Redeemer

At some point, in what must have been the middle of the wee hours, Mello’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of yelling. It was beyond the bedroom door, which was blessedly closed and blocking the noise. Matt was sitting up in bed, awake and listening. He caught Mello’s crooked, exhausted gaze and shrugged.

“They’re fighting,” Matt said simply. “I think Light is having one of those breakdowns L mentioned.”

Mello nodded vaguely, but could care less, and let the sleep haul over him again…

* * *

The next time he woke, the faintest trace of sunlight was streaming through the curtained, shaded windows. Everything felt heavy, his chest in particular but that could most certainly have something to do with the small round bundle of fuzz that had made a bed out of him sometime through the night. The faintest sound of purring gave away its nature and Mello blinked groggily at it. Well shit. He'd almost forgotten about the little thing. The kitten must have been hidden away each time they'd come back in the last several days, but left to its own nocturnal devices, it sought him out as an appropriate bed. Sure. Why the hell not? He was mostly comatose through the majority of the night as-is.

The moment he chose to lift a hand to disturb its sleep and urge the little creature aside, he regretted it as his body registered all of a sudden that all traces of pain killers had already worn their way through his system and just that slightest bit of movement was enough to make him all too aware of every last bit of damage endured. With a hissed curse, he gave up. At least the kitten was not laying on any particularly tender spots.

"She's been there for a good hour." That was Matt, and by the proximity of his voice, the redhead still remained right beside him; a squinted look confirmed that he indeed lay on his front beside him, PSP not too far away but for the moment silent upon the nightstand. "Surprised she didn't wake you before. How d'you feel?"

"Like shit."

"Can't let you have any more painkillers on an empty stomach, so I'll go make you something..." But even before he could finish the sentence, Mello was shaking his head.

"Not yet." The thought of food alone made him nauseous. "Was I hallucinating or did you tell me they were fighting sometime last night?"

"No hallucinations there," the redhead confirmed it, sitting up. "I couldn't make out half of what was going on, but didn't sound too pretty. My guess is as good as yours at this point, but I'm willing to bet Light doesn't make the best of patients." An understatement if ever there was one. Matt pushed himself up and plucked his shirt off a nearby chair, tugging it over his head. "Let me fetch you something to eat." He was gone before any complaints could be uttered. Sharp green eyes were staring at him now and Mello had to smile faintly at the little thing, scratching weakly at its head. What time was it anyway? It was impossible to tell through the heavily shaded windows…

Twilight zone. That was the fleeting thought through Matt’s head upon entering the sitting room. It was early, god, like 7am—L was up of course, after what must have been a helluva night from the sound of it. He was on the fancy brocade couch, surrounded by the usual towering assortment of sweets and pastries, and a bevy of laptops spread across the coffee table. But he had the heavy curtains drawn, when normally they weren’t. That’s when Matt noticed Light was on the couch too, stretched out, dead asleep, his head in L’s lap, pressed against his stomach to keep the brightness at bay. He seemed quite dead to the world, and god knows what had actually gone down between them to lead to this. Matt had to wonder idly if L did end up forcing drugs into his veins.

L’s owl-eyes darted upward as he dangled a creamy napoleon above his mouth, sucking down the Bavarian-oozing confection quickly into that black hole he called a stomach. His other hand habitually clacked the keyboard, and idly stroked Light’s disheveled hair, almost as though he’d lulled him to sleep in that manner.

“Good morning, Matt,” he said, and blinked, noting Matt’s attention and where it was aimed.

“He refused medication like he said he would,” L didn’t have to explain, and normally wouldn’t have. “It was a tough night, I hope we didn’t wake you.”

But things were no longer the way they used to be, now were they.

He shook his head, dismissing the explanation. "I heard you a few times, but Mello was out through the majority of the night."

And that's what mattered, right? The setup was not so strange, if it hadn't been for Light's slumped and very much asleep form on the couch in that matter; and that little detail threw him. Matt had expected L to be awake, naturally, and Light in some varied state of consciousness in the master bedroom. But he supposed it was not so surprising. It definitely was no longer shocking after all they'd witnessed and heard through the weeks. He might still not exactly appreciate, and approve of such arrangement, but it was not his call. Not in the slightest. Nor was it his business, if temptation made him want to believe so every so often. He, like Mello, just hoped L knew what the hell he was doing but unlike his partner, Matt was a bit more subtle and kept his thoughts, as well as his words to himself.

"I was gonna steal something from the kitchen before letting him anywhere near anymore pain killers," he explained. "Right now that little furball's keeping him hostage, but I'm hoping he'll be out of it long enough to get some rest through the remainder of the day."

“That’s technically Raito’s kitten,” L said. “He named it Noriko, it means law, but you already know that. I gave it to him after he told me he’d never been allowed to have any pets because his sister had allergies. I figured caring for something would be good for him…she likes me better though…she has a sweet tooth…I call her Pocky to irritate him. She must have sniffed out Mello’s chocolate.”

L scarfed a Pasticciotti, and his fingers were stroking behind Light’s ear gently like he was the kitten. “It would be best if Mello remained where he was for today. I was hoping to get Raito-kun to go back to bed, but he exhausted himself, and I thought it best to just let him sleep.”

He clacked a few more keys on the laptop, his gaze intent on scanning the screen before him. “The kitchen is fully stocked, please help yourself to anything you want, but leave the apples for Ryuk.”

Oh yeah. Ryuk. Matt was pretty thankful he still had yet to lay true eyes on the thing.

“I can see him too now,” L said.

The statement made Matt pause mid-motion on his way to the kitchen.

“What?”

“Melchiorre gave Raito-kun a piece of the Death Note, it was in his pocket. By touching it, I can now see Ryuk. It’s just as well, since I will be posing as Kira’s proxy tonight.”

The awkward "oh" was about to escape him once the words sank in. "What-" he blinked, half turning back to face him, having already taken a few steps toward the kitchen. "You'll be doing what?" Certainly he hadn't heard him correctly. After all, that was the very last thing he should do given the all too zealous enthusiasm these people had to see their 'God' returned to them and L but a memory written upon stone.

L swirled his finger into a cannoli, but otherwise didn’t bat an eyelash.

“I have no choice, these people expect word from him—you should see the uproar he’s caused among them. If he cancels, they’ll believe it was a set up and they’ll assume he was a decoy. No, I will be attending Raito-kun’s date as his proxy. He most certainly can’t be seen in the condition he’s in. God cannot bleed after all, we don’t need to remind them that he’s human. In a few hours, you will need to help me prepare for it.”

There was no proper way of asking L if he could pull off such a stunt, and thus it went unsaid. Sometimes, because of his less-than-normal behavior, it was easy to forget that yes, L was indeed fully capable of doing even those things most did not expect out of him. Hell, he'd been able to fool Light himself just the previous day. It just had 'bad idea' written all over it, whichever way Matt looked at it, but at least L wasn't going out there on his own. It would be up to Matt to cover all bases and make sure the date went off without a hitch. Easier said than done. Nevertheless, he nodded. "Of course..."

"Matt, please do not trouble Mello with this,” L said flatly, “I'd rather not have him exert any energy over it for now. The same goes for Raito-kun," though as he said the name, Light stirred, and he had the same issue that Mello had, the first flinch of movement exploded through every abused nerve ending and he moaned; the pain rupturing his sleep and blooming jagged in his head.

“L—” the single syllable barely made it across his lips, and L responded by cradling his head.

“Shsss, Raito-kun, it’s alright,” he caught Matt’s gaze and motioned to a tray just out of reach. “Matt, could you pour Raito-kun some tea?”

Matt shrugged and poured the tea, the scent of it made him wince, however, and he shot L a glance. That was obviously no ordinary tea. L’s expression didn’t betray him however, as he took the delicate little cup, and helped Light steady so he could press it to his lips. Light was out of it enough, not to catch on—it was for the better, if last night was anything to judge by, and in a few short moments, the drug-laced tea took effect.

“Matt, help me move him to the bedroom,” L said.

Sneaky bastard, he thought and his expression likely betrayed him coupled with a faint, bemused smile. He would not give L away however, and simply nodded coming around the table to carefully lift Light's practically deadweight off the couch. Slowly but steadily, he was moved back into the bedroom and carefully set down upon the wide bed. Matt even went so far as to fully draw the curtains to block out the bright sunlight that would be assaulting the windows within hours. It was a damned good way to escalate that headache. They were playing with fire here; every last one of them but it was easier to simply ignore the details and do as asked. Sometimes. The doubt usually caught up with them after a while.

Once Light was settled upon the bed, Matt backed his way out of the master bedroom. "Let me get those meds before Mello finds a way to come looking for them himself." It wouldn't be a first, he winced at the thought, shuffling to the kitchen in order to secure something edible (and hopefully not overly sugary) for the two of them.

Moments later, he appeared in the doorframe as if an afterthought crossed his mind. "How do you mean to explain Light's absence later?"

“I’m working on that,” L replied nonchalantly. He shut the bedroom door and pressed his thumb to his lips. “You should attend to Mello now, we’ll discuss this further in a little while.”

Matt lifted a brow at the uncertain response but nodded all the same, retreating into the kitchen from which the scent of toast was already wafting. Short minutes later, he carried out a small breakfast tray with a few slices of toasted bread and a couple of mugs. The bedroom door was pushed open and he strode in to find that Mello had managed to prop himself on his right side facing the door. The kitten - Noriko was it? - remained at his side, and was currently entertaining herself by swatting at his fingers. Mello opened his eyes just enough to confirm that it was Matt returning with that promised breakfast, which was set down on the nightstand before him.

"You should know better than to try and move," Matt reprimanded him quietly, returning to his previous spot on the bed.

"You're lucky I'm being a good patient," was the response, which drew a faint smile from the redhead. No kidding. At least he was honest. Inching forward on the mattress, he helped Mello sit back against the pillows, at least for now. He was pale and the way those eyes closed once he was somewhat upright was indication enough that he would not be going anywhere of his own accord for the next several hours. A good thing, that, considering the day's plan.

Once all was said and done, the tray had been practically cleared, with some extra help from Noriko, and the nausea didn't even swell; if anything, the aptly chosen bread had settled it, followed by another infusion of hot cocoa. Granted, Mello hadn't appreciated being denied coffee at such hour; such a thing was incomprehensible to him, but the cocoa was a close substitute. Not that he had much of a choice in the matter. Soon enough that peaceful dark abyss would claim him once more, but for now Mello was content to sit in minimal silence, amusing himself by what seemed to have become his new little fuzzy friend. Stubborn as all hell.

* * *

It was mid afternoon when Light’s eyes peeled open. The darkness in the room was heavy, thick, sluggish, or perhaps that was his perception. He let his gaze roam around the ornate shapes of furniture, the overly flourished décor—the moldings, the busy patterns on the wallpaper—even so densely saturated with shadows it was making his head worse, and he closed his eyes again until he heard the crunch.

“Can you please eat more quietly, Ryuk,” he grumbled—and the very act of speaking just made him want to suddenly throw up. He pressed his head back into the pillow, not wanting to lay eyes on that wide grotesque grin he knew was beaming down at him, though predictably, Ryuk apologized.

“Oh hey, Raito, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you; that must hurt pretty bad, huh?”

“It’s hurting worse at the sound of your voice,” and oh god it was.

“Oh, yeah, okay,” and the Death God lowered his voice. “Never seen you this banged up before.” Why did he persist in talking? “Except that time at the warehouse—never expected Matsuda to shoot you like that—that was pretty wild.”

Light’s eyes shot open, “Goddamnit, Ryuk—shut up!!”

The shinigami choked all over himself, but Light was already stumbling out of bed, he knocked something over in the process and there was a loud crash, it tripped him, threw his balance, nearly landed him on the floor, but somehow, he actually made it to the door—throwing it open, he deeply regretted it.

The brightness hit him like a bullet in the brain and he recoiled. Ironically, there was a pair of hands there to catch him—gripping his head gently, pulling him forward to block the daylight out, and his face was buried against L’s shoulder all too quickly.

“What’s going on?” the detective asked, and he kept his voice low because he knew the noise was grating. Light wasn’t about to lift his head, settling against L—in his arms—and L held him there., rubbing his back and shoulders. Light got the fleeting sense that L actually didn’t want him to see something…but at that moment, his head was too clouded to care.

“Ryuk, woke me up,” Light mumbled. The shinigami balked at the blatant confession.

Ironically, L addressed him directly. “Ryuk-san, please let Raito-kun get his rest. I already told you, you can stay out here and speak to me all you like.”

“Oh yeah, right,” Ryuk huffed, gliding his way out of the room. “Sorry again, Raito,”

Something curious twisted in the back of Light’s mind. L was talking to Ryuk and he was answering? “Huh?”

But L waived it off quickly. “Come, Raito-kun, I’ll get you some tea and get you back to bed. You need to rest, it’s the only way you’ll heal.”

That was about when Light risked a glance up, just to see what L seemed to be hiding. His gaze fell over a stash of laptops spread out all over the couch and coffee table, and Matt sitting in the center, cigarette poised in his lips. It looked like he and L were working on something, and Light winced.

“What’s going on here?”

Matt had not bothered to look up when Light burst through the door; the preemptive crash and sound of his voice had warned them both that he was awake. Thus, when L caught him, the redhead kept tackling away at the keys, eyes scanning from screen to screen in quick succession. "Workin'.." he mumbled around his cigarette, plucking it out from between his lips only to deposit ashes upon the ashtray, and return it to his lips seconds later. It seemed like a reasonable answer, and to give him some credit it was true.

The world did not stop because Kira was momentarily out of commission. That particular fact had been proven months earlier, so naturally Light did not expect them to simply sit idly away twirling their fucking thumbs while he recovered, did he? The question was evident upon his gaze when he, at last, let it fall away from the monitors and looked to Light. It wasn't an aggressive look. Hell, it wasn't even unfriendly, really, just inquisitive in that aloof manner he carried all too often.

"I'd listen to L if I were you," Matt suggested in the same quiet tone, returning his attention to the monitor in front of him. "The quicker you recover, the quicker we can get this whole mess taken care of."

Get him out of the way by making it seem that he was indispensable. Shit, he had been spending far too much time with Mello. Well, the truth was that Light was truly indispensable in this investigation, regretfully enough, but just then he would serve them best by laying nice and quiet across his all too comfortable bed and out of the way. There were preparations to make before Matt accompanied L out onto the field, an event he wasn't particularly looking forward to if only because it felt...wrong.

Light winced at the response. “Working?” It was obvious from the slightly confused tone in his voice, that those brilliant synapses of his were definitely having trouble firing. L was discretely trying to guide him back into the bedroom, arms still cradling Kira as he attempted to practically waltz him over the threshold.

“L,” and Light was protesting mildly, holding his head, but letting L guide him to a degree. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”

Matt wanted to snort but didn’t.

“What have I ever done that was stupid, Raito-kun?” L said, and Light had half consciously planted himself in the doorframe, resisting. But he laughed weakly at that statement.

“That’s debatable,” he managed, his eyes closing, head dropping back to L’s shoulder, and L had straightened to almost his full height to balance him.

“How so?” As per usual, L sounded genuine.

“You fell in love with me,” Light mumbled.

“Is that a confession?”

“Of what?” Light sounded exhausted with the topic already. Congratulations, L was confusing him now on purpose.

“Maybe I don’t consider that stupid.”

“I’m sure everyone else does,” Light returned. And Matt had to admit—a confused, dazed Light was an odd thing to behold. “L and Kira…” his voice was drifting.

“Kira needs his rest,” L said, and ironically, Light agreed with a vague sleepy, nod.

“I’d like some more tea…” Light murmured. Yeah, of course he would. Ha.

And at that, L smiled smartly.

Odd and downright amusing. Matt even allowed himself to sit back, resting against the cushions as he took a moment to finish his cigarette all the while witnessing the oddity that was Light at that moment in time. He lifted a brow at the request for tea, and, without being asked, pushed himself up and disappeared into the kitchen. The redhead appeared short minutes later, steaming cup of tea in hand which he brought into the master bedroom, L having at last succeeded in leading Light back to bed.

"Here you go," he entrusted the cup into L's hands. One thing was to fetch the drug induced concoction, another was to actually pour it down Light's throat. That was where Matt drew the line on the level of awkwardness. But Matt had to be given credit, he'd come a long way since that first encounter back in Japan. His task complete, he quietly backed his way out of the room and took the chance to check in on Mello before returning to the couch.

The door was pushed open and he peaked through the gloom. There had been no need to be so sneaky regarding his medication and thus he slept soundly. Nevertheless, Matt eased his way inside, pulling back the covers to inspect the condition of the bandages. After some arguing, he'd convinced Mello to wear a damn arm sling so that he would not further injure that shoulder. The least amount of movement possible, the better. With practiced ease, he checked the gauze, noting where it'd specked through in some areas. Nothing serious, however, so he let him be, replacing the lone sheet up across his chest.

Matt returned to the living room then, finding L still absent. That was all right. He climbed back onto the couch, folding himself up comfortably in the center array of laptops, all flashing something different, live feeds, satellite images, the quick scrolling of text across web boards. Just a few hours left. He lit up a cigarette, washing the immediate taste down with a swing of canned soda and returned to work.

* * *

Light sipped the tea gratefully—he either knew it was laced and this was the easiest way for him to take the medicine without admitting defeat after he’d argued so strongly against it; or he honestly had no idea L was spiking him. The former was probable, the latter would have been kind of funny…though considering Light's level of confusion at that moment, he’d probably just made the simple assumption that tea = feeling better. And that had been L's design all along.

L helped him drink it, and Light eased back onto the pillow when he was done. He lay there for a moment, staring up at L, who was quietly looking down at him. What a pair; the need to analyze the sublime complications of their relationship was countered only by the headache it would cause, and at that moment, Light had enough headache for the both of them. But L sat on the bed regardless, and gently brushed the bangs from Light’s eyes.

Light sighed under his touch. “Don’t go,” he said.

L smiled gently. “I have work to do, Raito-kun,” he replied.

“No, I mean, don’t go tonight…” the drugs were taking effect and Light was battling to stay awake.

L contemplated him for a moment, drawing the blankets over him in the chilly AC of the room. “Why are you so smart?” he murmured, fingers stroking Light’s cheek.

“Cause I am,” Light managed weakly. “…don’t go…I don’t want you…hurt…”

Pity, the morphine was an analgesic and not a so-called truth serum like sodium pentathol. It would have been nice to know for sure, Light meant those words. Not that sodium pentathol had a 100% guarantee. But L had never known anything for sure about Light, and Light had probably never known anything for sure about L—and that was the dangerous edge they both needed to keep them from getting bored with each other.

L leaned in closer, “Light,” he murmured. And those amber eyes opened, but had trouble fixing on him.

“Hmm?”

L kissed him then, gently on the lips. There was something nudging the edge of his brain—a strange sentimental need to say goodbye perhaps? Before he marched off into the lion’s den? That wasn’t like L, but he felt the need to do it nevertheless. Light caught the nuance despite his condition, and made some fleeting groggy motion to grasp his lover back, but his reflexes were shot and there was no strength in his fingers and a moment later he was out cold.

L just watched him—that angelic look Light took on when he was sleeping. “Promise me something,” L murmured. There was no response obviously, but the detective continued anyway. “If it is your intention to kill me, Kira, if I find myself dying in your arms again… don’t let me know it was you.”

* * *
There was something in his stance that made Matt glimpse up mid sentence, having caught L exiting the bedroom out of the corner of his eye. To anyone else he didn't look any different, same hunch, same shuffle, same introverted distant gaze that set so many people on edge. But there was more and perhaps it was his long association with Mello that made Matt catch it. He had seen that look upon his lover's face once or twice before and recognized it for what it was. It was the same look Mello had given him that night before they had parted ways to undertake perhaps one of the most daredevil plans to date; the night that had earned them both the same rather dead status as Light. The uncertainty just barely hidden behind a strong sense of conviction and determination. Fuck.

"L," he shattered the delicate silence and waited until the older man was closer before continuing, taking no chances of being overheard. "How certain are you that we'll be able to pull this off tonight?" A slight pause. "Be honest..."

L put a thumb to his lips, and his stare was long and vacant. “10%,” he answered after a moment. L’s percents were never reliable. Sometimes they were the opposite of what he said—in which case the odds were 90% in their favor. And sometimes he just made the number up on the spot. At least, Matt was hoping for either of those scenarios, because 10% sucked major arse.

L saw the uncertainty pass through Matt’s young features, however, and it struck him. He recalled the boy at Wammy’s House, how his natural aloofness had fooled even Watari for the longest time, until they realized how smart he really was. And loyal. L had probably never come across a more loyal and selfless individual…except for perhaps Soichiro Yagami. He mourned that man’s loss…but was eternally grateful he never got to see what his son became. Not really. He didn’t deserve that, and even Light might have agreed…depending on his frame of mind.

Whether Matt saw L’s thoughts flash through those immobile features, was questionable. It seemed like lately too many people knew how to read the detective who was once unreadable; or perhaps he was giving too much of himself away. Light seemed to bring that out in him.

He shuffled over to the couch, and perched on the pillow beside Matt, spinning one of the laptops to face them both.

“I’ve infiltrated the ring the same way Raito-kun did, but he took several months, and I’ve only had this morning to work. Nevertheless, I’ve been able to establish myself to some degree riding on his coattails. The higher echelons know that genuine contact was made with Kira last night, Melichiorre got the message across the proper channels, and considering Ryuk is now floating to my left, and not accompanying Kira #5, that has only sealed Raito-kun’s identity.” L scrolled through some of the secretly encoded text. “The educated assumption by this group has always been that the Second Kira—who we know is Amane Misa—was the first Kira’s lover. That’s obviously true, as we know. But that’s as far as they’ve gotten. They’ve assumed based on heteronormative values, that made the Second Kira a woman—also true—but not proved to anyone outside of those involved with the original Kira investigation. So, given that Raito-kun made it a point to identify me as his lover yesterday…”

Matt completed the thought. “That would make you the Second Kira.”

L nodded. “Correct. That would make me the Second Kira, his lover, and not L, his captor. In which case, the hit put on me—presumably, if we want to continue to believe the intentions of this ring is to join with the original Kira and not destroy him—would have been a grave mistake on their part had they succeeded. After all, Kira would not be pleased if his lover and accomplice was suddenly murdered on the street next to him. Using Raito-kun’s Ring ID, I managed to establish myself as the “presumed” Second Kira, and assure them that Kira’s orders are for me to take his place tonight.”

It sounded like a viable plan and the only damned thing they had to go on at the moment. It would have to work despite that overhanging dread and flashing neon lights displaying an incredibly low chance of success. Nevermind the fact that Matt felt mostly at home surrounded by the onslaught of information reflected back at him through computer screens and not out on the field. That had never truly been his department until necessity yanked him out onto the streets as the other half of Light's permanent shadow. Hell if he would let that particular fact influence this mission, however. No way in hell would he let it compromise the plan, nor L's life above all.

"As of last night Light had confirmed Kira #5 as one of the women who had approached him at the café right before you arrived," Matt stated, turning from the detective to flip open the top of one of the laptops he had lowered, letting the information run on screen well out of Light's eyes. String of code still streamed across the screen, but along the right hand side several pictures popped in and out of focus, displaying their newest target. "Even after several cross checks, I keep coming up with a number of different names she has used at any given time. However, what's shown up most often is Rosabella Cavalcanti. Whether that's because it's true identity or the one she's most fond of, I haven't been able to figure out."

Man was he missing Mello's questionable connections right about then. Who would have thought that there would be a day in which Matt’s own methods would not suffice. Ashes were dropped onto the tray sitting on the edge of the table beside his knee. He did it almost without realizing it, gaze focused on the changing pictures on the screen. Would L be able to charm this woman as Light had originally intended? It seemed as if a good chunk of this case relied on Kira's charisma alone. Timing was everything and right now it was not on their side. Whatever higher beings watched them now must be having one hell of a fucking laugh.

“I got very little out of Light regarding his progress lastnight,” L said dully “He at least mentioned that the ring seems content to believe, or at least refer to Kira’s “real name”—which is an alias I created for him: Tsuki Misora. They saw right through Reiji Higuchi, and that was the intention. I don’t want to make the mistake they have. We know at least one of them have The Eyes, it doesn’t seem to be anyone here in Rome at the moment…unless they’re using Light’s alias to make us think they haven’t discovered his true name. We can’t afford to be tricked by an alias, however. I need to confirm this woman’s name, so for now, we will treat Rosabella Cavalcanti as an alias. After all, the true Kira, as the god of a new world, should not be having name problems, not when it seems obvious to anyone who’s scratched the surface of the initial investigation that the Second Kira indeed had The Eyes…we have neither notebook, nor eyes and still have to pass as the invincible force that is KIRA. Therein lies the trick.”

L paused, digging deeply into his pocket and pulling out a crumpled-up piece of notebook paper. And Matt realized with a certain amount of dread, it was *the* Notebook paper. One brush against it, and he would see this ‘Ryuk’ Light and L kept referring to. Unconsciously he moved back a bit. L caught the nuance.

“It might be helpful for all of us to be able to see the Shinigami,” he said. “But I won’t force it on you. It will be your choice. In the meanwhile, knowing Raito-kun as I do, or rather—Kira—as I do, he’s already done the math on how to be Kira even without the notebook. He was most likely going to rely on whatever scraps of Death Note he still has in his possession, and has more than certain resolved to use them to kill anyone required of him to prove his identity…this begs another issue. We already know Raito-kun is damned for having scrawled that first name into the notebook. If any of us were to do the same, we would share that fate with him—nothingness…Isn’t that right, Ryuk?”

The shinigami was floating above Matt’s head, unbeknownst to Matt. “Yup.”

“He confirmed it,” L muttered. “Therefore, I forbid either you or Mello to attempt to use this scrap. If the need arises and Raito-kun cannot do it, I will do it in his stead…”

And that there was a rather uncomfortable thought. Matt eyed the scrap of paper as if such an inanimate object had wronged him, his thoughts racing. Here they were not only discussing the eventual need to rely on the Death Note yet again, but what to do in case of an emergency where bodies must be provided and Kira Proper was unavailable. Shit, when had this investigation gotten so out of hand?

Clearly Matt wanted no part in it, touch it as he may, and he would once the initial revulsion passed, but his hand would not be the one holding a pen to those lines. Not because of whatever consequences might await him post death, seeing as he never was much of a believer in such things - then again weren't Shinigami themselves part of a supernatural world he had never cared much for? Damnit. And then the thought occurred to him just as his gaze swept past L to the closed bedroom door. He knew that once upon a time Mello himself had come into the possession of a notebook, but the details regarding that particular incident had never been revealed. Had he used it...? Surely not... Matt would have known right away should that have been the case right? He would have known the moment L had revealed to them the consequences. Still... there was that thread of doubt. He would have to ask sometime down the line, perhaps once all of this was over.

It was then, after several moments' hesitation that Matt reached out just enough to brush the scrap piece of paper with his fingers. The result was immediate. Ryuk still floated nonchalantly above him, which resulted in a fierce string of curses and the near dropping of his cigarette upon the expensive rug. Seconds later, pressed back against the armrest, glaring furiously at the death god who chuckled unabashedly at him, clearly finding amusement in the reaction regardless of how many times he saw it, Matt released the breath he had not realized he'd been holding. He supposed it was a sight he'd have to get used to, unnerving as it was. Then again, it might be less unnerving than the knowledge that Ryuk floated around them somewhere out of sight.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath with a deep, smoky exhale. It did little to settle his nerves.

Now what had he been saying? Oh yes, this woman. This Rosabella or whatever the hell her name just happened to be. Damnit. No use in getting reckless. "I'll keep at it. With some luck I'll manage to track her down properly before it's time to leave. I'll be on site ahead of time to make sure there aren't any complications."

Though he couldn’t help but steal another fleeting glimpse at the death god despite himself. The sight of Ryuk, the wide Cheshire grin filled with teeth, the boggled red eyes protruding from demonic round sockets…one could almost imagine the constant company of a creature like that around Light for 6 straight years to be at the root of Kira’s madness. It almost made Matt wonder what Light’s initial reaction had been to the monster? He treated Ryuk almost like a pet, if not an annoying room mate, and to see him so nonchalant, and then *see* what this thing actually looked like…well, it was unnerving, at best. Then again L didn’t seem phased either.

“There is something else that needs to be said,” L muttered. He hadn’t reached for a sweet all this time, which was vaguely odd. “In the event of my death—if it comes to that—I want you and Mello to let Raito-Kun do whatever he needs to do to bring the 5th Kira and her ring down….If Raito-kun betrays you, I’ve arranged for the kill switch codes to be relayed to both of you via a timer, much the way news of my “death” was relayed to Mello and Near 6 years ago. Granted the time frame will be a lot quicker. Raito-kun will assume this, and attempt to kill you. He has Mello’s real name, he will go after Mello first. If he succeeds, that will leave you, Matt, to destroy Kira….if it does come to that. The kill switch is useful if Raito-kun disappears, and you cannot get close enough to him to use other methods. I’ll trust you to do what must be done—but only in the event of his betrayal. If Raito-kun stays true to us and I am dead…” he seemed to wrestle with it for a moment. “If I am dead,” he said, “Then Kira will want to become Kira again…I leave it to Mello and yourself to do whatever the situation calls for in that event.”

He turned his gaze on Matt then, and his face was more unreadable than it had been in months. It was probably the only way to speak the words that now hung heavy on the air. In the same breath, L had addressed the very real possibility of his own death, and had given his protégés permission to execute the one person in the world it seemed he loved most. And if not execute—then what? He hadn’t decided? And something told Matt, that Light knew nothing of any of it…

Truth be told this wasn't the sort of conversation Matt had hoped to have with L during this time they found themselves covering the job of two others. But perhaps it was best that he alone had been there to hear it first because despite whatever feelings he had on the matter, he would not resort to an immediate outburst the way Mello was guaranteed to.

His initial reaction was downright silence. He did not know what to make of all this. Naturally L had already planned all of this ahead of time in the instance that something should indeed happen to him tonight, or any other night through the length of this investigation. He had thought it before - they were playing with fire. Most would call them downright foolish for having taken this on, but it was too late to back down now. Too late to do anything other than move forward and hope that in the end it would all work out. Somehow.

But the pressure was felt nevertheless. The half-smoked cigarette was crushed into the ashtray; fingers run through choppy strands of deep red. Matt appeared to sink into the cushions, gaze trained upon the ornate patterns weaved into the fabric as if he truly held any interest on it at all. The scenario was not so far fetched. In fact, it was one of the most realistic, but it did not make the brunt of it any easier to handle. Not only had Matt just been entrusted with this information, but also the knowledge that should any of this unfold as worse case scenario predicted, he might just as well be looking at losing L as well as Mello before getting the opportune chance to remove the threat. Factors he did not wish to entertain just then. Swallowing dryly, Matt could only nod. What more was he to do when there was no other way out, when there was no other solution?

"Mello's not going to like this..." he murmured if only to shatter the silence while his thoughts still ran rampage. It was filler, nothing more because anyone who knew them or the situation, knew very well that his hot-headed partner would have a hell of a lot to say regarding this decision. Or perhaps he would surprise them all. Impossible to guess.

And what of the next L... should all hell break lose, it would be up to Matt in the end? L hadn’t even said for certain—here he was facing possible death and he still hadn’t made a definitive choice. Shit. Shit, Matt didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to even consider the possibility. He had never fought for his proper place in the spotlight at Wammy's House, not like Mello had. He also never had that impossible natural insight that Near had, much like L himself to come up with solutions and scenarios before they even happened. It was either pure dumb luck that had landed him third in line, or a natural talent he'd never really been too aware of. And all the while holding such a spot, the possibility of earning this amount of responsibility had possibly never crossed his mind. Shit, he repeated inwardly yet again. Unbelievable, all of this. Again he lifted his hands, palms applying pressure to his eyes in hopes of relieving some of the throbbing that had been gathering since the previous night. Lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him at last. A breath was loosed and he pushed his bangs from his eyes, staring up at the ceiling momentarily.

"Let's... Let's just see if we can get you through this in one piece first and worry about the rest later." Objective. That's what he was best at. Let's pay attention to the main problem before looking at the grander picture. At last, he could bring it upon himself to look at L once again; his blue gaze hardened. "Field work may not be my forte, but I'll do my damned best to see that we both get back here tonight with the least amount of incident."

L blinked at him, digesting every tick and manner of Matt’s subdued, or not-so-subdued reaction. “Agreed. I’d prefer to survive this night as well,” he said, and sucked down a sugar cube. His eyes darted furtively to the closed bedroom door and lingered. “The date is at 8pm, at a café in Trevestere. I’m now monitoring the ring board under a hijacked alias and not as Kira or the Second Kira… there is obviously some concern over Kira reneging on his agreement to come, even though I assured them as Kira, that the meeting would be legitimate, and that “I” unfortunately had another engagement. Also assured them as proof, the Shinigami would be escorting me…”

Ryuk laughed and gorged an apple. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Goddamn that thing was unnerving. Matt flinched despite himself, eyeing Ryuk with a mixture of curiosity and mild horror. But the shinigami did not distract his attention long. There were more important matters to pay attention to. There was just far too much that could go wrong with all of this, but it still had to be done and he knew that even if there was someone in the world who could possibly convince L not to go through with this plan, it still had to be carried through for the purpose of following up with Light's hasty move the previous night. The ball was rolling, it would snowball soon enough. It would be best they stay ahead of it rather than getting caught up in the avalanche.

Matt checked his watch. He had five and a half hours at best before he ran out of time. L would need some assistance getting ready and he had to get to the scene ahead of everyone else just to be on the safe side. And still Kira's identity had yet to be confirmed. Brows furrowed and he tugged the laptop closer, typing a quick string of code as if a new strategy had just come to mind.

“Something interesting?” L said, chewing his thumb. He was still monitoring the board, memorizing every player, every debate, every viewpoint, every log Light had saved of his own conversations.

"Maybe..." he murmured, chewing absently on his bottom lip as he dug deeper, seeking a number of different feeds until at last, it was the city records themselves, he sought access to. A cigarette had manifested between his lips sometime along the line, but it had yet to be lit. After several minutes, Matt allowed a grin. "Paola Sforza. No wonder she's hidden her name. A connection like that could unleash a country-wide scandal in of itself."

L blinked..."Go on..."

Matt actually lifted a brow, perhaps mildly surprised that L had not jumped on the connection. “The House of Sforza had control on the duchy of Milan for the greater part of the Renaissance. More important to our cause, however, are their influence within the Catholic church. As late as the mid 1800's - 1841 to be precise" he added but not without stealing a glimpse toward the screens. "Sisto Riario Sforza was appointed private secretary of pope Gregory XVI. Traces of the name have been pretty much diluted since then, but every so often does it pop up, just as we see here." He had his gaze trained on a more recent picture of the woman who had by some mysterious means come into possession of the Death Note. Such a waste. "We can't dismiss the possibility that she's used this influence to ascend to power, even before getting her hands on the notebook."

Ryuk laughed, like he didn’t expect Matt actually was that smart. “Yeah, I knew that already…pretty cool huh?” It seemed he couldn’t resist bragging, had probably spent way too much time around Light. Light influencing a Death God, oh the irony.

Still, it was odd L had missed the connection. Even distracted, Matt had seen L rattle off whole excerpts of ancient works—verbatim—and other such impossible feats—but at that moment, he didn’t seem to be thinking…straight.

Matt glanced around. He had been sitting there with him all day, and only just now noticed how very full most of the pastry plates still were…

The laptop was slid back onto the edge of the table, and unlit cigarette tucked behind his ear as Matt leaned closer. "Hey," head was tilted ever slightly, eyeing him suspiciously. Again he got the sense that there was something too damned wrong about this whole thing, but it had not occurred to him to suspect that the feeling he was getting was not so much from the actual possibly faulty plan so much as L himself. "Are you all right..?"

“I’m fine.” The answer was so flat and deadpan, it was hard to discern anything from it—all things considered. And then L stood up on the couch and walked across the pillows to the other side of the room. “It’s time for me to shower. Matt please continue, you’ve made an excellent break. And check on Mello, we need to make sure they’re both alright before leaving them. In case neither of us comes back, I’ve made arrangements to notify Raito-kun’s doctor to come for them.”

His voice trailed off as he disappeared into the bathroom…

...in case neither of us comes back... the words echoed faintly somewhere in the depths of his mind. Matt watched him disappear through the short hallway into the bathroom before allowing the frown he'd been holding in for some time. The silence was once again stifling; suffocating against him regardless of whether or not he could now hear Ryuk floating about the suite, chewing loudly upon each devoured apple. They seemed to make him content. The shinigami was ignored, however and Matt pushed himself up, checking the time once again before padding quietly into the guest room.

This felt familiar, this uncertainty, this odd sense of numbness that settled in every time he did not know what exactly he was supposed to feel. The redhead crossed the short distance toward the bed, taking care in sinking down onto the edge of the mattress. Not wanting to disturb him and yet wanting more than anything for Mello to wake up and keep him here just a little while longer. Digits brushed his lover's forehead; it felt cool and clammy under his touch, which was to be expected. All the same, he looked pale and despite the blessed painkillers keeping most of the discomfort at bay, Matt noted the slight furrow of his brow and eased a finger across it. As if that alone could ease whatever pain he was feeling. "You'd know what to do right now..." he murmured quietly. "This is your forte. I just spend the days staring at a screen and coming up with the answers..." He shook his head and glimpsed toward the window. "Goddamnit." he hissed with something akin to the anger he so rarely showed.

"What are you going on about now..?" the words were faint as if Mello could not muster anything more than a breath just then. A quiet groan followed as he attempted to push himself up and after a moment settled back against the headboard, cringing at the sharp jabs of pain it shot through his shoulder.

"Didn't mean to wake you..." And immediately he knew that had been the wrong answer. Matt cursed himself inwardly but did not falter even as that green visage shifted and trained on him, curious, questioning.

"What's the matter?"

"Long day." Matt shook his head and brought one knee up, hooking his heel against the edge of the mattress. "Heading out in a little while to check a few things out. Should be back within a couple of hours. You gonna be all right 'till then?"

A slender blonde brow was lifted. "Yea..." and the way he said it indicated that the wheels were already spinning in his mind, however sluggish they might be at the present moment. "Matt, last I checked I wasn't on my deathbed. I've felt better, but I've certainly felt worse." As if he needed reminding. "Now if there's anything you think I should know about..."

Matt flashed him a fleeting grin and shook his head. "I'm fuckin' tired and can't wait to see the end of this ordeal. I'll be back in a few hours to check on you." It was easier to put the dark thoughts behind him and stand; to put every doubt, every worry behind a cool facade and let them fall away. But Mello was sharper, even under the lingering effects of morphine, and grabbed Matt's wrist before the redhead could get too far. A stern look was given and returned, although the latter took a bit more effort.

"Get some rest..." Matt murmured, leaning down to steal a short kiss from his lover's lips. "I want to see you back on your feet." A second kiss was pressed to his mouth but either time there was little chance for Mello to grasp the opportunity and spin it out of hand. Too quickly, Matt slid away, closing the door quietly behind him. After a short pause right outside the door, he returned to the couch but his eyes were fuzzy, the words on the screen unfocused. It wasn't the time for this. It was time to focus, not to think of what-ifs. Hell if he was going to let it all fall apart now

* * *

L tied a tie like a pro. It was not something he did often, but it had come in handy in the past. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but think that whole tie thing was Light’s domain. He’d studied Light doing it. Memorized each graceful motion, the twine of slender, graceful fingers through silky fabric…Light dressed like it was an effortless art, and L often watched him, in the early morning when Light first climbed out of bed—and there were times when L didn’t get up before him, when he couldn’t bear to extricate himself from that warm embrace…this shouldn’t have been on his mind now, it was hurting his concentration.

But there was no other reason he was doing any of this was there? Everything that was going on at this moment, this entire case, this entire deal—it was all for Light. Ryuk would have killed Light in that cell, was ready to take his life without a thought and it was L who’d stopped him. L who was ready to trade his life for Light’s, had agreed to the deal when he could have just let the shinigami destroy Kira as Kira deserved… he’d risked himself, and now he was risking Matt and Mello.

In the past, sacrifices had to be made for cases, that was a given—it was for the greater good. But this was personal…no…no, this was Kira. Kira was trying to resurface, and had to be stopped…

L finished the tie, his posture straightening, though he still had bare feet.

He’d chosen a black suit, a grey shirt, a black tie…his hair was groomed again, shampoo, conditioner, whatever other products it was Light used in his hair. L didn’t keep those sorts of toiletries around, he’d used all of Light’s—but that served more than sentimental purpose. He was Kira’s Second, Kira’s lover, to smell and look like Kira was part of the plan. He’d combed his hair down again, used a pale concealer to lessen the dark circles around his eyes. It was all illusion, but it had to be…he was unrecognizable—to himself.

Slowly he opened the door. Matt had already packed up the necessary equipment and L just stood there rather stiffly, taking stock of the room. “We should get going,” he said, his eyes flickering to the bedroom door again—part of him waited for Light to suddenly appear in that doorway, but he’d already checked on him before he’d dressed, and Light was still out cold. It was time to go, and Matt still wanted to scout the area before the meeting….

Goggles firmly planted on top of his head, backpack slung over his shoulder, Matt was ready as he could be. He glimpsed up as L stepped out of the bathroom, casting him a once over then nodded in approval. Everything had been done to a T. Just what the hell did he need his help for? The sight was still damn odd, but suited him well so long as the detective wasn't about to make a habit of it. "C'mon then," he said with a nod toward the door.

Arrangements had already been made and a car awaited them outside the main entrance. Matt let L in first, then followed him, but his ride would be shorter, getting out a couple of blocks away from the café at which L would be meeting the 5th Kira. Matt did not immediately step away from the car, keeping the door open just a little while longer as he peered in, a silent understanding between them. Communication would be limited between them seeing as the situation would not afford for much direct response from L, but at least Matt would be able to keep him updated. "Good luck..." was all he said, lingering a moment longer before pressing the door shut.

Left on his own once again, Matt watched the car drive away and turned his attention to the surrounding buildings. Borrowing from Mello's earlier insight, he scanned the rooftops for any activity, finding nothing out of the ordinary. At least not from where he stood. The blocks within the immediate vicinity of the café would be clean swept. He had just under an hour to do so and be in position, not daring to compromise L's difficult task ahead.