Authors' Note: The title for this chapter is from the song Everything As Plannedby We Came As Romans, which obviously has really pertinent lyrics.

Furious Angels I: Nameless Here Forevermore

Chapter 12: Nothing Is Going How I've Planned

When Light returned from his date with Misa, L was sitting in a corner of the bedroom with his arms around his knees, head down. The only illumination came from the doorway and his open laptop next to him. When Light turned on the bedroom lamp, L raised his head and closed his laptop, and wouldn't talk about whatever had troubled him so.

He barely spoke to Light at all, in fact, for the next few weeks. He seemed normal enough, for his version of normal, in talking about the case with Light and the others, but he wouldn't respond with anything of depth or converse as freely with Light as he had been, not even in private. Especially not in private. He made excuses to be occupied almost constantly. Light couldn't escape the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong, but there was no way to find out what. He was shut out.

It seemed like L had stopped caring again. He even stopped wearing the scarf that Light had given him to hide the bruises on his throat from the hospital - they were much faded, but still visible enough for the others of the Task Force to be concerned. L only said that they were of no consequence. Light's matching bruises from L attempting to kill him when he'd handcuffed them together again had been less severe and were nearly completely gone already, but Light didn't miss the way that his father looked between them with narrowed eyes.

Light couldn't help but wonder if Ryuuk had said or done something to L while Light had been on his date with Misa, but he couldn't arrange to ask. Misa was in Hong Kong for a fashion show and filming a music video, and the Shinigami had gone with her.

The nights were the worst. L seemed to be trying to avoid contact with Light now, only allowing it every few nights, when his traumatized insomnia became too much to bear. Light woke too often to L thrashing or crying out, only to refuse Light's offer of monitoring. Increasingly L would simply stay awake after such an incident, usually sitting at the desk or on the floor, while Light eventually slept again.

It wasn't until Light's own sleep began to suffer that he acknowledged to himself that the contact was not for L's comfort alone. The vague feeling of immense loss left in his half-remembered dreams' wake was an all too easily recognized fear, after all that had happened. Being so shut out and disconnected triggered that feeling again.

Obviously, Kira was silent - but with no activity and no new leads, the Task Force couldn't help but deteriorate. Yagami Soichiro and Mogi made an effort to pour over documents yet again, searching for anything that might have been missed. Ostensibly Aizawa was working with them, but he was becoming increasingly unhappy with the situation and short-tempered. Aiber and Weddy were to be continuing to monitor various potential sources, including the Yotsuba Corporation and Sakura Television's management, but there was no new information to be had there either. The only person who consistently had work to do in any sense of the word was Matsuda; he took being Misa's manager again very seriously (much to Mogi's relief), as well as his self-appointed task of monitoring television stations for any events, to the point of checking in regularly from Hong Kong to see if he'd missed anything during dramas that didn't air on the mainland. Weddy wound up with the task of keeping up with the programming so as to reassure Matsuda of how little he'd missed and keep him up to date.

If something didn't happen soon, Light reflected, he'd have no excuse to continue avoiding college.

It was the beginning of December when L disappeared.

Light wasn't sure when, exactly, L had managed to slip away - one moment he'd been there, perched on the small sofa and picking over a plate of petite fours, and the next, when Light had turned his chair around to ask a question, he was gone. It was galling, that L should resort to sneaking away like that when he'd already stubbornly abandoned the buddy system almost entirely, but Light was more concerned with the way his stomach dropped when he realized that L wasn't there. It hadn't even been prompted by the thought of what L might be planning to do about the case. He just... didn't like not knowing where L was.

For once, though, the building-wide surveillance system worked in his favor. The video feed from the garage had been disabled, so that was obviously the first place he ought to look for L.

Light hurried down to the basement-level garage as quickly as he could, unable to quell the tight, cold feeling that gripped his insides and made his heart beat just a little too fast. What possible reason could L have for turning off the cameras? His mind raced in circles; the short elevator ride down to the ground-level security checkpoint seemed to take forever, and he punched in the access code for the garage so quickly that he nearly missed the last digit. With the way he'd been behaving...

The cameras, Light discovered upon entering the garage, weren't the only thing L had turned off. The vast, mostly empty space was entirely dark beyond the rectangle of light spilling in through the doorway. Groping along the wall for a few agonizing seconds, Light found the control panel - still open - and flipped as many of the light switches as he could in one motion.

L was sitting against a concrete pillar only a little ways away. To Light's surprise, he didn't seem to be doing anything at all - just sitting there, squinting against the sudden brightness.

"Ryuuzaki..." Light frowned, brows knitting. He took a step further into a garage, then paused and carefully shut the door behind himself. "What are you doing down here?"

L turned his face away, still blinking against the sudden illumination. His mouth pulled into a grimace. "Meditation," he answered shortly, hands tight on his knees. "Thank you for interrupting an otherwise productive session. Turn the lights off on your way out."

"Meditation," Light echoed, unimpressed. He took a few steps towards L, extending his hand. "Come on. You can meditate in our suite. You shouldn't be down here by yourself, especially with the surveillance system disabled - so let's go turn it back on before anyone else notices and comes looking for us."

L looked at Light's hand from the corner of his eye, still scowling, as though the gesture were obscene rather than polite. "Everyone's been dismissed for the evening. I chose this time to ensure that I would have privacy. I have been meditating in the suite, at night, while you sleep; I was hoping that this would be more effective." He hadn't been sure how this experiment might affect him and had taken precautions - regrettably, it seemed that they had been unnecessary. "I'd like to be left alone, Light. I assure you, I am in no danger, so far as I know." He turned his head enough to give Light a tired half-glare.

Light lowered his hand and sighed in exasperation. "Ryuuzaki." He folded his arms, glaring right back at L - wordlessly daring him to forego passive-aggressive insinuations and make an accusation outright. "Look. Just because you know you're not in any immediate danger from Kira-" he narrowed his eyes dangerously, "doesn't mean you can just run off whenever you want to without at least letting someone know where you're going. You almost died." Light struggled, for a moment, to hold onto his irritation, clutching at the knowledge that he had chosen to spare L's life, and that L ought to be grateful. "What if you pass out again and crack your head on something?"

"Now you're being ridiculous," L snapped, rolling his eyes as he pushed himself to his feet. "I lost consciousness once, and it was because I overexerted myself. That is precisely the opposite of what would constitute meditation."

"I'm being ridiculous," Light echoed, unimpressed - and becoming annoyed. "I'm concerned for your health, concerned because you disappeared without telling anyone and turned off cameras that are supposed to be operational around the clock, and I'm the one who's being ridiculous." He tightened his crossed arms, straightening up for every millimeter of height it afforded him, and glowered at L with all the irritation that the past few weeks had fostered. "You're not fooling anyone, Ryuuzaki. You're acting like you're fine now and you're not. Just because the others don't know exactly how traumatized you are doesn't mean you can pretend that everything is alright!"

Stooped and peering up at Light, L's mouth drew into a thin line. There it was - Light using his weakness against him, just as expected. He jammed his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched - the position almost seemed defensive. "That's exactly the point, Light. If I am to recover completely, I must take measures to overcome the residual stress disorder that has thus far been ameliorated by your contact. So, I was attempting to meditate on the subject in an environment somewhat similar to that state which generated the trauma." He turned and began to walk away, further into the empty garage level he'd chosen. "Simply put, unless you intend to remain attached to me for the rest of my life for the sake of my health, go away. This requires as silent an environment as possible." He glanced back. "Unless your purpose is to prevent me from again achieving self-sufficiency."

Now it was Light's turn to roll his eyes. L was being bullheaded - no, it was worse than that, L was being outright stupid. There was a fine line between dealing with your fear yourself and taking unnecessary risks, and L hadn't just crossed it, he'd started playing leapfrog with it!

Light knew a thing or two about coping with psychological trauma. In the days following the mock-execution L had arranged to test him, he'd found himself reliving the event every time he closed his eyes, and he'd made a pretense of working hard to catch up with current events and coursework to avoid sleeping as much as possible. It had taken even longer, nearly a month, before he'd felt at ease riding in the back seat of a car. He hadn't told anyone how the incident had affected him, but he also hadn't gone looking for stressful situations, as L now was. In L's case in particular, a panic attack could negatively impact his cardiovascular system, and-

And damn it all, for just a moment he'd almost been afraid that L had gone down to the basement to kill himself, and Light was not going to allow that sort of selfish, unnecessary nonsense!

"Ryuuzaki!" Light hurried to catch up, reaching to catch L by the arm. "Would you just be reasonable for a minute?"

L reacted out of instinct, spinning toward Light's grasp, wrenching his arm free and lashing out in the process. "Don't touch me!"

The words seemed to hang in the cool air in a frighteningly timeless way.

Light pulled back instinctively, raising his arm to block, but L didn't follow through with the high kick Light had subconsciously expected. For a moment they only stared at one another - then Light slowly lowered his arm, his gaze hard and locked on L's.

"What the hell is your problem?" The words were a cold-edged growl. With most people, Light worked hard to seem harmless and well-meaning, no matter how angry he was or how little sympathy he could muster. Not now.

"So you're back to hating me, is that it? Are you going to try to break my neck again?" He took a step closer, staring L down, daring him to lash out. "I could have just let you die, you know. Kira," the word was a hiss, "could have won, and I wouldn't have to worry about your utter inability to deal with your issues like a normal fucking human being, L."

L's eyes narrowed, his scowl deepening. He tried to take a step back as Light stepped forward, but there was another pillar at his back - a miscalculation. No matter. "I told you before," he said, his voice even but patience fraying. "You should have let me die. What's the matter with you, Kira? Killing is all you know how to do and you couldn't finish the job when it really mattered? And you can't give yourself up, either." He made to push past his adversary. "Even the damned Shinigami thinks I should be dead."

That did it. There was no way Light was going to stand for being goaded like that - he didn't care if L was angry with him over the choices he'd made, but he would not have his genuine concern disregarded this way, not the one time when he actually cared about someone enough to compromise his own goals for them. Not after he'd humiliated himself over and over to prove to L that he was sincere. Not when he'd sacrificed the entire world for someone who was supposed to be his enemy.

L tried to push by him, and all at once Light shoved back, slamming him up against the concrete pillar. He hadn't meant to be quite so rough, but it was too late to bother with regretting it. He fisted his hands in L's loose shirt, leaning into him, determined to make him listen.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that." Light was gritting his teeth hard enough that his jaw ached. "Don't you dare, L. Not now. Not after everything I gave up for your sake-"

The impact hurt, though L knew that most of the shock was likely the jarring of his healing bones. He couldn't quite bring himself to care. "And what did you give up? Actively being a mass murderer?" He shoved back. "Don't worry, I'm sure that you won't have any trouble remembering how when you start again. It's like riding a bicycle!" He shoved again, hard this time, forcing Light back a step - but he wasn't trying to break free, only give himself room to move. He had to consciously remind himself not to clench his fists too tightly. He was unaccustomed to this, but it was real, and he'd nothing left with which to fight it or deny it any longer. Cold burned through him as he shouted, words tumbling out far faster than he'd normally allow. "You won, Kira! I don't have anything left for you! No strength, no identity, no integrity, no life, not even my name! Can't you just leave me the hell alone!"

He was throwing the punch toward Light's face before he quite realized what was happening.

Light grunted at the shove but held on. How could L not understand? How could the one person Light considered an equal in every way be so stupid?

...No. It wasn't stupidity, it was ego. L was so goddamned self-centered that he had to make this about himself - he couldn't accept that there was more at stake here than an incredibly elaborate pissing contest. Damn it, he'd been shown mercy on an unprecedented scale, and he was so impossibly selfish that he was turning it into a personal betrayal - not the attempt on his life (that would have made sense), but the act of saving it!

If there was anything to be thankful for in this situation, it was that there were no security cameras - no one would be watching, no one would interrupt. Light felt something almost physically give inside him with L's accusations; the corner of his mouth twitched up, his face split by a sneering grimace.

"You want me to be Kira?" Light leaned in again, hands fisted tight in L's shirt. The knuckles of his right hand dug into L's chest just above his heart. "Fine. I'm Kira. But you're the one who made this per-"

He had only a fraction of a second to flinch away from the punch L threw.

It wasn't enough. L's fist caught him across the cheek and temple, and Light felt his jaw crack, teeth sinking into his cheek on the opposite side as white flashes obscured the left side of his vision. Instinct dictated his response; he used his grip on L's shirt to yank the detective forward, off-balance, and brought a knee up hard into his stomach.

L wheezed and went limp, pain exploding through his torso as the wind was knocked out of him - but the extremity of the reaction was a feint. As his full weight pulled him loose, threads popping in his shirt as Light's fists dragged at it, he suddenly altered the move into the sweeping high kick that Light had incorrectly anticipated before. He didn't stop, completing the sweep with two quick jabs before spinning back, still bent in a loose, mobile crouch, despite gasping for breath.

Light wasn't entirely unprepared for the assault - he knew something of L's fighting style by now - but there was nothing he could do to avoid it at such close range. He blocked some of the impact with his left arm and shoulder, twisting away, and the follow-up strikes only grazed him. He stumbled back a few steps, still dizzied by the blow to the side of his head, and turned to keep the concrete pillar at his back.

Widening his stance, spreading his arms low, he beckoned with a twitch of two fingers. "Come on." Light grinned, his white teeth streaked with blood from the inside of his cheek. "Make me sorry for everything I've done, L."

Something snapped. L made no sound at first; his voice was dead and locked inside. He kicked, spun, kicked, changed direction, fist, elbow, leg-sweep - swift, weaving, not even caring if anything connected, though some did. He moved too quickly to properly be aware of his surroundings - all that mattered was his target, and he could see nothing else.

Light had no time to think. The world contracted down to a small, white-hot sphere; the air stank of new concrete and his mouth was full of the taste of copper. When L's attacks connected, pain and adrenaline spiked through him, and when Light's fists found their mark, gleeful satisfaction swelled in his chest.

This wasn't how L had trained to fight. There was no calmness, no beat, even in his mind - there was only an intense need to make the hurt inside him stop, and Light - Light was everything that was wrong, and wearing it on his face, fulfilling every doubt, embodying every failure. The only problem was that with every motion, the pain only increased, and he could no longer tell the difference between what was physical and what wasn't. He didn't even realize when it began to tear its way from him, when he began almost screaming with each attack.

It wasn't only L. Light didn't know when he began laughing, only that he was. It felt good - all of it, the exertion, the sharp pain of impact and the growing ache of darkening bruises, the rage, the release of it all. He'd been holding everything inside for so, so long, unable to let it out even when he was alone. There had always been the knowledge, ingrained so deeply as to be nearly instinctive, that he must hide his true self deep down, so deep that nothing could escape even when he slept, because the world, and L, was always watching.

But there were no cameras here. No one else to see.

His fist connected with L's face, sliding against sweat, and Light felt the skin across his knuckles split against the sharp edge of a tooth, and he laughed and loved it.

L reeled from the blow to his face, stumbling back only to gracelessly connect with the wall. He slumped with the impact, breathing hard. He could taste blood and had no idea if it was his own.

And Light - Kira. Kira was laughing. It was the most honest sound L had ever heard from those lips, and the most horrifying. For a moment he turned away in disgust.

Something to the side, lying against the wall, caught L's eye. Under a collection of pipes on the wall was a length of inch-diameter metal pipe. It was a little bent despite the thickness of the metal - obviously something discarded during construction that had been missed during cleanup.

This was it. This was the culmination of everything he'd set out to do. He'd solved the entire mystery, up to and including finally drawing Kira out to face him. Not Light, Kira. Light was gone. Light had been gone since that moment in the helicopter when he'd first - again - touched the damned notebook. He'd had the chance to save Light and he hadn't realized in time. He'd failed. He'd solved everything but he'd still failed.

This was his chance to end Kira. Even if someone else used a Death Note, it would never be like this again. No one else was like Yagami Light.

L ducked aside, grabbed up the pipe, and swung. His moves were wild, and in three swings he barely grazed Kira; the fourth would have connected solidly had Kira not dodged, and the pipe hit one of the concrete pillars. The air resounded with a ringing crack, and the vibration through the pipe made L's hands ache, but he only focused and swung again, unrelenting.

The sharp, echoing sound of metal on concrete startled Light just enough to jolt him out of his fugue state. His manic rage evaporated like steam on glass, and all at once he could see again - and as clarity returned, he felt his stomach drop with the terrifying realization that not only was L actually trying to kill him, he might succeed if he landed a hit.

On some level L knew that couldn't keep this up, and as the pain and exhaustion became unbearable, burning through rage and adrenalin, his swings became increasingly erratic, with longer time between. But he didn't dare stop. He had to try. This was likely the last chance he'd have, given that after this...

"Wait-!" Light ducked aside, narrowly escaping a blow aimed at the side of his head, and heard the pipe strike the support pillar a second time, followed by the clatter of small chunks of concrete striking the ground. L swung again, missed again, and Light found himself scrambling to avoid the wild attack. He stumbled, rolled, regained his feet, backpedaled to avoid a diagonal downward swipe - and all at once he saw his chance. As L brought the length of metal pipe up for another attack, he leaned forward with its weight, and Light sidestepped and caught him by the forearm. With L's momentum working against him, Light was able to push him further off balance; he followed through with his own weight, toppling them both.

The decision was abruptly taken away from L, and he went down, head striking the concrete floor harder than was advisable. Light landed hard on top of the detective, slamming his hand against the ground hard enough to break L's grip on the pipe. It unevenly bounced and rolled away, just out of reach. Dazed, L pawed with his left hand until Light caught that too, and then there was nothing he could do but lie still and try to catch his breath. He kicked feebly, then went entirely still, suddenly realizing how close Light's face was to his only a little before Light did.

Light was tense and breathing hard, the strain of it shuddering all through him, but he managed to get a hold on L's left wrist and pin it down as well. Leaning close over L, straddling his hips, Light blinked a few times to clear his vision.

"Stupid," he panted, gulping, and grimaced as he felt the cuts in his cheek for what seemed like the first time. L's chest heaved beneath him, and Light blinked again, focusing. He found himself staring into dilated grey eyes, his face just inches from L's.

For a long moment, L stared into Light's eyes, and that was what did it. There was no hope now. No chance. No way to end this, and there never would be.

Because his eyes were the same. Light was Light, and Kira, and he would never be merely one or the other. It wasn't as though L hadn't known that all along, too - it would just be so much easier if that wasn't the case.

Light sat back, relaxing his grip on L's wrist when he realized that the fight had gone out of the other man. The adrenaline seemed to bleed away all too quickly, leaving Light shaking and wondering what had come over him. Not that it hadn't felt good, and he'd obviously needed the release, but -

L had… said something, something he ought to have paid more attention to, but Light couldn't remember what it was – like a dream, things said in the heat of the moment seemed distant and elusive now, and no matter how he grasped at them, the words wouldn't come to him. He scowled. He'd let L get to him, again, and now there was nothing he could do but hope he'd remember later.

"Um," L managed, voice soft but raw, staring off to the side and suddenly gone a little tense again. Light followed his gaze to a support pillar that the detective had hit with the pipe during his wild swinging.

L really had been trying to kill him, he realized, and the knowledge of how easily he might have succeeded sent a cold little stab through Light's belly. The pipe hadn't just dinged the concrete, it had cracked it and knocked out several chunks – large ones, one or two the size of golf balls. And that was odd, because the support column should've had better structural integrity than that, unless there was some sort of flaw in its design…

...Oh.

There were what could only be fingers sticking out of a dark fissure that the damage had opened up in the pillar.

They looked like dead twigs, dry and contorted and grey from the concrete. He might not have realized what they were if not for the fingernails. For a moment Light could only stare, unmoving, as a growing sense of dread clawed its way up from the pit of his stomach. There was no way that this was a coincidence.

Slowly letting go of L entirely, Light swung his leg over and carefully picked himself up. He automatically offered a hand to the other man, eyes still fixed on the pillar, and said quietly, "That's a woman's hand." His mouth seemed impossibly dry; it was hard to swallow. "The nails look manicured."

L lay without moving as Light released him and got to his feet. The detective only stared at the shriveled fingers, rate of decay and the name of each bone visible washing through his mind. Then the scent hit - it had been an undercurrent before, had added to his horror and disgust as he'd fought, but it was steadily becoming stronger, spilling from the cavity in the pillar and flowing across the ground to him on cold currents.

He rolled and got to his feet, completely ignoring Light's offered hand, and slouched and jammed his hands into his pockets. "I'll make the call," he announced, heading for the door without looking back.

It had fallen to Light to explain things to the crime scene investigators when they arrived. He didn't mind. L had foisted the responsibility off on him again, but that didn't matter, really – L was clearly in no state to do it himself, and Light valued his control over the situation at least a bit more than his right to tell the man to grow up and deal with the mess he'd made.

At least L seemed to be aware of what he'd done this time.

The detective sat on a padded bench in the lobby off the security checkpoint, bare feet on the floor, elbows on his knees, hands dangling listlessly from his propped arms, head hanging low. There was a constant string of varying types of police filing in and out of the garage - the forensics team had just arrived, and L lifted his head briefly to watch the photographer enter, the shadows under his eyes seeming deeper than usual. So far as any of these people knew, this was merely an exclusive and barely occupied apartment building, but to L, this may as well have been a death sentence. Another one. Too much information about the building's construction would have to be turned over to them now.

Everything hurt, both literally and figuratively. L wanted nothing more than to slink away to his room and lock himself inside and take an extra dose of painkillers and curl up and try not to exist, for a while at least. Even sleep and what it brought seemed preferable to the paths of self-loathing that his mind now wandered.

But there was no time for that yet. First he'd have to face the situation...

And in a moment, he watched without lifting his head as the physical manifestation of that dread approached.

"Light," Yagami Soichiro greeted sternly, stopping in front of the bench; he'd still been on the road home when he received the call to come in. "Ryuuzaki."

"Sir," L quietly responded, painfully aware of the grime and bruises covering himself and Light - at least they'd been able to clean up the worst of it from their faces before the police had begun to arrive. He didn't look up to see the effect his deference had on the older man. It didn't matter - it would be the simplest way to deal with this. Once this uncomfortable confrontation was over, Light would be removed from the case for his own safety, and there would be no point in pretending to continue the investigation without access to Kira. He'd lost his last chance to simply put a stop to all this; once free of him, Kira would undoubtedly resurface and protect himself...

L hated himself. It would be so much easier to destroy Kira than deal with this intolerable comfort.

The cleaning up they'd done was not enough, when combined with what the officers present had undoubtedly told him already, to keep Soichiro from reading the situation with some accuracy. "Light, you'll be returning home with me. Is there anything you need to retrieve from upstairs?"

"Dad, wait a minute." Stepping forward between L and his father (protectively, Light thought, hoping L would remember this later and feel at least a little bit bad about being so ungrateful), the young man mustered an appropriately sheepish smile. "I know what this looks like," he began, hands upraised, "and I'll be the first to admit that things got out of hand, but it's really not as bad as it seems. We were sparring, and… well, things have been a little tense lately, and we took it out on each other. It's my fault that it got as rough as it did." Light bowed his head, shoulders sagging, and prayed L wouldn't ruin his perfect performance.

L looked up as Light stepped forward, staring at the younger man's back, expression blank. What Light was trying to do was painfully obvious, at least to him.

Light was claiming him.

Months ago, when the second Kira had first appeared, he'd invited Light to the hotel room that had been Task Force Headquarters at the time, the better to gauge Light's unrehearsed reactions when seeing the imposter Kira's unpublished response. Overconfident fool that he was, Light had nearly given himself away entirely; all it would have taken would have been for one of the other Task Force members to notice his angry reflection in the monitor. That would have revealed Kira, but it wouldn't have answered how Kira managed to accomplish his murders, and it wouldn't have gotten the second Kira safely under control - so L had saved him. He'd thrown the most idiotically dramatic fit he could think of on short notice, drawing all attention away from Light's glowering. He doubted that Light was entirely oblivious to what had happened then, at this point.

Light was doing the same thing now. He was trapping L in his lies, binding them together, forcing dependence. L could call him on it, but what would that accomplish? It would only reinforce Light's implicit point to his father (and by extension the rest of the task force) that L needed... help. Observation. It would remove even the freedom L would have if he simply walked away from the case and handed Kira the win (not that there was any point whatsoever in that). His actions would be less scrutinized now if he went along with the charade. Perhaps there would be some other opportunity to destroy Kira and restore some meaning to his existence before...

It didn't matter. He wouldn't be able to get away from Light. There was no other way to see this: Light was claiming him. Unless, of course, he simply killed himself first and left Kira with nothing to control.

L closed his eyes miserably at the thought, trying to keep himself together. That inescapable black void was still too much to contemplate; it left his hands shaking. There was no way out of this after all.

"Ever since the mock execution," Light went on softly, "I've been having some… anger issues." He paused for effect; there was no way his father could dismiss that admission. "I… I guess I haven't been entirely honest with myself about how much all of this has affected me. But please, don't blame Ryuuzaki – I was just as adamant about this investigation as he was, and as soon as it's over, I'll… I'll do whatever you think is best." Looking up, Light sought his father's gaze. "But please, Dad, I can't leave until it's over. Ryuuzaki doesn't have anyone else now."

L wanted Kira dead; it made no more sense for Kira to try to keep him close than it did for Kira to keep him alive. The detective stared hopelessly at Light's back.

It was true though. He didn't have anyone else. No one else was so close or had such understanding of his vulnerabilities or... well, understanding at all.

It was terrifying.

Kira wanted to keep him as a pet.

"Ryuuzaki."

L focused on Yagami Soichiro, not unlike a deer staring into the headlights of an oncoming car. He couldn't even remember what the man had just been saying, though he had the distinct sense that he'd been speaking.

"If this is going to continue, I cannot allow you to endanger the life of my son. Do you understand?"

L swallowed, and said nothing, lowering his eyes. He understood. He'd lost too much of the man's respect at this point for things to continue as they'd been before. He wasn't considered a superior at all any more, and he'd no one left to trust.

"You'll keep regular hours. No more staying up for days on end. It's not appropriate for either of you and I can't have you taking your stress out on each other this way." The older man glared at the both of them. "I want you to take full advantage of how quiet the case is at the moment. If and when Kira resumes, you'll be glad you took the time to rest."

"Sir." L mumbled the acknowledgement for lack of any better response. Again, he swallowed; there was a curious hint of white noise in his ears, and he closed his eyes as he let himself sag forward again, aching. There had to be a way to get out of this. He'd have to simply disappear - but what was the point? What was the point of his continued existence at all?

Nothing, it seemed to him, other than avoiding the timeless emptiness he'd experienced before Kira in his infinite wisdom had resurrected him. Nothing but avoiding death and awaiting madness. He didn't lift his gaze from his filthy bare feet.

They looked terrible, Soichiro thought. They were bruised, and dirty even though they'd obviously tried to clean themselves, and L was pale to the point of appearing sick, just now. Light was deeply invested in the case, in his friend, no matter their differences - so much so that Soichiro wasn't convinced that his son wasn't stretching the truth a little, with the ingratiating way he presented himself. (As if his guilt about the mock execution wasn't a raw and painful wound, no matter how necessary he felt it to have been.) He'd only seen Light so desperate to be believed a few times in his life, and several of them had been during the Kira investigation. It really was more of a strain on him than it seemed, wasn't it.

But for the first time, Soichiro realized, he was watching his son behave questionably for someone else's sake. If Light had the faith in L to compromise himself that way, if he trusted the detective enough for that despite their fighting, what choice did his father have but to respect it?

He could only hope that L could get himself together enough to recognize that dedication. The detective - his employer! - was so obviously falling apart in his grief that it was painful to watch. If there were ever any chance of catching Kira, they'd need him, and Light was telling the truth in that he might be the only one close enough to the man to keep him from destroying himself before he could heal.

"Go get cleaned up and get some rest," Soichiro sighed. "We'll discuss this tomorrow. I'll handle things here." He turned and headed into the garage again, the door closing behind him with a loud, solid click.

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