asked anxiously, snatching his hands away from the envelope as Matt took it.
Matt handed him a Post-It with a crudely-drawn stick man on it.
Mooring stared at it blankly. "Is this a joke?"
Matt grinned. "Yes."
The man barely got a chance to open his mouth again before Gevanni and Rester were upon him, forcing him into painful-looking full-Nelsons and headlocks, somehow simultaneously gagging, binding and blindfolding him.
They were really quite skilled; Matt could barely hear the panicked noises Mooring was making.
The three of them managed to bundle the struggling man into the sizeable boot, then ran to their assigned seats: Matt slid into the passenger seat while Rester turned the keys in the ignition and Gevanni slammed the back door shut.
They raced away at a speed that Matt was sure a forty-something year old man should not be hitting.
When they reached the headquarters, which really wasn't after a very long time at all, Matt swallowed his motion sickness and jumped out of the death-trap again. He assisted Rester and Gevanni in hauling the reluctant victim through the sliding doors, receiving a polished shoe to the face for his trouble.
When they finally reached the door leading to the investigation room, Matt gratefully left Mooring to Gevanni and Rester, escaping through the entryway.
L looked up. "What happened to your face?" he asked, mildly curious.
"I walked into a door," Matt told him.
Mello snorted, and Light smiled lightly. Near showed no emotion whatsoever, but Matt concluded that was his equivalent of rib-cracking laughter.
"Touché," Mello said, still grinning. "Is it okay, though?"
Matt shrugged. "I think it's just a bruise. He's a feisty one."
"Yes, that is evident."
At first, Matt thought Near was actually displaying sarcasm, but then realised that the large screen on the wall was showing live footage of Gevanni and Rester heaving a viciously struggling Mooring into something that looked rather like a dentist's chair, complete with restraints.
Rester wiped his brow, removing Mooring's gag, while Gevanni turned on the microphone. "Near, do you read me?"
"Yes, that is fine, Gevanni. He and Rester may leave now," the white-haired boy said.
"Yes sir." They exited the room.
"Where am I?!" Mooring demanded, fighting against his bonds. "What is this?! Where's Simon?!""
"You are being held by the SPK for investigation purposes," L told him, leaning into the microphone in front of him.
Mooring froze. "Investigation?"
"Yes. The company you work for, Four-Field, is under serious suspicion of illegal activity," L informed him.
"What? That's ridiculous!"
"We shall see. Now, have you heard anything from anyone that could possibly suggest that Four-Field is involved in any criminal activity?"
"No!"
"His denial's vehement," Mello said, at a safe distance from the microphone, "A bit too vehement."
L nodded in agreement. "Please tell the truth, Mr Mooring."
"I am telling the truth! Now tell me where Simon is!"
"Simon Rey is perfectly safe and has no idea of what is occurring. We were never holding him in the first place."
Mooring went still. "You have got to be kidding me."
"I am afraid not, Mr Mooring. Now, please answer my previous question truthfully," L requested, ever polite.
Mooring looked hesitant, even with his eyes shielded. "If I tell you, will you let me go?"
"I can promise you that, Mr Mooring, but I am afraid we will have to make sure you hand in your notice at your job and never speak a word of this to anyone."
The man debated the advantages and disadvantages, before sighing in defeat. "Fine, I'll tell you all I know. But you have to let me go afterwards!"
"I have already given you my word, Mr Mooring," L reminded him patiently. "What have you heard about Four-Field?"
"A...a couple of years into my job there, I overheard a discussion between some of the higher-ups. They were talking about drugs, and supplies of it and the like. I was discovered to have heard the conversation, and they threatened me with making me redundant and ruining my life if I ever breathed a word of it to anyone. Since then, they've occasionally trusted me to handle the paperwork about some drug dealings, but only once or twice. That's all," he finished morosely.
L frowned. "Do you know what kind of drugs Four-Field was dealing with?"
"Some form of opium? I don't know."
"And have you heard anything that could possibly link Four-Field to abduction of children?"
"What?! No! I would have gone to the police if it was anything as serious as that, I swear!"
Matt stopped breathing. What?
L blinked in surprise. "Nothing at all? Not in the paperwork you were given?"
"No, nothing! Do you suspect them of those kidnapping cases in the papers?" Mooring asked desperately.
"That is none of your concern," L answered bluntly. "Do you know of any connections Four-Field might have to another illegal group?"
Mooring thought for a while. "I...I think so. There were a few names, but I can't remember all of them."
"One will be enough, Mr Mooring."
"Then...there were a lot of documents about drug trading with a group called Palm."
Matt could have sworn he heard every heart in the room stop.
"Palm?" L asked eventually, his voice betraying his disbelief.
"Yeah. Four-Field traded a lot of opium with them."
"...I see," L said quietly.
Matt looked at Mello. The blond was staring at the screen in shock, his mouth slightly open as if he'd just been punched in the stomach.
"Mels?" he whispered quietly.
"I shall start investigating transactions between Four-Field and Palm immediately," Near stated, shuffling quickly over to a separate computer and typing hurriedly.
L bit his thumb before asking Mooring another question. "Do you know the names of the main administrators of Four-Field?"
"Yes, Mikami Teru and Takada Kiyomi. The company started out in Japan," he said as way of explanation for the foreign names.
"We were aware of that," L told him. "Is there anything else you know?"
Mooring shook his head. "No, nothing, I swear. Can I go now?"
L nodded, though Mooring wouldn't have been able to see even if the psychologist had been standing right in front of him. "You will be escorted to your house. Do not speak of this to anyone, and hand in your notice first thing tomorrow, do you understand?"
"Yes, yes! I won't say anything!"
"Good." L turned off the microphone. They watched in silence as Gevanni reappeared to release Mooring and escort him out, still blindfolded.
Near's soft voice broke the hush. "There are records of opium transactions between Palm and Four-Field in the weeks starting 9th of May, 2011; 6th of June, 2011; 27th of June, 2011; 18th of July, 2011; 15th of August, 2011; 5th and 26th of September, 2011; 14th of November, 2011."
Mello swore under his breath, putting his head in his hands.
"What is it, Mello?" L asked, looking at the blond.
"I did raids close to most of those times, except the ones in June and November. In October, I fucked up; that's why I got kicked out, and why there wasn't a transaction that month." Mello looked up at them, and Matt felt his heart wail at how old and tired the blond suddenly looked.
Mello sighed heavily, massaging his temples. "I guess it's pretty obvious, then. Four-Field's involved with the kidnappings, but not directly guilty. They've been getting Palm to supply them with opium, probably to drug the kids and make them docile. They're in it together, and I've been helping them."
"You didn't know," Light whispered.
Mello sneered. "As if that makes any difference. I've effectively abducted twenty-odd children, drugged them and used them for God knows what horrible ends."
"Mels, it's not your fault," Matt broke in, realising how close to breaking the blond was.
"Save it," Mello said coldly. He stood up and walked out of the door. "I'll be in my room. Call me when it's time for me to go to jail," he said without turning around.
No one stopped him.
A/N: SEMI-CLIFFHANGER! ...sorry.
So, yeah. Plot twist, anyone? I love writing this...I never got to do cliffhangerrs or stuff before (because I never wrote anything with a plot), so I'm sort of going crazy when it comes to this. Funn...
Please please please review, and remember the 100 reviews competition! Though the winner'll probably have to wait quite a while for their oneshot. I have exams soon, and they last until the end of June, so yeah. :/ Sorries. But review anyway! XD