Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.

I woke up in the strangest of places. It was dark and cramped, and I could hear a woman's voice singing some song that I had never heard. In all honesty, she was quite good. So good in fact that I'd nearly forgotten that I had just died. Perhaps this is heaven? Angels singing to me peacefully for eternity.

But no, surely a place like heaven wouldn't be so cramped. Not to mention the voice's sound is muffled; if this were truly an angel singing to me it ought to be clearer and, well, angelic. This woman sounded more like she were singing show tunes.

As she went through her song she hit a sour note and stopped, giving what sounded like a frustrated sigh, "Not again, I can never get that note right…" Clearing her throat, she tried again, this time hitting a note far more pleasant with the help of a very cheap-sounding piano. So, she spoke English. From the sound of her voice I could tell that she was a central American, maybe from somewhere like Utah or California, possibly Wyoming.

I tried shifting my position, sitting up in the cramped space and my head brushed against something soft. Reaching my hand up I felt fabric hanging down. Lots of it. All different lengths and textures. Below me I felt smaller, harder objects. Some rough, some smooth, some even with a large spike. There was no mistaking it: I was in a closet. Most likely a woman's closet by the state of things, though it was difficult to tell in the dark.

Finally, I decided to try an experiment. If my memory serves and I had just been killed, then it could do me no harm. I couldn't die again, could I? I felt around and found the handle, shaking it a bit. It didn't open. At the sound, the woman stopped singing, most likely listening for another. So, I gave her one. I knocked on the door gently, so as not to startle the woman too badly.

She yelped in surprise and I heard a shuffling around. A drawer opening, metal against metal, and then cautious footsteps towards me. It seemed to take forever for her to get here and my position was getting painful, so I knocked again.

That did the trick. She opened the door and I squinted at the light as my eyes adjusted to my new surroundings. When I'd recovered, I rolled out the door and stood up. That's when I felt something cold and metal press against my neck.

"Who are you and how did you get in here," She demanded, holding a long gold dagger to my neck. Even from this position though, I could tell it was blunt. This was nothing more than a fancy letter opener. From her trembling hands, I deduced that she was not the type capable of harming another person, at least not on purpose. This was all for show.

I simply stared at her, assessing her character and my surroundings. She was in casual clothing; blue jeans and a t-shirt with a logo that said "Comic Con" on it. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail and covered with a hat, but even from this angle I could see that it was very long. It looked soft. I had to fight the urge to reach out and touch it. In all honesty, she was very pretty. She wore no makeup, and had a small beauty mark just below her lip. Her eyes were big and dark. They were easily the most striking quality she had, although there wasn't any part of her that wasn't pleasing to look at. Maybe she really was an angel, even in such casual clothing.

The look on her face suggested she was terrified and confused. Understandable, given where she'd found me.

Looking around the room I saw that she was not very tidy. There was a massive stack of blankets, unfolded, sitting next to one of the two beds as if they had fallen off and she simply didn't feel like picking it back up. The other bed had no sheets or pillows and was simply covered in random objects. A jar of jam, a pencil case, a stack of what looked like music books, even a loaf of bread among other things. This told me that this room was meant for two people, but she was the only one occupying it. Her two desks were no better. They were covered in clutter. The floor was taken up by a suitcase sitting open, clothing scattered everywhere. In another corner was a different pile of clothes, sitting in a hamper. They looked purposefully separated. The ones on the floor must be clean. There were various shoes scattered about, the rest of which appeared to be what I had been laying on in her closet.

The room had no foul odor, however. In fact, she smelled rather sweet, which suggested that she was untidy, but not unclean. You wouldn't find anything rotting in here, luckily. Otherwise who knows what I could have been lying in a moment ago.

She pressed the knife harder against my throat, "I asked you a question, now answer it. How did you get in here, and how long have you been hiding in my closet?" Her voice sounded calm and collected, which directly contradicted her terrified face and shaking hands. This, plus the large book of Shakespeare on her desk and posters of musicals scattering the wall, suggested that this woman was an actress. I had to admit, she had the voice for it.

I placed my hands in my pockets and answered, mumbling as I normally do, "I honestly don't know. I woke up in there to the sound of you singing. My compliments on your abilities, you truly have quite a talent."

"Did you sneak in here last night during my roommate's party? Are you one of Sydney's friends?"

I shook my head, "I don't know anyone named Sydney. Last I remember I was in Japan. I thought I was dead. In fact, I'm certain I was." I left out the part about Shinigami and heart attacks. "When I woke up and heard you singing I thought you were some angel, but my cramped conditions destroyed that theory."

"Japan," she looked at me, confused, "You're a little far from home then. You're smack dab in the middle of the United States."

"Yes, I figured as much, based on your accent. Although, how I got here I am not entirely certain. There is a 3% chance that this is the afterlife, but I don't think that's the case."

She glared at me, "No, you seem pretty alive to me. Now get out of my room before I call the police."

I resisted the urge to laugh aloud. With my resources the likelihood that the police would hold me for more than half an hour was lower than just 0.5%. This woman had no idea that I was L. But out of curiosity, I decided to question her anyway. "Tell me, miss… "

"Ellie. Ellie May."

"Tell me Miss May, what do you know of the mass murderer known as Kira?" I studied her reaction. She looked at me like I was insane. This was a normal thing for people who haven't known me for years. Only Watari was capable of not being constantly surprised at the things I say and do.

"Kira? You mean the anime character Light Yagami from Death Note?"

Now it was my turn to be surprised. How did this girl, a college student by the textbooks and papers on her desk, know about the notebook? No one in the task force had ties outside of Japan, so the information could not have come from them. And how did she know about Light Yagami? I was the only one who even suspected him of being Kira. I was right of course, but then that Shinigami killed me before I could prove it. Perhaps there was more to her than meets the eye. "How do you know about the death note? Where did you hear Light Yagami's name?"

She rolled her eyes, "It's not exactly a secret. Death Note is a pretty popular anime. One of my favorites, in fact." She was suddenly cheery when talking about the subject, "L Lawliet is the best character in the whole thing, he's so wonderfully eccentric. I nearly cried when Rem killed him to save Misa. Mello and Near just aren't the same."

I practically went into shock. She not only knew about Light, she knew about Misa, Rem, Mello, and even Near. Worst of all she knew my real name. My eyes widened in fear, "This can't be right, you're talking as if we're characters in a story. How do you know my name?"

"Because they are," She said, rolling her eyes again. "Wait," She looked confused, "Your name? I don't have any clue what your name is." Then her face once again turned serious, as if just remembering I was an intruder. "Now I won't ask you again, get out of my room, and don't try anything funny." She slowly backed off, keeping the dagger pointed at me, allowing me room to get to the door.

I didn't leave. Instead I pulled one of her desk chairs out and sat on it in my usual way, trying to piece together everything that has happened. Could it be true that here I didn't actually exist? Perhaps when I died my soul was sent here, an alternate dimension, instead of moving on to the afterlife. Maybe this was what happened to people when they die, they get sent into another universe until they die again? But no, that wouldn't work, I am the same age as I was when Rem killed me, if this happened to everyone what about those who died of old age? Perhaps it had something to do with the unnatural way people die when having been written into the death note. I pressed my thumb to my lips in thought, finally accepting the truth. As the saying goes, I am not in Kansas anymore.

If this was true, and I was now 92% certain that it was, I would need help from someone who lives in this world. Preferably someone who knew all about what Death Note was in this world. Someone like Ellie May.

I looked up to see her staring at me, seething, "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear," she was no longer scared of me. In fact, she was a bit frightening when angry. "Get. Out." She grabbed me by the ear and started dragging me to the door. It hurt more than I thought it would.

I swatted her hand away and rubbed at my now aching ear, "That really hurt," I mumbled to her.

She stopped and her expression changed. She looked me over curiously, studying my hunched posture and wild hair. "What's your name?"

"You already know my name," I explained, "If you promise not to tell anyone I'll say it aloud to you."

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes defensively, "Fine. Unless you do something and I end up turning you in to the police of course."

"I assure you that won't be necessary. I am L Lawliet."

She merely stood there, seemingly unphased. "It's an impressive cosplay, I'll give you that. Accurate even down to the bags under his eyes. But L is a fictional character. I may be open-minded but I'm not an idiot."

So, she didn't believe me. I expected as much. Even I'm still having trouble believing that I'm here. "What if I were to prove it to you?"

"Oh?" she raised her eyebrows skeptically, "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

So I told her everything I knew about her based only on the things in the room, making sure to thoroughly explain my thought process and how I deduced so much about her. The longer I spoke the more convinced she seemed. What really seemed to prove myself were the little things that no one else apparently knew. Things that she hadn't considered important enough to tell anyone. After a few minutes of this I finished and she stared at me with an open mouth.

"Okay, so let's say I do believe you," she sat down in the other desk chair, positioning it across from me. "If you really are the L Lawliet, then how did you get here?" She leaned back in her chair and I noticed with interest that her fingers did the same thing with her lips when she was thinking as mine did. Looks like we have something in common.

"I was wondering that myself. I'm thinking it may have something to do with the notebook, and the way that I was killed."

Her eyes softened at that, almost to what looked like pity. "I'm sorry about that," she said softly. "What's it like… You know, to die?" She looked at me with gentle curiosity. There were those big dark eyes again.

I thought about it, bringing my memory back to the searing pain in my chest, and the fear unlike anything I had ever felt. "It was strange. At first I was terrified, knowing that Kira had won, seeing the look of cruel triumph in Light Yagami's eyes. But then it was strangely calming. After the pain of the heart attack had subsided, it was a lot like falling asleep." I placed my hands on my knees and stared at Ellie intently. "That is until I woke up in your closet and you held a knife to my throat."

"I'd apologize," she said to me, a hint of sass in her tone, "but I'm sure you understand why I'd be cautious about finding some guy hiding in my closet. Especially when the window is closed and my door has been dead bolted all day. I was worried you'd been in there all night, watching me or something."

"No, I can assure you, you discovered my presence here only moments after I had woken up." Apparently, Ellie has a bit of fire in her. "Now, that you know who I am, one question remains. Do you know what that is?"

She nodded and said exactly what I had been thinking from the start, "What do we do now?" She looked at me and her head tilted to the side, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. "Hey, are you okay?"

It was only then that I realized I was shaking. Even for me this was a lot to take in. Everything I knew was suddenly tossed aside, and now I must survive in this new world. I fought back a sob when the magnitude of the situation crashed down on me all at once. It was not like me to cry. I needed to remain calm and think this through. I could not break down; it simply wouldn't help the situation. What I wouldn't give for a chocolate covered strawberry right about now…

I realized Ellie had grabbed a large quilt and was tossing it over my shoulders. It was oddly comforting, despite the room not being the slightest bit cold. But what really shocked me was when she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a gentle hug. She smelled sweet, like fruit or candy. I was not often offered such displays of affection, so it felt odd and unfamiliar to me. I stiffened at her touch, not entirely sure how to react.

"Don't worry, it's going to be okay." She muttered softly to me. She must have noticed how distressed I was at all this. Perhaps I was not as good at keeping calm as I'd hoped.

We stayed like that for a few moments. Then, to my disappointment, she pulled away and looked me in the eyes, her gaze intense and full of purpose. "I'll help you as best I can. But legally you can't stay here for more than 3 nights in a row. We'll need to find somewhere for you to live until we can decide what to do."

I felt a smile creep over my features, "That," I said, "you can leave to me."