Redeemer

Not according to plan…that was his first thought. At least he’d definitely recalled having it when he’d opened his eyes in the darkness…

Whatever had been in that tea had done some good, because he wasn’t having blinding flashes of pain at each movement. He twisted, groaned at the jagged soreness in his arm, felt his head spin to some degree, but decided he didn’t feel like pissing the bed at that moment, so he had to haul himself up. It was an effort, and a few swaggering imbalanced steps before Light found the door the hard way, bruising his hip against the doorknob in the dark. He cursed, went to pull the door open, and remembered the last time and the consequences of daylight. Except there was no daylight—it was dark out. 7pm—and the lights in the sitting room were turned down dim.

Light stood there, using the door jamb to steady himself, his eyes drinking in the emptiness of the room. No L. No Matt, no laptops as he could have sworn there’d been earlier. Worse yet, no Ryuk. Ryuk didn’t leave unless there was something entertaining to see—and that was when Light glanced at the clock again…7pm. He had an 8pm date with the 5th Kira, one he knew he hadn’t canceled…

And he remembered then, what he’d said to L. His subconscious mind had caught onto it first, and the rest of him had to catch up…‘don’t go.’

Goddamnit. L was going to meet the 5th Kira himself!

“Fuck!” Light hissed, and he made a movement too quick for his body to handle, and ended up stumbling and knocking over a lamp...which caused a rather loud crash….which must have woken up Mello...

* * *

Having been stuck in that haze between consciousness and sweet, sweet darkness, Mello cringed at the sound of the breaking lamp, daring to peel one eye to look in the general direction of the door. What the hell was going on out there? With some effort, he managed to glimpse at the bedside alarm clock and blinked, a bit surprised at the time. It felt as if Matt had been in here only five minutes prior. He must've been under more heavily than what he'd originally thought. If there was any guarantee that his head would not explode as a consequence, Mello would happily tell whoever the hell was out there causing a ruckus to kindly shut the fuck up, but seeing as he had enough problems to worry about, an aggravated migraine was not in the evening's plans.

Mello did, however, push himself up, flinching all the while but after a few moments, was sitting on the edge of the bed. The harder part was done. Feet touched the floor and he was momentarily uneasy as the whole world seemed to upturn on itself for a few agonizing seconds. His hand brushed the back of a chair, steadying himself before daring to move forward toward the windows. The heavy curtains were pulled open, displaying the sprawl of rooftops and buildings that stretched out before him. The sun was sinking slowly, but there was still a few hours left of sunlight.

He glimpsed down at the bandages that had been wound around his abdomen, sinking down low enough to just about brush the bridge of his pants. No hint of blood upon their stark white surface. His arm, however, was a different story. He noted a few spots where blood had seeped through, no doubt aggravated while he slept. Catching a glimpse in the armoire's mirror, he frowned irritably. Fresh bruises were darkening along his side; and who knew how many more were hidden behind gauze. He'd manage to make a lovely mess of things without even trying. Running his still working hand through his hair just enough to smooth out the knots, he padded quietly toward the door, making it a point to invoke some modesty and at least attempt to loosely tie the laces of the low-hanging leather pants. He hardly ever did bother to knot them properly and without a belt to keep it fastened, it would have bordered on indecent. And while it normally would not have mattered, this was L's outlandish suite he currently inhabited.

The door was pushed open but the scene different from what he'd anticipated. It was quiet - too quiet given the nature of work. A brow was lifted at the lack of equipment tossed about the living room and most striking, the lack of presence with the exception of Light, who had quite obviously been slipped some of that wonderful anesthetic he'd so ardently refused the previous night. Mello blinked. For now, words failed him

“Goddamnit L!!” Light hissed, and managed to recover himself long enough to twist back toward the bedroom, throwing the light switch and flooding the room with the sort of brightness that made him want to hurl himself under the bed and take cover. He hollered and cursed, and could have sworn he’d seen Mello in the adjacent doorway, but by that time he was tearing the closet open and rifling through the Armani Suits hanging there.

And shit, he still had to take a fucking leak didn’t he…grace and poise at this very moment was quite foreign to him, and he made it into the bathroom and saw all of his shit about the counter, looking freshly used. L had gone to meet the 5th Kira…goddamnit, what was he thinking?! And Matt had gone with him. And Light caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and he looked just downright…awful.

Fuck.

Toilet flushed and shower went on in almost the same moment, and he didn’t bother to close the door, but he did bother to find the ibuprofen and wonder what the hell L had put in that tea anyway…

Oh and goddamnit, his bandages were gonna soak.

Something of a trademark expression crossed his features at that point. Mello blinked, supporting himself against the doorframe as he watched Light flail about to and fro and eventually stumble his way into the bathroom. He blinked again, perplexed but also, at the same time, amused. Clearly Light was either not aware that he was still mildly intoxicated, or had not been aware of it from the beginning. Only that would explain the erratic behavior. He was not so badly wounded that it alone would fuck him up so royally. When he disappeared into the bathroom, Mello pushed himself away from the doorframe, padding slowly across the cold floor and plush carpet, hand supporting him upright at the entrance to the bathroom. "What in the bloody hell are you flailing around for?"

Light was scrubbing his hair with one hand, and the water going down the drain was quite pink with blood, the pile of sopping bandages on the floor, causing a mess. He bathed quickly, and was out just as quickly, still not so steady on his feet, and not quite caring that he was flailing about wet and naked in front of Mello either.

“L and Matt went to meet the 5th Kira on their own,” he growled.

And he steadied himself against the counter, long enough to check the gash on his forehead up near his hairline—thankfully high enough to be hidden by bangs.

“Goddamnit, you have to help me re-wrap my arm, or it’s gonna bleed all over the damn suit…”

He was still naked and quite the dripping mess as he shoved passed Mello back into the bedroom, toweling what he could as he flustered about, managing to find the one laptop left behind with some of the info on it…

It took a moment for the importance of that comment to sink in, but once it did everything made sense. Shit. All of it made sense all of a sudden. Mello stepped out of his way, the words frozen upon his lips as he watched him go without really seeing him. They'd gone out to... oh.

Oh shit.

"When were you supposed to meet with her?" he asked as a somewhat warped sense of normalcy was starting to sink back in. He thought he should know the answer, but it eluded him just then. Fresh bandages were however, dug out of the cabinet before he followed Light back out, practically yanking the laptop out of his hands so that he could rewrap his forearm before he made any more of a mess. "Give me a hand here, will you?" He muttered irritably, obviously not much help himself if he could not do the job properly on his own.

“8 o’clock,” Light said anxiously, holding still long enough to let Mello seize his arm. Mello was obviously just as unbalanced as he was, but sobering up rather quickly, though his fingers fumbled with the wrapping.

“Just pull it tight—I can’t risk any blood.” Light held his spinning head, “Goddamnit, how the hell am I gonna do this in this condition?? What sort of drugs do you have around here that won’t fuck up my head?”

Naked Kira asking for drugs while bleeding all over Mello’s fingers…now he’d seen everything.

And pull it tight he did, winding it several times around his arm while distributing the bulk so that it would not look bunched beneath his clothes. "I don't know what else L's got lying around here," he spared him a curious glimpse. "Obviously the morphine fucks with you more than it does me, so my suggestion is pop a few pain killers, grin and bear it. Might want to make this quick also." As if the latter needed saying. Mello inspected his handywork. Not too bad. "Go get yourself dressed and stop wasting time. I'll see if there's anything to learn here..." he sank down to one knee and turned the laptop to face him. "I'll also need a shirt," he added as an afterthought. When Light did not immediately move, Mello looked up to him questioningly. "Get the fuck moving!"

Light’s brow knit, “Don’t fucking curse at me!” He snapped but he was moving anyway, grunting and growling at the pain in his arm. Mello had wrapped it tight alright, so fucking tight Light was losing feeling in his fingers. “What is L thinking?!?” He yelped, tearing through the armoire, trying to find under garments. “What the hell is he thinking?!? And what’s wrong with your boyfriend that he didn’t stop him?!? Some of these people are seriously fucked in the head, you know—if they figure out he’s L…they’re going to do something medieval to him…”

There was part of Mello that wanted to stop and analyze that statement, considering it was coming from Kira. He could have also quickly decided Kira was so angry and flustered about being left out at that moment because L was messing up his plans on some royal scale…however that was not the impression Mello was getting. In an odd flare of what seemed to be genuine honesty, Light very much appeared purely concerned for L’s well-being…

And on that thought, a black Armani dress shirt landed on Mello’s head. “It’s what I have,” Light grumbled, pulling on garments rather hastily; “Take it or leave it.”

Mello held it up for a moment and marveled that he was about to put on one of Kira’s shirts…like they were uni roommates or something—now there was a trippy thought. He had to stop having those…

Buttoning buttons however was quite a complicated feat for both of them. Mello left his shirt mostly open, Light on the other hand, suffered through the whole process, cursing and swearing at the pain in his arm. He disappeared again into the bathroom and the distinct sound of an overly-intelligent grown-up wrestling with a child-protective medicine cap filled the air. There was a pop and a rainfall of pills, and a whole string of very colorful Japanese swear words, before he was out again, cramming god-knows how many into his mouth. “I need coffee,” he muttered, grabbing a tie and wrapping it around his neck. Every movement of his left arm made him wince and complain. He messed the knot up, swore, and did it again.

It was a pity there was precious little time to reflect on the state of Kira at that moment. Disregarding the circumstances, it was absolutely hysterical, and Mello couldn’t suppress that hitched grin despite himself.

“I need a line into their com link,” Light was saying, tying the tie for a third time. “I need to know absolutely everything they’re doing—what they’re saying, where they’re seated, who’s around them—I need every single ounce of information before I go in there because I have one shot at this, and if someone so much as touches me wrong, I can’t guarantee I’m not going to collapse into painful convulsions on the spot…”

Mello took a deep exasperated breath. Light may have been handling his pain better than expected, but he was being just a tad melodramatic. Then again, maybe him going in at all wasn’t such a good idea… who’d decided on this plan anyway?

“Try breathing for starters,” Mello grumbled. “Then make a wild attempt to stop bitching.”

Light’s brow furrowed. “I have to bitch now,” he justified, and his tone was rushed, the Japanese just a blur to Mello’s weary head. “So I won’t bitch later. I can’t show any pain at all in front of her…not even the slightest flinch…” he thought about it, all the while still wrestling with the tie…a first for him apparently. “Fuck, how am I going to do this?!?”

Mello stood up abruptly and spun Light at his good shoulder. He grabbed the tie, despite his own useless limb, and quickly tied it much to Light’s very warranted surprise. Mello’s green gaze caught the gaping look on Kira’s face. “Not a word,” he threatened. And Light shrugged it off, “Yeah... sure………thanks.”

This whole thing was now far too bizarre to be real…

Later on when they weren't in the middle of what could quite possibly turn out to be a crisis, both would probably reflect on this and wonder what the hell they'd been on at the time. Morphine was the culprit, surely. Whatever the reason, Mello made certain that knot was tied to perfection and the collar pulled down just right before waving him off and returning to the laptop to acquire them both feeds through the comlink L and Matt were currently using. "Here," he said after a couple of minutes. "I've turned the input off so they won't be able to hear us 'till we're there." It would not do good to alert them ahead of time and possibly blunder whatever mess they'd already gotten themselves into. Perhaps he was showing too little faith, but it just did not seem like the type of plan that L could perfectly execute and therein lay the problem.

A call was made and a car would be waiting for them downstairs, its driver already knew to vacate at their arrival. But before any more could be made to step out that door, all had to be perfect. Mello was flinching as he tugged on his boots but did not utter a complaint; Light was bitching enough for the both of them so he felt no need to add to the mix. He checked the time. Not too bad. Just under half an hour to make it to the cafe and get the other two out of there.

Mello retreated into the guest bedroom, locating his belt and tugging it around his waist. It was then that he found one of his weapons missing and scowled. Until then it had been Light who'd been experiencing the bitching fit, outraged that L should do such a thing, but that little detail - that Matt had resorted to taking the weapon along - was enough to set him off. He muttered a curse and tucked the lone firearm away, tugging his hair into a short pony tail at the nape of his neck and cringing as his shoulder protested at the movement. Sunglasses were snatched up as he vacated the bedroom. "You ready?" But even before he could say anything further, Mello frowned and strode toward him.

He'd seen Kira at his best and at his worst. Right now, Light was somewhere in between. Not good. Most definitely not good. "Look at me," he urged, hating that he still had to look up at him; just a few centimeters made all the difference. Pupils were slightly dilated; there was the faintest sheen of sweat upon his brow. Outwardly he looked presentable; expensive suit, equally pricey cologne, the pristine sweep of hair over his eyes; but Mello knew him - had had plenty of time to become accustomed to Kira's quirks. Right now he could see the discomfort in his face. "Whatever you're feeling right now will only be made worse if you fuck this up. So for all our sakes, pull yourself together and do not fuck this up. Do your best, or your worst - whatever the hell it is right now - and woo that goddamned woman. We've got a limited amount of time here." There was no use reminding him that L's very life was on the line on this one. That he'd stuck his neck out so that this investigation could move forward regardless of consequences.

"Let's go," and Mello pulled the door open and nodded toward the deserted hallway.

Light was still obviously suffering pain even as they made it down to the lobby. The lengthening darkness outside seemed to relieve him a bit and he climbed into the car, slumping as much as he could in the spacious back seat without wrinkling the suit. Mello slid into the driver’s seat and his gaze flashed at Light in the rearview.

“Tell me you can do this.” Heck of a time to ask, but there wasn’t a whole lot of choice. Thankfully over the com, L seemed to be holding his own…what the scene actually looked like…well, Mello couldn’t help but picture the detective sitting there crouched in a chair dunking sugar cubes as the 5th Kira watched on in horror. He was of course willing to give L more credit than that, but that was the image that immediately sprung to mind even though Light had already made mention of L using his pretty-boy supply again.

“I can do this, just drive.” Light snapped, he was pressing his eyes closed. “I just need to pull it together—I have to be in and out as fast as possible, so give me no more than 5 minutes before you bring the car around no matter what you hear over the com. I’m sweeping in and pulling him out.”

“And what if—” Mello started to growl, steering the car with one arm Mad Max style.

“No what ifs—in and out even if I have to drag L by the hair.”

“And you have a plan?”

“I’ll have a plan before I walk in there—I just haven’t thought of it yet.”

Kira’s brain was definitely on vacation and Mello was getting twitchy. When Light jerked suddenly in the back seat, Mello’s gaze darted to him, and in a moment of abject OMG WTF—watched Light pull out a very telling piece of plain notebook paper.

“What are you doing?” Mello snarled and Light’s amber gaze shot up at him in the reflection. “Give me a name,” he said suddenly. “Don’t think about this too much, just give me the name of some mafia bastard who Kira couldn’t normally find through news feeds.”

“No,” Mello growled.

“Don’t argue with me!” Light growled back. “It’s on my fucking hands, so just give me the goddamn name!!” He paused as though he’d forgotten this particular little detail.. “…and pull up a picture on the laptop…”

Kira’s brain was on vacation.

F u ck.

This most definitely was not happening right now. Son of a bitch.

He knew Light was right, but regardless of that fact, Mello found himself in a rather tight situation. Of course he could rattle off a name or two, that wasn't the tough part; and naturally the mafia wasn't the most innocent organization the face of the earth, but at the same time this was Kira he was dealing with. Which was the greatest evil?

"Antonello Giordano," he finally passed out the death sentence through gritted teeth.

Thankfully his right hand had not been afflicted, he thought darkly, gearing up as he took the first turn, then through the creative use of one knee to help the steering wheel along, pulled up a visual, turning the laptop on the passenger's seat to face Light once an appropriate picture was up. And in that moment everything Mello had ever believed regarding this case; every semblance of right and wrong, white or black had just become one hell of a murky shade of gray. He'd just willingly handed Kira the name and face of his next victim. He'd fed the very activity he'd spent years fighting against. Shit. What had become of all of them?

* * *

19:57 They would be late for the encounter, but that was all right. A fashionable late entrance wouldn't hurt them too much. If anything it would add to the glamour; to the overall effect they were going for here. F u ck. I can't believe I'm doing this, Mello reflected, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he took another turn. They'd be there in less than ten minutes.

Nevertheless there was something odd about watching Light scribble the name down on the paper. He checked his watch, and Mello understood this nuance, this act, was something Yagami Light had repeated hundreds of thousands of times. And yet despite the fact that Mello had been around Light now for a good deal of time—more time than he’d ever thought or wanted, and despite the fact he’d seen Kira’s ugliest face and his prettiest—had experienced him at his most manipulative and at his weakest—had even been saved by him—the reality of suddenly *watching* him kill was something so mundane it was sublime, because Light didn’t even bat an eye. There was no morality there—not at that moment, probably not ever. He squinted at the picture—his photographic memory taking a well-practiced snapshot, and he wrote down the name. Done. And now Antonello would be dead in minutes—wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he was about to drop dead, and some would pass it off as a well-deserved heart attack because he’d had more than his share of pasta at dinner, and others would immediately whisper that one simple word: Kira.

Mello knew the underground, he knew the mafia—he knew despite every wiseguy and consigliere walking the streets of the world, they feared Kira. Kira—unbeknownst to Light—had as many mob contracts out on his life as perhaps one man could muster. By this point, Kira was a bigger threat than L, because L still abided by some semblance of the law. And even if L had closed more mob cases than anyone on the planet, those guys serving time were doing just that—serving time—alive. Kira took no prisoners and made no attempts to snare anyone on tax-evasion beefs, he just killed. Like he did just now. No questions, no thoughts, no sympathy on how Antonello had gone from a poor boy in the streets of Rome to one of the most brutal hitmen in the mafia—no cares on how much of a bastard his father was when he’d burned his mother to death in their house, or all the hate that fuelled a man like Antonello to drive him to those heights of vengeance and beyond—the blood, sweat, tears and strength it took to survive in the world of the mob—no, none of that mattered. Kira sat in the back of a limo, in an expensive suit, and killed him cold, and didn’t spare it another thought.

“You’re thinking too much,” and Light had perceived the moral dilemma just in the reflection of Mello’s eyes. “It’s only ever been for the greater good whether you agree with me or not. But tonight, you and I both know we’re about to do whatever it takes to save the people we love. So there’s no room for discussion over the morality of the Death Note.”

Mello didn’t say anything, and Light ended it there.

Less than 10 minutes later, they passed the outside of the café. No one jumped out immediately as L, and had they not seem him the day before shined up like a new penny, neither of them would have recognized him sitting there on the first go-around.

“They’re in the front.” Light said, and his eyes snagged on L, acting very much like Light at least insofar as manner. The thought actually flattered him slightly. “Drive around the back, I’ll go in through the kitchen. I’m not just going to walk right into it this that way.”

Mello obeyed, he knew Matt was several blocks away, and just as Light was about to get out of the car—the pain still there in his posture, L said over the com: “Every single one of them?” And Bella answered: “Si.”

Light stopped dead, and he and Mello exchanged almost horrified glances. Here they’d been preparing to face just the 5th Kira, since neither Matt nor L had given any indication until that moment that Bella had company. Except now everything changed. Now Light wasn’t about to have a quick seduction-sit-down with Kira #5, he was about to make an appearance before his entire church. And that, he definitely hadn’t been prepared for…

There was no room for hesitation; no time to think of the proper course of action. Mello drove them around the back of the building and saw with an added twinge of horror, Matt run at full speed back to the scene just on the other side of the street. Nothing he could do to help him now. The car swung around the service alley, dropping Light off at the rear of the building. A short glance was shared but he said nothing. Dared say nothing at all. A brief nod was all he had for Light at that moment - perhaps a silent good luck before the door was closed and Mello left to the suffocating silence of the car. He watched the clock on the dashboard.

20:05.

All previous moral qualms were for the moment forgotten; just another strike on the list of things that were making him rather unhappy at the present moment. His goddamned fucking shoulder was high on the list. Forehead pressed to the steering wheel as Mello grit his teeth against the agonizing pain that he'd kept tucked away beneath the surface for Light's benefit. It would not have done either of them any good for him to show weakness when he wanted the other man to pull this off; when he was urging him to be the damned good actor he was and do this stunt without shedding a sweat.

20:07

Light was playing her. Every last one of them was buying this act, ready to fall prostrate at their God's feet. Unbelievable. But that was what they'd hoped to accomplish right? That was the main point of this all too foolish plan.

20:10

Mello pulled the car around, coming to a halt right outside the cafe's main entrance. L looked furious to a point he'd never seen before. Good. That made two of them. Now that they were being pulled out and back at the hotel within minutes, Mello could allow himself to be annoyed; he could afford the anger he'd repressed all this time since first coming to the realization of what L and Matt had tried to pull. Thus, he did not sound particularly cheerful as he turned his comlink's input on and grumbled, "Matt, we’re picking you up three blocks from here…”

* * *

When L had said ‘every single one of them,’ Light had to wonder if he understood he was referring to the café staff as well. Thankfully the kitchen didn’t catch a good look at him as he peeled through quickly otherwise pots and pans may have gone flying, but the moment he hit the inside of the café it was showtime, because the first waitress who saw him nearly fainted on the spot. It was that split second Light realized this place had to have been owned by ring members—it was a safe haven for them, and each and every one of them was a member of Kira’s church.

So Light did it. He’d been angsting about this moment since he’d opened his eyes —the pain grinding hard in his head, throbbing in now-numb fingers, the pulling sensation of stitches in his arm over the soreness that still felt as raw as it was—he’d been agonizing the whole ride there how he was going to pull this off in such a state without so much as a flinch to show it; and yet the moment that waitress met him with gaping, imploring eyes—Kira just…clicked.

The transformation in hindsight was seamless and disturbing, and Light let that smooth smile melt over his features, pressing a slender finger to his lips to ask for her silence. Her mouth clamped shut in direct response, and she bowed her head to let him pass. Others froze the way she did as he made his way to the front, but with the slight tilt of his head, and narrow grin in his eyes, all of them dared not speak a word to announce his appearance.

And goddamnit, it felt good.

He was worshipped. Their faces looked to him adoringly—and even if he was vaguely concerned that they all knew him on sight, that Bella had at least shared the image of his identity…it took a back seat to the actual experience of finally, at last, being worshipped among his followers. Light let it soak in, and the pain became secondary—in fact, at that moment, it just didn’t matter and he stood there, suddenly weighing an option he hadn’t given much thought to ironically… not tonight at least.

It could all end here.

One word from him, and L, Mello, Matt—everyone who had any hold on him could be taken out by these people who wanted nothing more than to see his new world. He could win at this moment…except….except there was the deal, wasn’t there? And almost to confirm it, there was Ryuk floating beside L. Would Ryuk kill him if he broke the rules? Shinigami were so damn governed by rules, it was possible. Or would he let it slide? Since it wasn’t anything official, not really, just a game to him…

Light was suddenly weighing the option when he saw and heard Bella snap up L’s wine glass with the intention of printing him. She didn’t believe who he was? Or she was threatened by the Second Kira…most likely the latter—she wanted to be Kira’s Queen, the lover by his side, she wanted L out of the way whether he was L or not…

Light’s arm screamed in pain when he nonchalantly swiped the wine glass from the waiter’s tray and took a sip. The wine hit the pain fast because alcohol and Light never truly got along with each other—and by that moment, he understood without realizing, that he had no intentions of betraying L—in fact why had he been thinking that at all? Now was truly not the time for indecisiveness regarding this situation—and so he continued to approach them; the collected stare of his worshippers heavy on his proud shoulders; clotting thick around him so he could feel it quite palpably. Had he not been concentrating so hard on his poise, the moment Lucia grabbed his hand could have ruined everything—the pain shot through him and he strangled it on impact, the grimace deep in his eyes, hidden by bangs, and all he could do was ignore her and put himself back together in the seconds it took to get to the table…

Bella on the other hand, was magnificently easy to woo. Something in her eyes spoke to him on a level he was only used to from L—she didn’t have a vacant stare like Misa or Takada, she was clever, cunning, smart—and he very much did want that private meeting with her…and he could tell by L’s face that that in and of itself would be a full-blown war to realize. Later that. For now, Kira was operating on his own brand of motor skills, and all he could think of after he handed her the card with the name on it—a business card he’d swiped from the café bar inside—was getting into that car and letting out the pain…

Mello seemed of a similar disposition even as Matt just lost it on everyone. Of course, what the fuck did he have to be angry at? This was his and L’s fuck up after all, Light had just saved their asses. Most of Matt’s outburst was of course directed at his lover in the driver’s seat—so Mello was gritting in agony but it seemed like it was all happenstance at that point because they’d just pulled off the impossible considering the circumstances.

There was no way Matt intended his tantrum to be funny, Mello certainly wasn’t laughing, L had yet to respond in any way, but Light caught Mello’s gaze in the rearview, and in a moment everything they’d just done to pull their act together in the last hour found it’s way into his face—and he burst out in hysterics. Nearly maniacal hysterics, but hysterics so bad the tears were running down his cheeks, and maybe that was the pain coming out in droves after he’d held it in for so long—and maybe this whole clusterfuck was just that damn funny.

Matt was horrified, L was disturbed, and Mello watched him in the mirror for a moment, before he too started laughing and oh fuck it hurt, but goddamned did it relieve the impossible tension off his shoulders to just... laugh. A quiet chuckle at first, but the sight of Light clearly lost in whatever thoughts he might've had at the moment or perhaps the amalgamation of stress and pain and pressure all coupled into one, now released because, by God they were all right - miraculously so, and it was just impossible to ignore. Mello had seen Kira flailing, he'd seen the worry, he'd seen the strain, he'd helped the bastard tie his fucking tie! And just then in five minutes of pure, unabashed glory, it had all worked out.

Perhaps, he should've kept the car moving, but just then he couldn't as Mello leaned back in the cushioned leather seat, thew his head back against the rest and just... laughed. There was something all together disturbing about the sight and it showed upon Matt's face; the horror, the confusion but yes, primarily the horror. The sight alone, made the entirety of the situation all the more ridiculous, but Mello couldn't stop. Even as the motion drove sharp pangs of pain through his shoulder and jabbed mercilessly somewhere in his abdomen. "Oh...shit..." he gasped after several moments of utter insanity, for it could have been nothing else. The other two were speechless. Light was still giggling in the back seat. Mello pursed his lips, but the laughter was still mirrored upon his gaze as he gripped the wheel, steadying himself and pulling back out onto the street. Could not afford to linger for too long.

Matt's question had not been answered and when it looked as if the younger man was about to say something, Mello held up a hand. "Let me get us back first..." he returned, straining to keep a serious face. Who would have ever thought?

But the redhead was caught in an emotion somewhere between put off and downright bloody confused. What in the holy hell was so goddamned funny? Last he checked they'd just about blundered this whole ordeal, so why the freakin' hysterics? He glared at Light, who had yet to regain some semblance of the control he'd exhibited just minutes earlier, but that unhappy gaze fell back on his lover. And then Mattt noticed it – Mello was wearing one of Light's - Kira's! - own shirts. The situation was only getting stranger by the moment, but as directed, Matt said nothing through the remainder of the short drive.

It did give him time to cool off, however. The shock washing away and the relief at having been bailed seeming to take over. Because, truth be told, Light had indeed saved their asses. His and L's both. Regardless of how well the encounter was going, that trick with the wine class seemed poised to fuck it all up in the worst way. But now they had gained further information, at least. That cafe was off limits as far as Matt was concerned; the whole damned staff blind worshippers that had now seen the face of God and beheld his presence. Dangerous. Too goddamned dangerous that every last one of them had known on sight who Kira was. It would become all the more difficult to move around freely now.

Mello pulled up in front of the hotel and beat the doorman to the chase in pulling open the back door, motioning his two passengers inside before taking the limo to the lot in the back.

"You shouldn't be walking around like this, much less driving his ass around," Matt muttered as he got out of the car and they both walked toward the rear entrance, hopping into an elevator that would transport the up six floors to the presidential suite L had predictably leased for the duration of their stay. "What the hell were you thinking?" he hissed as the mirrored doors opened, depositing them onto the correct floor.

It was then as Mello strode from the elevator that he shot Matt a sidelong glance. "Of you perhaps?" he countered fiercely enough to put an end to further questioning. At least for now.

* * *

Light and L weren’t speaking. That was apparent from the moment Matt and Mello entered the presidential suit. Light’s hysterics had ceased before they’d left the car, and in a sudden bout of renewed sobriety, perhaps the first since before the accident, Light had gone back to his cool reserved self, and was quite obviously shutting L completely out.

L, on the other hand, was on the couch, on the laptop before he’d even loosened his own tie. His shoes were off and that was about it, otherwise his focus was on his work, and he was quite obviously shutting Light completely out.

The argument however was loud and clear without even a word being said. They each believed they were correct and justified in their own actions and there was no room for debate. And they both believed the other had been utterly wrong to do what he did…

And there was no room for debate.

So they weren’t speaking, and they probably didn’t even have to announce that fact to each other.

The state of the room however was much less reserved than the current war of egos—there was toppled furniture, every light was on, piles of clothes strewn across the master bedroom, sopping bloody bandages on the bathroom floor—a soaked towel that had obviously dampened the king-sized bed and rendered it thoroughly uncomfortable to sleep in until it dried out.

Matt’s face held the reaction the room was due, even if L treated it as though there was nothing out of the ordinary. Matt however still needed to figure where he stood on the whole thing—there were two sides already apparent, question was, did he take one? Leave it alone? Or establish his own side? He wasn’t about to go against L—but he hadn’t completely agreed with L’s course of action…and he would never agree with Kira, so that was out of the question even if Light had saved their asses, so his eyes went to Mello, who made himself at home on the furthest love seat, letting out that long breath of pain he’d twisted up in himself so tightly. He didn’t acknowledge anything either—in fact he seemed quite happy that it was quiet and no one was talking. So Matt nonchalantly lit a cigarette and started to unpack his gear.

Light crossed the room, having already stripped his jacket off, and loosened his tie with two fingers. He moved from the kitchen into the master bedroom, peeling off his shirt in the process and behind him the distant sound of the espresso machine was percolating to life. That was white noise, and no one much paid attention to it. Mello especially didn’t as he tried to just clear his head and will his nerve endings into cooperating with the notion that it just couldn’t have hurt as much as it did, and they were quite simply mistaken. He rested his head on the back of the loveseat and closed himself off for a few moments.

When the weight settled down beside him, he figured it was Matt, and he was pretty sure Matt wasn’t about to resume any questioning under the current conditions, so he remained as he was and didn’t budge until the familiar waft of chocolate hit his senses…and then all bets were off.

Mello’s eyes opened slowly like an agitated cat, but it wasn’t Matt sitting there handing him a small cup of espresso—obviously (from the overwhelmingly aromatic smell)—laced with rich chocolate……..it was Light.

Mello’s brow knit and he looked at the cup, and then at Kira before taking the offered beverage.

“Figured you could use some,” Light said nonchalantly, having had changed into a more comfortable shirt, but flexing his fingers as though the numbness in them was worsening due to his extraordinarily tight bandages.

Silence followed as Mello obviously was not particularly sure what to say regarding the matter, but the coffee was definitely a blessing - one that could have only been enhanced by the cocoa powder that'd been laced into it. He took a sip, regarding Light curiously over the rim of the small cup, then downed the remainder of its contents, savoring the traces of sugar and cocoa that had settled at the bottom.

"...thanks," Mello murmured, obviously noting how awkward the situation could have been if only he had allowed himself to care just then about the fact that he'd accepted a damned good espresso from Kira himself. Again he could not help but think that everything they'd always known had been tossed violently out the window. It had happened earlier in the car and it happened now. The hell with it. He was in too nasty a mood and drowning a bit too deeply in pain to truly care as to whether or not this little unspoken agreement was breaking any unwritten rules.

Mello did, however, notice the flexing of Light's fingers and lifted a brow. "Are you all right...?" he asked and it was just then that all movement froze from across the room.

In fact, were Mello to look, he would have noticed how Matt fumbled with one of the smaller laptops, practically dropping it as he raised it out of the backpack. Those narrowed blue eyes were trained on the two of them, the cigarette between his lips still firmly in place but there was no hiding the bewilderment and heightened annoyance plastered across his features. It was better not to pay it attention just now. It was better not to give into what could have been considered a bait - or perhaps that was his own anger talking - until the thick tension vacated the room.

“Hmm?” Light was mostly likely pretending this was the most natural question in the world. “Better than I was,” he muttered, studying his hand for a moment. “I should probably get these bandages changed though.”

Probably a good idea. Mello flinched but leaned forward to set the espresso cup down on the coffee table, he released a breath then and pushed himself up, crossing toward the far table to pluck the bandages they'd left behind earlier that evening off the glass. "C'mon," he said to Light with a brief nod toward the bathroom. Bizarre.

Light hesitated a moment, as though he wasn’t expecting Mello to offer. There was a look on his face to say so, but honestly, he’d planned it from the moment he’d turned on the espresso machine. Given his and L’s mutual silent treatment, he wasn’t going to get any help from anywhere else.

“Thanks,” he said, perhaps lower than usual, following Mello into the bathroom.

Mello urged him down onto the stool he himself had occupied the previous night. "Off," was all he said with a slight tug at the shirt Light had just put on, moving past him to dig for the first aid kit that still sat untouched on the edge of the tub.

What a sight they made; bandaged up and in evident pain and still insisting on the movement that would only aggravate their injuries further. Scissors in hand, Mello cut through the all too tight bandages he'd wrapped around Light's wounded arm, letting the blood-stained gauze fall away. It looked bad, but it had looked a hell of a lot worse the previous night. They'd heal up soon enough. The gauze pack was ripped open with his teeth, its sterile packaging tossed carelessly aside. Mello worked wordlessly, yet strangely efficiently despite his own difficulties; using his left hand as little as possible to get the job done. Wounds were cleaned, bruised skin cleared of stains of crimson that had seeped through stitches through the evening.

Light stayed quiet for the most part, wincing in general silence, a hiss escaping over his lips every now and again. But he let Mello work and didn’t insert any of his Kira-brand arrogance or attitude into the situation, thankfully. Seemed even Light sensed when there was a time to stop. Mello cleaned the wound with the sort of focus that spoke of the blatant ignorance he wanted to apply to every other aspect of the moment, but he found himself stealing glances at Light, trying to read him. What was going on here, really?

“Arigato,” Light said, again in that soft tenor tone that didn’t want to truly draw the attention of the other two. “For not making tonight any harder than it was…and for this….”

Those sharp green eyes settled on him, but Mello did not skip a beat, wrapping Light’s arm a bit more delicately than he had earlier that evening. There was not so much of a rush; there was no need to make a tourniquet out of the bandages this time around. "You're welcome..." Sure enough it sounded awkward, but the situation was far from normal. "There's a good possibility that we aggravated any healing progress made throughout the day," he murmured, securing the end of the wraps.

“I figured as much,” Light muttered. “But you’re worse off than me, and it looks like your stitches are ripping…” he motioned to the gauze wrapped around Mello’s stomach. Something else seemed to hang on the air unsaid—a silent offer from Kira to lend Mello a hand, but Mello wasn’t on unspeaking terms with Matt, so Light wasn’t about to flat-out ask…

“I’m probably going to pop some more pills and sleep the rest off,” Light muttered. “I don’t have it in me to accomplish much more tonight…” in other words, he didn’t much feel like getting into a war with L in his condition. It might not have been L he’d be getting into anything with, however, as Matt had situated himself on the loveseat with the best view into the bathroom…

Whatever Mello had been about to say was silenced upon his lips as Light's words sunk in. "You were popping painkillers not an hour ago, might not want to touch 'em 'till morning unless you plan on over dosing any time soon." And while the comment might have been condescending once upon a time, just then Mello sounded simply tired. Weary. And as if there was a necessity to emphasize his point, he swept up the bottle of painkillers that'd been left behind on the bathroom sink, keeping two for himself which were swallowed almost greedily, before shoving the bottle back into the cabinet.

Light was quiet, doing the math on that. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said simply—oddly—and without an argument...perhaps the last batch of painkillers hadn’t worn off yet after all. “I wasn’t paying attention earlier…” his gaze was trained down on the floor as he spoke, and there was obvious exhaustion slumped in his shoulders. Pulling himself together for that little performance and the gigglefest that followed had obviously taken its toll on him…”Do you need any help? I figure you have Matt—” he didn’t face Mello when he said it, but there it was, his offer…

Mello was surprised and it showed. Right hand fell to the edge of the sink, and he did not turn right away, watching Light quietly through the mirror before daring a glimpse over his shoulder. As he did so, he caught the faint waft of expensive cologne upon his person, realizing for the first time since it had fallen on his head earlier that evening, that he still wore the black Armani shirt that had been flung at him in their rush. This whole thing was just entirely too bizarre any way he was to look at it. It had been bizarre since the previous day and had only grown rather than disappear into a more comfortable sense of normalcy. But then again, the fact that Kira walked reasonably free and Mello was to work at his side was far from anything normal anyone could have ever come up with. To a point, Mello and Matt were almost as much prisoners of their fate as Light had become that chaotic night at the warehouse.

But did he dare take up that offer? Did he dare be that careless when everything was already so shaky and tense between all of them? Sure enough, at least Matt was still talking to him despite the fact that he was obviously ticked off to no end, and truthfully, Mello was not any happier with his lover at the present moment. Yet, he was more tired than anything. And it was that weariness rather than spite that made him turn away only to undo the buttons of the borrowed shirt - those that he had bothered with earlier - and let the comfortable fabric fall to reveal the extent of stained bandages. He frowned and began to tug at the ends, but after unwinding it only thrice, he could do little more.

"Give me a hand..." If there was one thing he could count on by accepting Light's offer rather than summoning Matt's help was that there would be - for once - no reprimands, no condescending words, or anything that would eventually send him flying off that thin edge he stubbornly lingered on. Who would have thought.

Light’s gaze jumped a bit when Mello acquiesced, and why did Kira’s weaker moments tend to give Mello pause lately? What was it about those obvious cracks in impenetrable armor that were more than vaguely…fascinating? Was this what drew L sometimes? Mello had always imagined it was the challenge of Kira, the yin for yang, the endless strategizing and cat and mouse but these odd moments of quiet…loneliness? Sadness? Strategizing that wasn’t so confident and arrogant? Had a knack for diffusing the automatic hatred for Kira Mello was formerly imbued with…formerly?

Light reached up with careful fingers to unwind the rest of Mello’s bandages. Mello winced a bit as some of the gauze stuck to wet scabbing and raw stitches, and Light stood up, very delicately peeling it away, making sure to cause the least discomfort as possible. His touch was gentle, delicate and quiet, and despite everything, he seemed to know what he was doing. It made Mello momentarily recall the odd discourse between he and L the night before regarding the tracking chip, but the exhaustion was pretty paramount at that moment, despite the unreadable and gaping look Matt was directing at them from across the room.

Light wasn’t paying attention, gently cleaning Mello’s wounds and not really saying much at all save for an apology or two when Mello hissed at a particularly raw spot.

“You should get some rest too,” Light murmured softly, rewinding the bandages around Mello’s middle, securing them comfortably. “L’s not going to let you leave here until you’re fully recovered so you might as well get comfortable.” He handed the Armani shirt back to Mello. “You can keep the shirt,” he said. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

Light washed his hands in the sink, and didn’t say much else and yet Mello still stood there, as though there was something to be said, but he wasn’t sure what. Just what was going on here? Was Kira truly trying to make friends? Was he being decent only because he was out his other ally in L? Did he want to be decent, or just need someone to bend to his will? There was no trusting Kira ultimately, but that’s what Mello had been doing all night—trusting Kira. Trusting Kira the way L was determined to trust Kira even though Light and the detective weren’t on speaking terms….come morning it might have been altogether different but that was morning, not now, not now after Light had just tended to Mello’s bandages and he to Light’s

Light’s amber eyes followed him, and for all intents and purposes he seemed to be waiting of a response of some sort….Why did it feel as if there were tense, unspoken words between them? Surely that wasn't the case. Not a chance in hell because the situation was already far too confusing already without that extra touch of awkwardness hovering in the air between them.

Mello took that moment of strained silence to pull the dress shirt back on, cringing all the while as the movement only aggravated his shoulder, shooting sharp stabs of pain down the length of his arm. That was going to take some getting used to. That was going to have to get healed as soon as goddamned possible if he was going to be any help. Which directed him back to Light's comment. He blinked as it sunk in. L was going to keep them here? It would seem his head was fuzzier now than it had been all evening. Necessity fading away and leaving him floating about in a semi-drugged stage of consciousness. And while it was not necessarily bad, it was downright unnerving all the same. Fingers pinched the bridge of his nose.

The moment passed. "Thanks.." he murmured and tugged the tie from his hair, letting it fall loose against his shoulders. Not only was it in a haphazard state of disarray that would make Light blanch under normal circumstances, it was also getting long. Just then neither truly mattered. Again that silence.

Taking over the sink, Mello splashed cold water against his face as if that alone would be sufficient in clearing his head. The espresso should have done something, but even though he felt generally awake, the exhaustion of the last couple of days was quite strong.

"You might want to talk to him before you crash," Mello suggested without looking at Light; his gaze instead turned toward the living room, looking not at Matt but at L's still too silent form staring intently into the depths of the computer screen. Had he just really given Light something along the lines of - dare he think it? - relationship advice? The thought was downright absurd and laughable, but that was exactly what it sounded like.

"Even if it's just to call him on both their foolishness tonight, but the silent treatment can only last so long." And there it was, the cherry on the damn cake. Mello’s gaze turned to Light and there was no judgment there, no outrage at the thought of their too-bizarre relationship... just a misplaced touch of understanding. For now it would slide. Just tonight things could be all right and they could even manage to be civil. What had the world come to?

Light watched Mello wince as he tried to get the shirt over his bad shoulder, and too quickly moved to help him get the fabric adjusted. Just to fall in line with the continuing odd developing...bond? between them, Mello let him and Light's fingers brushed his skin as he adjusted the collar, unfolding it against Mello's bruised neck.

"Talking to him is something I have no energy for right now," Light said softly, and Mello was not very used to his voice so close. "Not until I can sort out where the good and bad lay on all sides in regards what happened tonight. But don't worry, I'll take care of it. You should get some rest. If there's one thing I do know it's that we'll need to be meeting with some of these people again and we can't do it falling apart the way we are. We were lucky tonight."

Light took a deep breath and his gaze trained passed Matt blatantly staring at the hushed conversation between Kira and his lover—the slightly tender exchange of bandages and shirt dressing—to the rather stoic figure of L on the couch. Another deep breath and Light moved out of the bathroom away from Mello, but not before giving him a grateful pat on his good shoulder.

"Get some sleep," he said.

Mello didn't expend the energy to think on much of anything at that moment. But he did watch Light approach L directly. He stopped over L's shoulder and just stood there, the two of them not speaking, L not even moving to look at him. It was a long moment, and then L closed the laptop and got up and moved into the master bedroom, and Light followed him. The door closed and that was it. How they dealt with each other at times like these was anyone's guess because their relationship was obviously anything but normal.

So that just left Mello and Matt and a lingering sense of being in the Twilight Zone at that moment...