A/N: Hey, so I was stuck in a blizzard in a car for like 12 hours, so I just wrote because the roads were closed and it took us 6 hours just to get over the mountain pass. Haha. So... here is what sleeping pills and sitting in a car during a horrible winter storm will create. Hope it makes sense and that you enjoy.
*L's POV*
Light hovered on the edge of consciousness most of the day, the medicine doing its job enough to take the edge off. But it didn't seem like Light was improving. And Light slept, which was probably a blessing, as the evening came and went, leaving me worried and more tired than I had been in a very long time. The times that Light was awake were brief and full of little pained breaths and fragmented words, sometimes in French, or English, and something that sounded like it could have been Japanese with a mixture of German though I couldn't be sure as it was mostly muddled.
Asking him to repeat things had helped lead him to English, Japanese or a combination of the two that I could piece together to make sense of.
But now, just as I was debating about actually getting some work done, Light began to shiver. It started out as gentle little tremors rippling up his bare arms, but gradually the intensity increased, growing stronger as he curled up on his side, pressing closer to me as he sought out some warmth.
I did my best to cover him in a blanket, but that resulted in a hoarse cry of agony. Guilt shot through me and I ripped away the offending fabric, murmuring meaningless comfort as Light drew his knees up to his chest.
What was I supposed to do? He couldn't sit here shivering, but even just the sheets had been too much for him earlier. He had scratched at himself, leaving large red welts over his arms and chest from the itchiness of the sheets.
I placed a gentle hand to Light's forehead, but the medicine had kept the fever at bay.
Light rolled over, closer to me, but at the fabric of my jeans he recoiled with a hiss of pain. A frown came to my face as his weak fingers pulled at my shirt.
His eyes opened and in the darkness of the room and I could make out disappointment. "Cold," he whispered, trying again to curl into me only to jerk back with the same resulting pain.
His hands retracted and pressed into his eyes before he wrapped them around himself and huddled into a tighter ball.
"What can I do?" I asked softly as I watched every flinch over Light's features.
"Wait for it to go?" Light's voice was like a child's, hopeful that I had a better solution. But he must have had more of a grasp on the situation than I had thought. He knew that I couldn't do anything.
I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to come up with options. "if the blanket hurt, then I can't put you in clothes. Would a warm shower or bath help?"
Light's face turned into a grimace. "Don't move me." Well, at least he was sticking to only Japanese now.
He shivered again, harder this time, and I saw him wince as his teeth clattered together, undoubtedly loud in his own head.
If we had been in a hospital, then we could have used heated blankets to help radiant warmth from a distance, but I wasn't sure how to do that here. Just get the blanket wet and put it in the microwave? I had no idea. I could have a machine brought here to do that, but I needed warmth now, not in an hour or two.
The best option I could come up with was myself. He had been trying to rest into me as he continued to shiver. Body heat was the best option. But I wasn't sure how to accomplish that either. I could get close, but how close was too close? What would hurt him?
At another shudder, I got to my feet and slowly removed what I was wearing from my body until I was down to boxers. Light's eyes followed my movement, holding confusion in them. I sighed, hoping this would help even just a fraction, and climbed into the bed beside Light.
His eyes lit up in understanding and he carefully moved closer to me as if his spine were made of crumbling stone. His gaze was dazed and heavy with medication that I had kept continuously in his system and his hair was as messy as mine was on a daily routine. If this had been any other situation, I probably would have laughed, but right now Light looked surprisingly innocent.
Light's body was a feather's touch from mine, and I could feel his skin just barely brushing me, huddled as closely as he could be to me.
"Is this ok?"
A small hum was my response, as Light's eyes closed and his muscles relaxed and uncoiled. The tension around Light slowly ebbed and his brow smooth as sleep took him once more.
I wasn't sure how long I stared at him, watching his face softened by the sleep. But eventually sleep began to pull at me too. I didn't want to sleep though. Not only did closing my eyes feel like a taxing chore, but I needed to be awake for Light if something worse came about.
That wasn't so simple though. The longer I laid here in the dark, the more sleep dragged me under. My body must have relaxed too far because my shoulder brushed up against Light and there was a cry of agony. It was so startling that sleep left me in a rush of adrenaline and guilt.
"I'm sorry!" I said softly. "Shit, I'm so sorry." I jerked back and away from him. "See, it's better. Alright?"
"Sorry," Light whispered, his voice miserable and his body curled up again. "Arsenic barbs everywhere."
I sighed quietly. "Can... Can you go back to sleep?" I reached out, but stopped, my hand hovering over Light's bare shoulder uselessly. I so desperately wanted to offer him comfort, but I knew it would do nothing but hurt. "I didn't-didn't mean to wake you."
"Not your fault," he muttered, nuzzling his face into the pillow. "You're like Helianthus." I gave an odd look. I wasn't quite sure if the word was made up or somehow out of my vocabulary, but it wasn't an insult. Or at least, it didn't feel like an insult. Light sighed. "Tu es l'amour de ma vie." The French was soft and dream like in the hazy room with windows that were fogged with frost. "Ne me quitte pas."
I found myself at a loss for words. I wasn't sure how to respond. The answer was simple, but the way he had said it had been anything but. "I-I won't leave you, Light," I finally stuttered. "I love you too." His hand reached out in a strained movement, searching along the mattress until I felt it touch mine, his fingers tangling with mine. "Go back to sleep."
Light just nodded with a wince. I gave a deep sigh and did my best to find sleep as well.
The sound of the blanket falling to the floor slowly pulled me from my sleep, bringing me slowly back to the surface. And coming to was pleasant enough, most likely from the body entwined with mine. Legs pressed into mine, a heavy arm around my waist and a face hidden against my chest.
My eyes snapped open at the thought, worry of hurting Light flooding through me. But as I glanced over Light's sleeping form, he looked calm and all the tightness in his features was completely gone.
Could he finally be getting better? I would have checked for fever, but Light had trapped my libs at my side with his embrace. Somehow it was still odd to see all of his usual chaos missing from his face.
"Lawliet..." Light breathed from beside me, his grip tightening on me slightly.
"How are you feeling?" I asked in a rough voice. I had a small hope that if Light was able to speak a single language that wasn't French then maybe that would mean he was getting better.
"I feel like an atomic bomb went off and spattered my brain against the insides of my skull," he grumbled in Japanese while he nuzzled further into me. "Warmer though. Thank you."
"You're welcome." I placed a kiss to his head. "Do you feel better than you did yesterday?"
Light raised one of his shoulders in a half shrug, still moving like he were made of stone and not of muscle and flesh. "Different," was his reply, leaning his head back enough so that I could see one of his eyes peeking up at me through his mess of hair. "You're still very butterscotchy."
"Is that a flavor?" I asked curiously. Through all my worry, I was still wondering how his brain was working, as the wires seemed to be crossed and confused.
"A color." Light closed his eyes again with a deep breath. "Your color."
"I see."
"Lawliet, can I have some water?"
I nodded and gave his head another kiss before slowly untangling myself from him and getting to my feet. I left the room and closed the door carefully behind me. I stretched and exhaled deeply.
He seemed to be doing better. He didn't flinch when I touched him and he was sticking with one language. He also didn't seem to be having chills anymore.
But he still should take more medicine. And maybe some tea would help, if he could stomach it. He hadn't thrown up yet, but it was a possibility.
I wandered into the kitchen and pulled a glass down from the cupboard and filled it with water. I was busy going through the medicine cabinet when the sound of footsteps called my attention to the door.
Light leaned heavily against the frame, the bed sheet wrapped around his form. He looked bleary and unsteady on his feet, but he was at least supporting his own weight, mostly, even if his eyes were narrowed painfully against the light in the room.
"You shouldn't be out of bed!" I scolded gently, moving to the lights and switching them off, plunging the room into a more gentle dawn.
There wasn't an answer, and as I focused more on Light's face, it looked like he was concentrating very hard on what he was doing. "I don't want to be in the bed anymore," he finally settled on.
I sighed and grabbed the cup of water and medicine. "Then I'll set out the pullout couch."
"I want to work."
My eyes widened and I almost dropped the glass cup I was holding. "What on earth are you talking about?" I questioned a little more harshly than I probably should have. His eyes narrowed.
"My brain feels like it's melting, Lawliet. I feel like it's going to come rushing out of my ears. Brutal Beethoven." He stumbled forward and I quickly set the items i was holding onto the counter to catch Light around the waist. I furrowed my eyebrows at the words. "I need something."
"Improved cognitive function, better lingual control, and pain that is no longer utterly unbearable, but still powerful enough to render you absolutely immobile, except when you're being stubborn," I muttered, helping him take a seat at the island. "But I don't think you should do anything strenuous right now."
Light groaned and I pushed the glass and pills at him. He lowered his head down onto the counter and sighed. "I don't want anymore drugs. They make me feel fuzzy. Staticy."
"It's keeping the fever down. You need to take it. Please love."
He looked up at me, raising his head slightly. "If you are willing to call me love, I must be worrying you greatly." He pushed himself up fully and held out his hands. I gave him the objects and he gave a disgusted look before taking the pills. He set the glass back down on the counter and lazily stuck out his tongue. "Resentful grapefruit," he grumbled, his heading dropping back down to the counter. He winced as he made contact, but with a long exhale, he relaxed.
What was I supposed to do with him? He couldn't stay at the counter and I wasn't sure if I could get him back up the stairs.
I got a good grip on him and lifted him from the chair and lead him into the living room that was closest to us, where I helped him sit on the couch.
After a few wobbling seconds, I realized Light could not actually brace his own weight, and I quickly sat down, letting him lean against me, heavy and lax like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Why didn't you stay in bed?" I brushed my fingers through his tangles of hair and he pulled the bed sheet closer around him.
"I could smell Betanin," he mumbled.
"The color red?" I injured, taking a stab at what he was referring to. Light nodded against my shoulder. "Are you still hurting?"
"It's more itchy now."
I licked my lips and sighed, resting my head against his. "You should try to get more sleep."
"How many days has it been?" Light shifted as if he were trying to sit up, but his neck merely moved, his head staying where it was at. Instead he reached out for a pillow that had fallen to the floor and held it against his chest.
"Light, I think-"
"Please tell me," he interrupted me, his voice nearly begging through the twilight of the room.
"It's been three days," I replied, a sadness in my words I hadn't intended to be there.
"What happened with the case?"
"It was the landlord. You were right." I ran my fingers through his hair again. "And the brother admitted to pushing the victim from the plane so he and the wife could be together and collect the insurance money." I stared ahead at the blank tv screen as I spoke. "I couldn't have done that case without you, love."
"You calling me that is making me uneasy. I know this is bad, but... You never call me pet names. You're worried."
My fingers stopped in the raking of his locks. I was worried. I was so worried I was nauseous. I desperately wanted to get him professional help, but I knew Light wouldn't take it. And i wanted nothing more than to change the subject.
"Your silence is dripping down the walls in emerald green," Light spoke up, easing the tension sightly.
"You can see that?" I asked curiously and relieved for the change of pace. A nod was my answer. "What else do you see?"
"Outside is a blinding white, laced with a 99 Flake." I glanced over to the window at his words. Snow was gently falling, though not much of it was sticking and it made the green fields look spotted with flowers like it did during the spring. "It has a strongly aromatic scent, and even though it's cold, there's a warmth about it. Tastes like floral."
"Vanilla ice cream? That's what the outside is?" I looked back down at him. When had he had a 99 Flake? I hadn't had one in years, not since I was very small. I mean, I was stuck at home and Light was out of the house most of the time. I guess it wouldn't have been unusual for Light to get an ice cream.
"Just trying to understand is hurting my head. I've given up trying to know why ice is warm and soft feels like knives against my skin. It makes no logical sense. It's better if I don't try to put focus to it."
"Would you like to go back to sleep?" I questioned, pulling my legs up to my chest. Light gave me another one shoulder shrug and somehow hid his face further into my bare shoulder. He was doing better, by leaps and bounds, it felt like. But I was still too nervous to do much more than make sure he rested. "Try to go back to sleep."
"Will you read to me?" Light asked with a yawn.
I gave his head a small pat and slowly worked my way out from under him to go to the bookshelf. I snatched up a random one and returned to the couch, flipping open to the first page. Light rested on my lap and I lowered a hand to play with his hair as I read, hoping beyond some form of hope that he would sleep and that the next time he woke, he would be fully recovered.
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness..."
When he had finally fallen asleep, I stared blankly at the book, my eyes burning with want of sleep. We had slept most of the day away and it was nearing five in the evening.
Light rolled over on my lap and I looked down at him, at the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
"Shit," I whispered, running my hands over my face with a deep exhale. My stomach gave a nauseous jerk, but it was more from emotion rather than hunger. Or maybe it was a mixture of the two. It was getting pretty late.
Could I get Light to eat something? He had been living on fluids for the last two days and I could already see his cheeks starting to hollow. He needed something more than just water or sprite to drink. Maybe I could make him some soup. But I didn't want to move and wake him. But at a growl from my stomach I sighed and carefully moved Light's head from my lap and onto the pillow.
I made my way into the kitchen and looked through the cupboards, settling on just a can of chicken noodle soup. I went about making it, but stopped at the sound of stumbling. I sighed. Had Light really gotten up again?
I could hear a door open and I gave a curious look before following the sound to the bathroom. Light was on his knees, over the toilet, coughing violently. I honestly wasn't sure if there was anything that Light had in his stomach to bring up, but I wasn't about to question.
I stepped closer and knelt down, unsure of what to actually do besides rub his back for comfort as his ivory skin turned a sickly green and his lips twitched. He sobbed as his stomach emptied only liquid. He trembled from head to foot, clutching to the porcelain.
It was a savage shiver, looking almost more like a seizure. My hand jumped back to the feeling. This was worse than last night. But those eyes were focussed now and there was a gloss of cold sweat on skin. Rigors. Chills without fever.
"We're getting you back to bed," I said, my voice dripping with concern. I had no idea what the fuck to do. How the hell was I supposed to help him? I was running on steam and close to crying from stress over how worried I was.
"No," he shouted in a clipped tone before wincing with a whimper. Tears were pouring down his cheeks as his stomach turned again. I reached out, but stopped my hand. Maybe my presence was more of a hindrance than a help.
There were two more heaves and I winced, my stomach flipping in sympathy. Light's fists were pressed into his temples, his knuckles white as if he were trying to hold his skull together.
"Wa-water," he gasped through sporadic breaths.
I got to my feet and made my way back to the kitchen where his cup of water still rested on the counter and brought it back to him. Light had pulled his knees up to his chest and was silently crying, hands holding to his hair. I dropped to my knees beside him and handed him the cup.
He snatched it from my hand and gulped at the water as if he hadn't drank anything in a month. The back of his hand wiped over his chin where water was dripping and he held it back out to me.
"More."
My eyebrows furrowed together as I got to my feet to turn on the bathroom sink. "You're going to make yourself sick again," I said as I held out the new glass of water to him.
"My mouth feels like a desert and tastes like rotting fish, I don't care." He grabbed at the glass again and downed the water was if he were putting away a shot of vodka. He lowered the glass and about dropped it to the tile floor. The ping was loud and he went back to holding his head as he cried again. "It's like a war zone in my head and under my skin. A battle of cold and hot and of nuclear destruction. Please, make it stop." His breath shuttered as he inhaled. "Please. Please make it stop." Another shutter and a shiver. "Make it stop! Make it stop, make it stop."
I got to my feet, unsure of what to do at all. I wandered back to the kitchen and went to the freezer where the ice trays were. I put some ice cubes in a bag and wrapped it in a cloth before returning to the bathroom where Light was still muttering those three words over and over again.
"This is going to be cold," I said as kindly as I could, pressing the ice pack to the back of his neck. There was a sharp inhale and he looked up at me, his eye lashes sparkling with tears. "Let me know if it's hurting."
"N-No," he stuttered, shocked out of the chanting from earlier. "It's not as sharp anymore."
I sighed and rested my head against his. "You don't have to go back to bed, but please, go rest on the couch. Please. Get some more sleep." I placed several kisses to his forehead and closed my eyes, a slight relief taking over my shoulders as his tired nod. "Thank you." I placed another kiss to his head, and helped him to his feet.
I rested on the couch and Light curled into me, pulling the sheet over the top of us. I had decided to give up on food. I had lost my appetite and it was a fair assumption that I would be taking Light back to the bathroom so he could rid himself of the water he had dank so rapidly.
I placed the ice pack back against his neck and used my other hand to massage at his temples. He gave a content sigh and pulled the fallen pillow back so he could place it over his face to block out the little light that was coming in from the kitchen.
I hadn't meant to fall asleep, but between the warmth and steady breathing that Light gave off and the stress slowly leaving my body, I was swept away quickly.
-The world around me was steadily growing lighter with the sun cressing over the distant mountains. I couldn't exactly place where I was, but I knew I wasn't lost. Just in a city that was empty as its residents slept in the early morning.
The sound of a gunshot broke the silence, rippling through the air. And my feet moved towards the noise as if they had a mind of their own. I rounded the corner of an apartment complex and stopped at the form of a body huddled against the brick structure.
"Hello?" I called out. "Do you need any help?"
There wasn't an answer and I found myself continuing forward. And when I finally arrived at his side, I wished to god that I hadn't. There was pale skin with brown hair and a suite with a red tie.
I wanted to scream, this wasn't how my nightmares went. And I wasn't sure how I knew that, but I did, not that that would help me. If only I could tear myself from sleep.
Light was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and his hands pressed to his face, blocking my view. His hair shone like wet ink, the locks obscenely dark against the skin at his temples from the blood. It was caught in Light's ear, gleaming like a ruby. And I could only watch carve a line down his throat.
"L-Light." I dropped to my knees beside him and tried to get a better look, but his hands covered his face, blocking my view. "You're hurt." I took his wrists. "Please, let me see."
Inch by inch, his hands began to drop. Streams of liquid red dripped from his nose, the corner of his lips and from his eyes. His face was blank, as if he didn't notice the warmth leaving his body. And his eyes... they looked like cut glass, impossibly bright and burning with pain. But it was something else that caught my attention.
Bone shards and pulp, brain matter swelling into the breach left by the bullet. He had been shot in the head, a kill shot. It should have been fatal, but somehow, he was still alive. His eyes were sharp and his lip quivered as if he were going to cry.
"Help," he said, his voice higher pitched and strained in agony. "I-I can't think! Lawliet, help! It's- I can't-can't think!"
My fingers fluttered uselessly over his face. I wasn't sure what to do. How to help. He was supposed to be dead. There was no logic to this, but maybe if I could relive the swelling then maybe I could-
"Please!" It was a desperate plea.
I removed my jacket and placed it to his head to try to stop the blood flow. "We need to get you to a hospital. They will be able to help." It was a lie and I could tell that light knew by the terrified look in his brown eyes.
Something cold was pushed into my hand and I jumped, looking down to where Light had placed a gun. I could only stare at it.
Light's breaths were raw and ragged. "You can still help me." The safety hammer was already cocked, and the gun's black shape seemed to absorb the sunlight, drowning it out in the sleek, dark lines of its form. My finger curved on the trigger automatically, but it was Light's shaking hands that guided my arm up until the muzzle of the pistol pressed into the hollow beneath Light's jaw.
A chill froze me in place. "No. Light, please don-"
"Lawliet," Light said firmly, his grip on my hand weakening slightly and slipping from the sticky blood that covered it. I shook my head, the gun trembling in my grasp. His blood still flowed and those eyes pleaded, begged. "Help me."
A noise escaped my throat, hoarse and dry. "I-I can't!"
His hand reached out to my face shakily, trailing over my lips as if he were trying to memorize them, but only covered them in his blood.
"This is the last thing I'll ask of you." His voice cracked, but for a moment there was a fraction of his old self there, cutting through the choked voice. "The very last thing I will ask of you."
I could feel Light's finger tighten over min that was poised on the trigger, and I could only hold my breath as I waited for utter destruction. The shot rang out and a scream tore through me.-
I couldn't breathe as I was thrust back into reality, my hands reaching out through the darkness sporadically until they found Light and pushed him up and off of me. My fingers traced the lines of Light's cheeks and temples before dipping down to check the full length of his jaw line. They returned up, brushing over the cool silky skin of his forehead to make sure that nothing had truly happened to him. That his head was still all in one piece, there was no gaping hole.
And then my hands fell down to his chest where I could feel the air fill and leave his lungs as he breathed, and then the pattern of his heat as it pushed blood through his body and not out of it.
My breathing was completely out of control, so much so that it hurt and caused my body to shake and shutte revern though Light sat perfectly still, accepting my continued touching of everywhere that meant Light was still here.
Light's arms carefully circled around me as my fingers returned to his forehead and felt my way about it again and again. The hold was light as if he didn't have the strength to hold me tighter, but his hands smoothed over my back
There was no damage. I just had to keep reassuring myself that by touching every inch of him I could with one hand while the other clung tightly to his arm to anchor myself there. Slowly the fretfulness of the nightmare began to disappear, letting me breathe more calmly and relax into the pattern light was rubbing into my back.
"It was just a dream. I'm ok," Light cooed softly in my ear. "I'm not shot."
I glanced up sharply, taking in Light's face for the first time since waking up. I had not wanted to look before, in case all I saw was blood and broken bone. Now, though, there was just Light's pale skin, eyes slitted in the gloom full of discomfort as his lips pulled into a worried grimace.
I looked over him and stopped my fingers that were still tracing over his forehead and lowered my hand. I pressed my face into his chest and Light laid back on the couch so that I was laying over the top of him. I should have pulled away. The last thing Light needed with his migraine was me falling apart on him. But my muscles wouldn't move, afraid to lose his vital heat that told me he was alive and well.
"I'm sorry if I woke you," I swallowed.
"You didn't. I haven't been able to sleep. The medicine wore off and the pain is a bit too intense for me to be comfortable."
"I'm sorry," I muttered again, pushing myself off of him and sitting upright only to lower my head into my hands.
"You didn't hurt me," he pressed, sitting up as well, his hand set comfortably in my shoulder. "Rapid pulse, cold sweat, trembling, hyperventilation and disorientation. You were having a panic attack." I couldn't help but roll my eyes, but the next question caught me off guard. "Are they always like that?"
I wished I could say that this one was just like any other panic attack I had lived through, but somehow this one was worse than the one I had had when I knew I was going to be murdered. Maybe it was because I was worried over another person and not myself, but this one had been crippling.
"No. This one was worse," I got out. I closed my eyes, exhaustion gnawing at the edges of my mind. But I didn't want to sleep again. Not if that scene was all that awaited me.
"Let's go to bed," Light suggested, getting shakily to his feet. I jumped up to catch him as he stumbled. "You don't need to sleep, but it'll be more comfortable than here."
I nodded and lead him into the kitchen, getting him more medication before helping him stagger up the stairs.
We entered our bedroom and Light collapsed into the mattress with a whine. I took a pillow and rested it against the headboard before sitting myself up.
Light sat up and crawled over to me, sitting between my legs, his back resting against my chest. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes.
"I don't mean to sound selfish, but you rubbing my head was nice."
A small smile came to my lips and I began to massage his forehead again. Light shuttered with a slight moan and relaxed further into me, surrendering to whatever release my fingers offered him.
"Do you want to talk about your dream? You were pretty shaken."
"No," I answered, not wanting to relive any fragmented detail that was still present in my head. "Tell me if I hurt you."
"You won't."