Title: Tell the Wolves I'm Home

Author: ForestofInk

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or Howl by Florence and the Machine

Rating: T

Genre: Supernatural, angst,

Summary: L hears wolves outside his bedroom door, urging him into the darkness of the woods. Werewolf fic. One-shot.

Tell the Wolves I'm Home

L hears wolves outside his bedroom door.

They are particularly loud tonight. L tosses and turns in his bed trying to stifle their cries with a pillow. But their beautiful voices makes his blood sing and his heart yearn for the forest. He begs for any god out there to make them stop. Oh, please make them stop.

The first night at Whammy's House was also the first time he ever heard the wolves. At six years old, L was curious and quick to fall into temptation. So, naturally, he had to investigate the wolves' luring songs. The small raven haired boy crawled out of bed, went out the orphanage's back door, and made his way outside to the backyard.

L clearly remembered how his bare toes curled into the ground's cool, soft dirt. He remembered how the moon was full that night and that something inside him was urging him to enter the dark forest surrounding the orphanage. Luckily, Watari caught him before L had entered the foreboding woods. Watari gave him a good scowling and warned him about the dangers beyond the safety of the orphanage. When he asked L the reason he went outside, the boy answered:

'The wolves were calling me.'

On that night, L felt something change. He never felt quite right after that except in the forest's company. The orphanage's other residents found L strange as they would watch the boy slink off into the endless woods. The children shunned him and he became lonely but whenever the boy heard the wolves he felt a belonging.

Upon the next full moon night, L felt the same pull. Relentless, he ignored Watari's warnings and bounded off toward the woods. This time it felt more urgent, his blood was singing and something was telling him to go. Upon reaching the entrance of the woods, L felt his skin tingle, his hair raise, and his bones ache.

His heart began to pound and pain seized him. The raven haired boy cried out as he felt he skin crawl and his muscles spasm in an unnatural way. Suddenly, L was filled with fear to what was happening to him. He dashed across the backyard and ran into the house, trying to get as far away from the forest as possible. To his relief, the pain subsided and the feeling inside him, the wolf inside him, quelled.

"like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins"

L's visits to the forest decreased until he only entered them during the day to quickly satisfy the beast inside him. He never dared to go out during the full moon. The howling of the wolves were no longer a comforting sound, but a sound that caused L pain. He attempted everything to stifle the animal running rampant inside him.

Meat was completely cut out of his diet, but L found himself unconsciously eating raw meat from the orphanage's kitchen when no one was looking. To his horror, he ended up killing and eating a tabby cat that had taken a liking to haunt the Whammy's House grounds. He remembered one moment he was taking a stroll outside, the next he was hunched over the half-eaten carcass of a cat with blood smeared all over him and tufts of tawny cat hair and meat between his teeth.

Sweets became a way to curb L's hunger for meat. In order stifle the cravings, he needed to constantly consume a surplus of desserts. But no matter how much he ate, he could still feel that feral hunger.

As he became older, L took notice on how truly different he was from everyone else. He was able to hear, see, and smell things no one else could. He would secretly use these heightened senses to his advantage during cases. He would literally 'sniff out the criminals'.

Puberty came quicker than most children, and with different changes. His teeth became longer, till the point he sported fangs and a mouthful of sharp teeth. He ears became longer and pointed, luckily he was able to hide them under a tangle of ebony hair. He also had a massive growth spurt; it seemed that overnight he left his diminutive height of 4'11 to a towering 6'2.

His changes were not only physical. He became quicker to lash out and become restless. During his occasional fits, he would unconsciously snarl, growl, and reveal his arsenal of pointed teeth.

The staff at Whammy's House became wary of him. There was an incident were a staff member had tried to take L's stash of candy away, chastising him on how unhealthy it was. As she went to snatch his candy, L snarled and attempted to bite her. Fortunately for her, L missed her hand and she came out unscathed.

Word of the incident spread through the orphanage like a wild fire. L once again became the outcast, the freak. L needed to control this beast, before any one got hurt. Through meditation, practice, and a diet consisted mainly of sugar, L was able to hide his emotions and wear a vacant mask.

"Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers
Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters"

As the name L, became more popular and people were calling in for his assistance in cases, L had to travel more frequently. It was something he dreaded. Cramped spaces made him anxious so planes, cars, and other methods for transportation with limited space made him feel extremelyuncomfortable. Reaching his destination didn't make L happy either. He would usually stay in large cities for the sake of being close to the case and that was something he absolutely loathed.

First of all, the cities disgusting smog and pollution would overwhelm his sensitive nose. Then, there was the lack of any nature. The term 'concrete jungle' was a good way to describe it. The only time L would become some-what 'ill' was during his long trips to the city. His muscles ached and he became lethargic. His body was begging to be set free, to run among the trees once again.

There was one occasion L just snapped. After chasing a Russian Mafia for weeks without avail, blundering detectives who lost all the evidence, and being trapped within a hotel room all the while, he went berserk. His rampage started with the computers. They were thrown against the walls, smashing them into pieces. Still not satisfied, he moved onto the hotel's furniture. L tore up the pillows, beds, curtains, sheets, decorations, everything. The once extravagant hotel room looked like a tornado destroyed it.

However the rampage did not quell the beast inside. L went into a full blown panic attack. He huddled in a corner, in the fetal position, and rocked back and forth; all the while he dug his jagged nails into his pale flesh. Blood began to seep from his wounds in thin crimson lines, but he continued to burrow his nails further in.

Watari came back to find the hotel room turned upside down but as soon as he saw L dripping with blood, everything was forgotten and he rushed toward him. The boy was violently shaking and his breathing was ragged. His stormy gray eyes were riddled with an unimaginable horror that made Watari desperate to know what had set the boy off.

As he came closer, Watari couldn't help but be reminded of a feral dog he once tried to capture. The attempt had ended in failure but the resemblance between it and L was striking. Just like the dog, L was huddled in a corner, teeth bared, and his mangy hair stood on end.

Watari hesitated to touch L, afraid he would get bitten, which was the reason his attempt to capture the dog ended in failure. But Watari put those thoughts away. L wouldn't bite him, he wasn't some feral dog but a boy. What a silly thought, Watari chastised himself. However, Watari still felt uneasy. Yes, L wasn't a feral dog but that didn't mean he wasn't feral.

"L, you must calm down!" Watari exclaimed, but L's mind was currently in a dark place and had run astray, he couldn't hear him. The raven-haired boy started to whimper as he continued to rock back and forth.

Watari sighed and shook his head. He knew what he had to do. He raised his hand and struck L, hard.

L state of panic was successfully derailed and he instantly calmed down.

"I-I'm so sorry L. I had to do it." Watari's face was ridden with guilt. In the past, Watari had to deal with panic attacks from various children, including L, so he knew the most effective ways to snap them out of it.

"Thank you, Watari." L's voice was low and empty as he stayed in his curled position, with his bony knees against his chest.

L truly was thankful, he was shifting. He remembered all those years ago, the first time he heard the wolves. It was the exact pain, the exact feeling; however, the process was going further.

He was turning into a wolf.

The panic and stress must have somehow triggered the transformation. Thankfully, Watari had stopped it before it progressed any further. L couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Watari came too late. What would have happened if Watari came to see not a boy, but a monster?

"A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night
May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright"

L had dreams were he was a wolf. He dreamt of the forest floor beneath his running paws and a sense of freedom. He would run through the sparse pine trees, with paws lightly touching the ground damp with the memory of rain. But there were times he dreamt of blood, death, and the feeling of warm, innocent flesh between his teeth. Those dreams are what scare him the most.

He had never told Watari of his 'inner wolf', in fear the old man would reject him or place him in a mental institution. Watari just wrote off L strange behavior as quirks. It saddened L that he couldn't share with anyone what he was dealing with but he guessed it was for the best. Some things are better left unsaid.

L sometimes wonders if what he feels is real or just conjured up nonsense spiraling in his head. But when he hears the wolves howling on the full moon nights and the feeling of maggots festering under his skin and the begging for release, it becomes all too real.

As time went by L's inner beast grew harder to control. After so many years of being detained, it demanded to be set free. So L loosened the leash on it, just a little. Bit, by bit.

"Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack
My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out"

L hears wolves outside his bedroom door.

A fever drips from his pores as he trembles and shakes. L has fallen ill; it is strange because he has never once been sick before. The sickness started a week ago with a high temperature and fever dreams, now it has progressed to cold sweats, constant vomiting, and hallucinations.

'I'm dying.'

L comes to the sudden realization as blood dribbles down his trembling lips and onto the white bed sheets. He grips the bloody sheets as the illness rages on, unrelenting and unyielding.It's a fever you just can't sweat out. A fever that started on the first night he ever heard the wolf's howl. He has been holding in the wolf for too long, now it's killing him. This is the price for trying to be human. The wolves are getting so loud that L slams a pillow over his head. They know time is running out and it won't be long till the boy dies.

In between the wolves' cries and the pain tearing him asunder, L wonders what he is waiting for. Why is he clutching onto his humanity so tightly? What has this life of hiding ever given him?

He has spent his whole life solving cases, looking at the worst of humanity through computer screens and crime scene photos. He used to do it for the thrill of it, for the adrenaline and challenge of a grand puzzle. But his wicked games have become a continuous job without end. L could feel the burden of it all like a collar tied too tightly around his neck, choking him. He has become nothing more than a dog on a leash, told when to sit, stay, and roll over.

He has spent countless hours mulling over cases choosing to solve crimes over sleep and his basic needs. And what does he get in return? Nothing. Not even a thank you or a small showing of gratitude. Instead, he is just thrown another case to solve.

Since the first day at Whammy' House he was taught to hide his emotions, to never feel. Emotions are for the weak and get you killed. So, L crafted a mask of ivory with deadpanned eyes that fall too flat. He has been caught too long in this infinite mask. He has forgotten what it means to be alive.

No one at Whammy's House has seen the wolves but L. They always left paw prints around the orphanage, sometimes small animal carcasses would be found in the backyard. Their howling has become the orphanage's lullaby. Signs of them were everywhere, yet they have never been seen.

Through his bedroom window L could see their faint outlines in the forest, just lingering among the trees like silent phantoms. The wolves would watch him right back, waiting for him to become one of them. Among the pack is a hushed whisper. Soon, Soon.

L half sat up, just enough to throw up more blood. Tears are streaming down his face, salt mixed with blood. The pain is unbearable he feels as if his insides were being torn apart. His muscles seize and his bones ache, desperately wanting to leave this human body behind. Tangled in a mess of sheets and vomit, L shakes and claws at the mattress, trying to hold on to something. He is searching for a buoy in a churning sea of chaos.

In a desperate haste, L swings his legs over the mattress and stumbles to his feet. Weak, he collapses to the floor but he grips the nightstand and heaves himself onto shaky legs. He walks like a newborn fawn upon dainty silt legs. He coughs and sputters down the orphanage's hallway, leaving a thin trail of his blood from his bedroom to the back door. He feels hazy and slow, as if moving in a dream.

The night is cool and crisp. An eternity of darkness and stars bend around a full moon. The wolves' howling has seized but L senses them just beyond the snarl of branches and trees, waiting for him.

L stands at the edge of the wilderness just like he did so many years ago. The wolf in him is restless and pacing back and forth in its locked prison. It's been waiting for years.

L decides to finally let go.

He lurches forward and collapses onto his hands and knees. For a moment, pain wipes all senses and thought away from him and he is set ablaze. His back arches painfully and through his pale skin you could see his knobby spine slither and move like a serpent. His veins are molten as his body remaps itself, charting new courses, planning new bones while it crushes others to dust. Everything is changing. There is no mercy in this.

Where once a boy stood, is a wolf.

L pushes through the tangle of branches and into the forest, leaving his old life behind.

"If you could only see the beast you've made of me
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow'd ground"

A/N: Please favorite, comment, review, etc! :D The lyrics are Howl by Florence and the Machine

Put on your wolf skin and run with the wolves...