Hi, universe. Have a random fic that just kind of birthed itself from my hatred of Kira, and desire to see a more human side to Light.

This is meant to take place at some point after episode 17 of the anime. It's entitled "Execution." It's kind of awesome. I love it. Did I mention it's awesome? And that I love it?

12/14/10 ETA: I dunno if anyone will notice, but there were previously two chapters to this fic. They were not up to snuff. I like it better as a one-shot, so here it is. On its own. Dedicated to Tarshil, who saved its sorry little ass. ;)

The door opened. L flicked on the light with a lazy finger. A small but comfortable room brightened into view. "This is ours, Light-kun."

Light nodded mutedly. After a moment of standing there, he said, "I want a shower, Ryuuzaki."

"So I presumed," L replied blandly. "The bathroom is here." He shuffled to the back corner of the room, towing a silent Light behind him. "Light-kun is very quiet," he commented, using his elbow to turn on the second light switch.

"Yeah," said Light. "Sorry." He paused. "It's just, you know. Been a long few weeks."

"Light-kun's joints are stiff," L surmised. "His brain is numb." His eyes flickered upward. "His hair is greasy."

"You've got it," said Light dully. "Being incarcerated does that to me."

L nibbled on his thumb as he turned away from Light. "Will Light-kun be wanting a shower, or a bath?"

Light shook his head and quickly shed his pants. "I said shower, didn't I?"

"Ah. Of course. I beg your pardon." L eyed him curiously. "Does Light-kun plan to shower with his shirt on?"

"Ideally," said Light, "you'd take off the chain, and then I'd take off my shirt."

"But if Light-kun were Kira, he might use that opportunity to murder a criminal somehow." L cocked his head. "Is that not distinctly possible?"

"Absolutely," answered Light wryly. "I always kill people during a shower. It's soothing."

"Mm," said L, unlocking the chain. "You might want to watch what you say, Light-kun. That sounded suspiciously like a confession."

Light ignored him. "I'm assuming you're going to stare at me while I wash my hair, then?"

L blinked in affirmation. "It might be murderous shampoo."

"Huh. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were making a joke."

"Fascinating proposition," L murmured through his thumb.

Stripping off his shirt, Light stepped forward and slid aside the glass door of the shower. "Just let me pretend you're not here, okay?"

"I feel inclined to remind Light-kun that we are both males."

"Well I feel inclined to remind—fuck, whatever."

"Cursing?" L muttered, smiling slightly. "The godly Kira would sink so low?"

"I'm not Kira, Ryuuzaki." Light sounded bored.

L raised a shoulder. "You said differently beforehand."

"You're not here, remember?" Light sang, exasperated.

"My apologies."

Raito watched L sidle to the edge of the bathtub where he crouched, facing away from the shower, his knees pulled up to his chest. He set his chin on his kneecaps and turned his head to stare at Light straight from behind.

"You better not be checking out my ass, Ryuuzaki."

"I'm not here," said L, "so I imagine that would be rather difficult."

"Touché," Light droned sarcastically. And then he lost himself in the feel of warm water on his aching muscles. He could hardly move his arms—they were so accustomed to being handcuffed behind his back—but after soaking them in steam for a few minutes, he managed to raise them to his scalp and massage fifty days' worth of shampoo into his limp hair. Exhausted, he let his vision blur into a haze of moistened heat.

As soon as he closed his eyes, he saw his father. He saw the gun pointed at his head. He heard Misa screaming. Oh God. Oh God, oh God, he didn't want to die, he didn't want to die, but the adrenaline jolting through his body told him he was about to, and his father growled—

From one murderer to another, I'll see you in hell—!

He shattered. He was Light Yagami, invincible, but in Ryuuzaki's shower, he crumbled. His back slid down the green tiles and he buried his face in his arms and sobbed. He was Light Yagami, innocent, and he gasped between breaths, between mounting hysteria.

"I'm not Kira, I'm not Kira… I-I'm not K—not Kira…" he hiccupped and gargled, utterly lost in his helplessness.

But there was no one there who believed him. There was only L. There was always L. Watching him. Waiting for him to slip up, waiting for whatever evil that lied beneath his skin to creep up and overshadow the goodness he tried to retain. He didn't know why there were chunks of memory missing from his mind. He didn't understand why he had volunteered himself to be incarcerated. But he knew that he was Light Yagami and he was not Kira. He was not Kira.

Yet still no one would believe him. They would kill him for his innocence. They would shoot him for his resolve. His own father would murder him for declaring the truth.

He only spoke the truth—

Numbing horror seeped out of his pores along with his sweat, and gradually humiliation came to overshadow his grief. Pointedly averting his eyes from L, he steadied his quivering chest, drew a last mite of strength into his legs, and stood. He washed the tearstains and snot from his face, rinsed the last of the shampoo from his hair. His fingers shook violently as he grasped at a razor, and he nicked himself numerous times as he shaved off almost two months' worth of his light, young beard. The blood trickled down the drain along with the shaving cream, and he stepped out of the shower.

Wordlessly, L handed him a towel. He took it and dabbed at his face. More blood seeped into white fluff.

"Light-kun cut himself rather badly," L said through the steam.

"Wasn't thinking," Light mumbled.

"Does Light-kun usually shave to exercise his brain?" asked L somewhat facetiously.

"Not now, Ryuuzaki," Light whispered.

L's dark-moon eyes seemed to absorb that; instead, he said, "Light-kun will require a bandage for that."

Light smeared the continuously bleeding cut with two fingers. Absentmindedly, he examined the blood, and licked it off his fingers before he thought about what he was doing. L grabbed his wrist abruptly, towing the chain in the other hand, and pulled him out of the bathroom.

"Sit," he ordered, pointing to the bed. "Where I can see you."

Numbly, Light obeyed.

L rummaged through a drawer at the bedside table and emerged with a plastic-wrapped bandage. He returned to Light, hovered over him uncertainly for a moment, and then took a corner of Light's towel, which he used to mop up the remaining blood. "New razors," L murmured, unwrapping the bandage, "seem to be quite dangerous." He slapped the sticky ends over Light's jaw and tossed the remains into the garbage bin by the wall.

"Light-kun's mother sent over his clothes." L pointed to a duffel bag beneath the desk on the opposite wall. "He should change now."

Light stood, hitching the towel higher around his waist, then walked over to the bag and unzipped it. He found a little yellow note on top of layers of clean clothes. It read, "I love you, Light."

His fist quaked. He scrunched the note up tight in his fingers.

"What is it, Light-kun." It wasn't a question.

"It's a note," replied Light, his voice rather high. "A note from my goddamn mother. Do you want to see, Ryuuzaki? Make sure it's not a secret code from Kira?" He whirled around and chucked the wadded-up note at L's feet. "There. Inspect it all you want. Check for fingerprints. DNA. Who knows, maybe my mother is Kira. Maybe my sister. My kid sister, yeah, that's right. She likes volleyball, French, and murdering in her spare time."

"Light-kun—"

"I HATE YOU!" he roared to the wall. His skull tingled numbly, his emotions took over. It was a shamefully liberating feeling. "I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU! You're sick and you're perverted and twisted and cruel and I hate you."

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he could only feel, he could only loathe the man that was L, that was Ryuuzaki, that was standing behind him ready to lock him up once more.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said L in a flat voice. "I was under the impression that Light-kun and I were allies. That he was willing to work with me to catch Kira."

Light bowed his head, grasping at the towel with both fists as though his life depended upon it. "Do you even feel?" he hissed, seething.

L was nonplussed. "Of course I feel. I am human." He paused, then added, "I fail to see how this is relevant, Light-kun."

Light said nothing.

"What I have done," L continued, "and what I will do is only what I believe necessary to catch Kira. That is my purpose, Light-kun. That is my duty. I must catch Kira."

Light glared at the floor. What could he say to dissuade that man?

"I see that I have caused Light-kun pain. I regret that he must suffer. But the process necessary to find Kira—"

"And what if that process includes killing Misa?"Light spat. "What if that process means wiping out half the planet? Would you do it, Ryuuzaki? Would you do it all in the name of justice?"

"Of course not. That would put me on the same level as Kira, no?"

"But you were ready to kill me," Light croaked bitterly.

"A farce, Light-kun, a farce. I thought you would have seen through it. To be frank, I'm rather disappointed to hear that you didn't."

"Maybe the heat of the moment got to me!"

"Light-kun…" A gentle hand descended upon his shoulder. Violently, Light shrugged it off.

"I am sorry," L said quietly. "For causing Light-kun unhappiness, I am sorry."

Light pressed the heels of his hands to his face and willed himself not to break again. But then he remembered he had already broken. One big crack down the middle. Thousands of tiny cracks in between.

Tears leaked into his palms. He was a disgrace, he was a wreck and he was wretched, he was weak and unworthy and splintered. So he cried.

"Come, Light-kun," L said, taking the duffel bag from him and pulling out a shirt at random. Digging through a little more, he found a pair of boxers. "Light-kun is exhausted. He should sleep now."

Saline trickles were still rolling down his glistening cheeks while L tugged the shirt over his head; arms protested as he wriggled them through the sleeve holes. He dropped the towel and stood to slide into the boxers while L, as gently as possible, clasped the handcuff around his wrist once more. Releasing his wrist, L gazed up at him with wide black eyes. "Light-kun?"

"What." The word barely cracked over his lips.

"Come," L repeated.

Light followed him to the bed, and sat. His head fell like a thousand-pound lump of lead onto the pillow. He barely managed to swing his legs up over the blanket before his eyes sealed shut.

More sedately, L clambered onto the other side of the bed, flipping the chain over Light's body and settling it between them. "Then again," L murmured to himself as an afterthought, "Light-kun is a very good actor."

And leaning over to the lamp, L turned off the light.

It was two-thirty in the morning, and L was typing away furiously. Crouched beside a heap of pillows, his toes curling into the blanket, he squinted into the eerie greenish glow of his laptop.

Why the act, Light-kun? He thought distantly.

If Light-kun was Kira, and if Kira was so childishly proud and unrelenting, then why the act? The boy had cried, for goodness' sake! Twice. Sobbed his eyes out in the shower. Begged to be acquitted.

I'm not Kira, I'm not Kira, I'm not Kira.

There were two options. No, there were infinite options, but only two whose likelihood were over five percent.

One was that Light was truly traumatized by recent events and was suddenly feeling overwhelmed. L was not entirely knowledgeable on the subject, but he imagined that pleading one's innocence to one's own father only to be nearly shot in the head would be a scarring experience for anyone, especially someone that's barely an adult. In fact, the average citizen might perhaps react the way that Light had, especially after fifty days of incarceration.

The other was that Light had overdone himself in trying to invoke L's sympathies. Light had displayed time and time again his ability to manipulate others' emotions in order to win. But anyone who knew Light knew how proud he was. To weep like a child in order to gain sympathy…would Light do that?

Stay in character when you play your role, Light-kun.

Light Yagami would never cry twice.

And if Light knew L—considering the great amount of time they had spent together in school and at work—he should have realized that a simple display of emotion would not be enough to soften L's resolve one bit.

Yet this new Light, this weak Light, this tormented, tussled, bewildered Light, had been Kira's new role for some time now.

Before being detained, Light had made L promise that L would not release him until there was not a shadow of a doubt that Light was innocent. And he had held that attitude. Until, one day, quite inexplicably, he snapped. His eyes grew wide and kittenish, bemused and repentant, and it was as if he didn't remember a thing when he demanded that L let him out.

We're wasting time!

I'M NOT KIRA!

L gnawed on his thumb as he paused in his typing. Perhaps there was a third option. Quickly, he reevaluated the circumstances. If somehow, Light had been Kira when he entered that cell, and been completely innocent when he left it, then quite possibly Light was not putting up an act. He was L, after all, and he staked his life on his hunches daily.

So something had changed—but what? And how could that change wipe thousands of murders clean from a boy's conscience—from his very being?

Beside him, Light flipped onto his side and muttered something incoherent.

I would not have it be so, Light-kun, but I do not believe you could possibly be Kira now.

"No," Light groaned, quite clearly. "No—no, no, NO!"

L watched. Fascinating.

Then Light was awake, sitting up and panting, His skin shimmered with cold sweat, his body shivered. "Where," he whispered. "Wha—Ryuuzaki."

"Light-kun," L replied dubiously.

The boy gulped. "I'm not dead," he said at length.

"No. In fact, the evidence points to the contrary."

Light sat in silence for a moment, his legs crossed, the blankets pooled around his waist. "Ryuuzaki, promise me something."

"I will not promise you anything, Light-kun, before I know what it is."

As if he hadn't heard, Light continued, "Promise me you won't kill me… not in that way. Promise me… I'll be calm. I'll be ready to die. Promise me you'll let me have my dignity."

"Is this a confession, Light-kun?"

He laughed humorlessly. "No. God, no… I just… it's going to happen someday, isn't it?" He stared quietly down at his feet. "When you think you're right, there's no convincing you otherwise, and if you couldn't manage to kill me once, I know you're going to try again."

L shut his laptop with a gentle click. The room faded into deeper darkness. "I don't understand. I am not used to confusion, Light-kun."

"What don't you get?" asked Light quietly.

L's eyes adjusted to the night, and Light's hunched silhouette came into view before the pale moonlit window. "I don't understand because I… I almost believe you."

"Believe what," Light whispered.

"I almost buy this act!" L retorted harshly. "I know you, Light, I know you head to toe, and you are proud and composed. Your equanimity could almost rival mine. You would never ball and shiver like a child. You would never…"

"Break," Light murmured. "But Ryuuzaki—"

"Yes, and you say you're not Kira, but you are, Light. You are, or at least—you were, I am certain, and I am never wrong!"L's fists clenched together.

Wide, brown eyes glinted through the darkness at him, almost black, devouring most of the white. Almost like L's eyes.

"What changed?" asked L.

"I don't know," said Light. "I don't know. I wish I could figure it out. I keep thinking back to why I did those things, why I went places and talked to people, and I can't figure it out. I don't remember anything anymore. I don't understand anything anymore."

"That makes two of us."

"And I know you won't believe me," continued Light, "you never do, but… it's not an act. I'm honestly...I'm afraid."

"Light-kun has never been afraid before—at least, never been so honest about showing his fear." It was not a presumption.

"You're right, but I've never been afraid. Not like this." He bit his lip. "Ryuuzaki, you never promised me."

"I don't know if I can make such a promise, Light-kun."

"Please!" L straightened in surprise as Light flung himself across the bed to L's side. "I need—I need to know it won't be like that again. I need to have time. I can't just die like that. I need to know…to know that I'll be executed like a normal criminal." His voice quaked slightly.

"The circumstances were abnormal only out of necessity—I repeat, necessity of freeing you from your cell." L sighed. "Very well, Light-kun. I will enter into your pact."

"Pact?"

"Promise, pact, oath. I will not execute you until you have had adequate time to reflect upon the nature of your sins."

Light shook his head. "But Ryuuzaki—"

"Yes, Light-kun. I have heard your opinion."

"But I'm not Kira," he whispered. "God, L, I swear… I swear… how can I prove it to you?"

L raised his thumb to his lips. "I don't believe you can."

Light let out a low sigh and crumpled back onto the bed. "I'll think of some way," he mumbled. "I'll prove it to you, Ryuuzaki. I will."

"I'll be waiting," L murmured.

He noted with some interest, as he rebooted his laptop, that Light was curled a good foot closer to him than he'd been before.

And it made sense, he supposed; Light was afraid for the first time, and as for L, he had never before been more confused. The Kira case, it seemed, offered a variety of new experiences.

How droll.

So yeah. If you're thinking "WHAT THE HELL? LIGHT WOULD NEVER ACT LIKE THAT ESPECIALLY IN FRONT OF L ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND" then I totally get that. I just thought I might explore a potential weaker side. That's my EOTD (excuse of the day - they really do come daily).

Thanks for reading!

~SB

Beta, Tarshil: Light, under more favorable conditions would not have acted like that in front of L. Ever. But Light was not under favorable conditions…in fact he was overwhelmed. He's a teenager, and however precocious, he is not used to the barbarism and neglect of human rights he was subjected to. Like I stated in my reviews, Ohba's story is more plot and intrigue, and however interesting and quirky the DN characters are, they are flawed and fanciful at times. Filling in those holes, glazing over those flaws and breathing more life into these characters is a writer's job. And while there are MANY failed attempts at this on this site, Broken, in my opinion, is a natural and conceivable approach. I think Senshi'sBard did splendidly, so please give her some love, people!