A/N: So this chapter is a bit longer. I reckon it's probably going to be one of the saddest chapters in the story, so don't get too bummed heh.

By the way, Light and L are going to be very OOC right now, so just keep that in mind. Okay so, read, review and enjoy!

"Do you believe in God's existence?"

Light chuckled and lifted his arm, tracing the stars painted across the sky. "Christ, Lawli, don't ask me shit like that when I'm plastered. I can't think straight. All I know is that if God exists, we better start believin'."

They lay under the night sky, staring into the infinite space above them. Nights like this were poetic. The stars consumed the sky, even the full moon was no comparison to the twinkling lights. The hushed winds from across the world itched at the back of his neck. Nights like this reminded Light how insignificant he was. But, he knew one day, he would make a difference. Everyone thought so. Especially Lawliet. Even if neither of them even mattered to anyone else, they would always be vital to one another.

For thirteen years they had relied on one another for everything; entertainment, comfort, advice. They would dream about riding away from the crappy, dry town that only sheltered them and explore the vast world, with so much to offer. Maybe they would become cowboys. Light nearly laughed imagining Lawliet riding on a galloping horse with a hat perched firmly on his head. Lawliet was too scrawny to be a vicious cowboy. The two had never meant a true cowboy or a bandit, but they had heard stories. Before Light's father became the Sheriff, apparently this was a horror town. Light was so bored that he partly wished it still was.

"Want another drink?" Lawliet muttered.

"Yeah."

The fire cracked, its embers twisted through the air. The stench of bad baked beans and stale whiskey smelt sweet to Light's accustomed nose. Lawliet handed him the jug of moonshine, which Light chugged quickly. The foul liquid stung his tongue and burned his throat. Light's face contorted when he handed the jug back. The after taste was worse than the liquor. Lawliet snickered and took a long swig.

"Ahh," he breathed after he put the jug down. "That's some good moonshine."

"To Hell it is."

"Don't be so serious," Lawliet chuckled, wiping his lips with his thumb.

Lawliet's face was flushed; a sweat bead rolled down his cheek, reminding Light how sticky the moist, hot air felt. He peeled off his shirt, tossing it by the fire. Lawliet gazed at Light, immediately mirroring him. His ribs and sternum jutted through his skin. Too scrawny. Lawliet's eyes glittered as he gazed up at the stars.

"I'm not," Light hiccuped.

"You're not what?"

"Serious."

Ever since he could remember, Lawliet had been Light's mentor. Although Light was brilliant himself, he couldn't help but admire Lawliet's logic. Every move he made was carefully planned, and his hesitant nature maintained the normally impulsive Light. Lawliet never searched for company and always seemed completely satisfied around Light. And, even though Lawliet was reclusive, he wasn't shy; frankly, other people bored him.

The two lay by the fire, talking and laughing for countless hours. The flame's light barely revealed the vast land that surrounded him. Lawliet's father's ranch was close by, but when Light tried to look for it, he could only see a fog of black. It was as if they were the only two people on the planet. Strangely, that idea pleased Light.

Nights like this were the only things he had to look forward to.

"I'm beat," Light yawned, stretching his arms above his head. Lawliet didn't reply and only pulled the blanket out of his satchel and spread it on the dirt.

Light stomped out the fire, cursing as a stray ember signed his ankle. When the flame suffocated, darkness clouded Light's vision. Blindly, he reached out in attempt to find his blanket. His hand accidentally grazed against L's sweaty, bare chest and he immediately drew his arm back. It disturbed him when they touched. He couldn't explain the strange sensation that overwhelmed his stomach, but it felt wrong.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"It's 'kay," Lawliet answered calmly, his voice consumed with exhaustion.

Light spread out on his blanket, propping his head on his satchel. He cheard Lawliet shifting onto his own blanket and, after a few minutes, he was snoring softly. Light closed his eyes, allowing the moonshine to rock him to sleep.

Water trickled down a crimson rock with strange patterns eroded into it.

"GET UP!"

"What the fuck?" Light hissed, rubbing his head. Apparently Lawliet found it appropriate to smack him awake.

A sudden gun shot rang across the empty land. The blood drained from Light's face.

"It's coming from my ranch," Lawliet whimpered, yanking on Light's arm. "Get up, come on!"

Light sat up, ignoring the attacking migraine. He heard Lawliet's feet pattering away as he ran. "Wait!" Light shouted after him. "Don't do anything stupid! You don't know what's going on!"

He didn't stop. Light took off, chasing after Lawliet. Another gun shot. His heart raced as they approached the ranch. As Light's eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw Lawliet's silhouette pull out a revolver. Light did the same. No matter what was going on, whether there were robbers or Lawliet's father was just drunk, he would protect his friend. Light immediately regretted the burning desire for excitement.

Lawliet reached the house before Light did and disappeared through the door.

He approached the door, but froze when he noticed the river of blood running through the door. He couldn't breathe as he raised his eyes to behold the horrifying scene in front of him. Lawliet's father was sprawled on the floor, his torso ripped open. Light couldn't tell whether the red tatters were his stained clothes or his insides spewing from his body. His white face was contorted as the blood continued to pour from his chest. Light had never seen a dead body before, but he never imagined his first would be so gruesome. Lawliet was kneeling over him, trying to press on the wounds scattered across his father's body. His crimson fingers trembled.

"Light, ge-get me cloth so I can stop the bleedin'," he demanded frantically. Tears streamed down his cheeks, wiping the dirt from his face clean. He wiped his eyes, smudging blood all over his face.

"He's dead, Lawli."

"There's fresh ones in the cabinet, above the toilet. Go! What the fuck are you waiting for?"

"Lawliet," Light walked to his hysterical friend, kneeling besides him. Disregarding any feelings of discomfort, he grabbed Lawliet's hands and clutched them tightly. With a whisper, he repeated, "he's dead. I'm sorry."

That moment, Light watched as the only person he truly valued fell apart. Lawliet stared at Light's hands, a chillingly numb expression appeared on his face. The tears and trembling stopped. He shut down and sat perfectly still. His once frantic breathing steadied. Blood stained his cheeks and eyes.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," was all he said. His voice was disgustingly callous.

"We'll find the bastard who did this and slit his throat," Light growled. His words failed to imprint Lawliet. The teen remained frozen. "I'm gonna get my father. Come with me. Get up, Lawliet. Let's go. I can't leave you sittin' here, I won't leave you like this."

Lawliet didn't move.

"Shit, Lawli, don't make me leave you here. You can't stay. Get up."

"Just go," Lawliet answered. Light hesitated, but then stood up. All the problems they had had in the past became merely scuff on Light's shoes. He was oblivious how to console his best friend. The person who Light would turn to about the predicament to try and solve it was kneeling on the floor, bathing in his father's blood. The only other person who would be able to help was Light's father.

"Stay here, a'ight?" Light turned and walked out the door, his eyes swollen with tears.

About an hour later, Sheriff Yagami and Deputy Mogi mournfully stepped into the house. A white folded sheet lay across Soichiro's arm. Light shuffled close behind them, his eyes locked on the floor.

"I thought you said Lawliet was here."

Light finally glanced up, feeling more nauseous than he had originally. Bloody bootprints that weren't there before led through to the back of the house. Fear creeped up his spine as he followed them. By the back door, they ended at Lawliet's meticulously placed boots. Light threw open the door, running out into the black abyss.

"LAWLIET!" Light shouted, calling into the night. Silence responded. He kept calling for him until he found himself hoarse and on his knees, gazing into the nothingness in front of him.

The stars twinkled across the sky above. Lawliet was gone.