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Cries in the Night	By : pinkfeline Category: Death Note > Yaoi-Male/Male Views: 5064 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 5

When at last Light was able to reign in his panic, he stopped and leaned against a wall, panting heavily. He closed his eyes as he took a moment to simply breathe and when his head cleared at last he began to think. Considering his options, he looked around at his surroundings. He recognised the area to be close to his home. Instinct must have been guiding him to the one place he had always thought himself safe in until recently. His house � his room.

But it wasn�t safe there anymore. L had invaded that small sanctuary, and so would the people who would come after him. None the less, that was what his next destination was to be. He had to gather a few things, if he was to be on the run, as the clothes on his back could only do so much and last so long. He needed money most of all. With some plan in mind, the distressed teen set forth.

He fought with himself the entire way. All his life he had been taught the ideals of justice. He had learned to hate thieves, rapists, and drug traffickers and not to mention � murderers. He had killed L, so he was a murderer now wasn�t he? But he hadn�t meant to do it! He hadn�t wanted to kill the detective, especially not after the peculiar consideration that he had been shown that same night.

He tried to force the memories and their corresponding emotions to the back of his mind. He would deal with that later, when he was offered even the smallest amount of safety.

Considering the early hour, his house was dark and quiet, the occupants clearly still asleep. Light did not sigh in relief but eased his way into the house, gliding through the dark, up the stairs and to his own door. He paused. It had been a while since he had set foot in his room, and this was probably to be the last time. The last time he would be in his house, in the presence of his family though they knew it not. Berating himself for the moment of sentimentality, he pushed his door open as quietly as possible.

He did not turn on the light; his night vision made it easy enough to see. He wasted no time in grabbing a small bag and stuffing a few items of clothing therein. He found his wallet in the drawer, and when he checked inside found that his money was still there. He had no use for it from the moment he had been confined, and his father must have returned it here for him. He was thankful for it considering he had not bothered to get any of his possessions when he had fled HQ.

Lastly he quickly changed into a new set of clothes. He would draw more attention if he continued out in the street in his pjs. With everything set to go, Light was suddenly bombarded with his own conscious once more in that small gap of inactivity. He slid down one wall and put his head in his hands.

He had killed.

Not just anyone either. He had killed L, and now he was running like a coward. He was becoming what he despised. Instead of running he should be turning himself in, that was the moral thing to do. But Light hadn�t meant to do it, he wasn�t even sure what had possessed him to do it. He didn�t want to go to jail � he didn�t want that scar over everything he had achieved in his life. He was a top student of Japan, his future was promising and yet he had been a Kira suspect. And now he had killed.

He curled tighter in on himself as his thoughts taunted him.

Coward.

Murderer.

Kira?

His fingers curled into his hair, tugging at the strands in distress.

What to do?

Light tried to still his rapid breathing, but he could not. He was shaking; he was angry and upset. He was uncertain and terrified. For once he simply could not think on how to proceed. He closed his eyes, wishing for it to be a dream, and without his knowledge he quietly slipped into sleep.

A gentle breeze played over his face, the scent of many flowers curling around him and waking his senses. Looking around he found himself within a garden, leaves of emerald green spotted by varying hues of pinks, yellows, purples and whites stretching and twining into the landscape that stretched as far as his eyes could see. The sky above was a deep shade of cobalt blue, blemished by patches of turquoise and white. There was no sun or moon to mark the time, though there was light enough, and even shadows appeared peculiarly absent.

Light walked, and walked still until he could make out a figure ahead on his path. Again the man remained faceless, his form tall and dark against the bright colours of nature. As Light neared he found his gaze pulled down to an object clasped in the stranger�s hands. It was solid, unrelenting black and rectangular in shape. A book, he thought, though he could not say for certain.

Coming to a stop but a few feet from the faceless stranger, Light found his gaze firmly locked onto the black objects, his eyes unresponsive to the demands he made. He did not care for the object but wished to catch a glimpse of the face of the man haunting his dreams, yet his eyes would not move.

His body shifted, his arm rising as though by the skilful manipulation of a puppet master pulling on his strings, reaching for that unforgiving shape. As his fingers grazed the object, his body was infused with an unrelenting and paralysing cold. The colours around him seemed to swirl and blend into an ugly mess, pulling and draining into the black surface of the book as though it was being sucked in. Like paint from a canvas, all colour fled and was consumed by that horrible black book leaving behind a colourless and barren wasteland.

Light caught but a mere glance of it before he felt an invisible force pulling him too and all too suddenly the small black book became a large hungry void. Fear rattled him, instinct crying out

It was a bone deep chill and painfully stiff neck that woke him. The weak light from an early sun dancing on the floor at his feet. He stared at the beams of light bemusedly before the situation finally clicked in his mind. It was morning. He had slept through the night. Panic flared back into life, his heart playing an unsteady skipping beat that left him gasping for breath.

His limbs jerked at the unexpected mental assault and he would have jumped up had his legs not been so stiff and sore. His arms felt weak as he tried to use them to lever himself up, and when at last he stood, he was nearly floored again by a sudden wave of disorientation and nausea.

If this was what murderers felt like after killing, he could not fathom how some managed to do so repeatedly. He felt thoroughly dirty and weak � a mess.

Shivers began wracking his body in response to a physical and emotional chill that he could not ward off. Weakness and hunger nibbled at his body as well as exhaustion, robbing him of energy that he was in desperate need of. He moved towards the door in a slow shuffle, his feet dragging. He had to get out. He had to escape. He reached the door and only then remembered the small duffel bag he had packed with his necessities. Looking back he saw it sitting at the foot of his bed, a terrible distance from the door.

He had to go get it, or he would not survive long. Stumbling, Light made his way to the bed and collapsed half way. His body was so heavy and tired. Breathing hard and covered in a cold sweat, Light slipped back into the unconscious.

______

His body felt strangely weightless, his limbs unattached. With such awareness came a sudden flood of pain, centring in his head and neck. With a weak groan he sat up, lukewarm water caressing his naked form. He wondered how he came to be in such a position, for truly he had never fallen asleep in the bath. No, indeed as an insomniac that was quite low on probability.

Hands touched his shoulder briefly and he turned to trace them to the gently concerned face of his assistant Watari. Slowly and with much care he eased himself out of the bath and was quickly engulfed in a large soft towel. Still feeling a little disorientated, L let Watari guide him and fuss over him, his mind already on the strange events that had transpired before.

What had possessed him to climb into the bath with the Yagami teen? Well, that was somewhat of a mystery in itself. Perhaps it was that stunted part of himself that recognised and felt compassion for the misery the teen appeared to be immersed in. It was not difficult to notice the boy�s shivering, nor the depression in normally warm eyes.

So then what was wrong with the boy? Oh there were many theories, common symptoms, but L knew it was something else. He was starting to suspect that the changes Light was undergoing - the weight loss, depression, nausea, exhaustion � perhaps it all was due to either having been Kira or having been controlled by him. But then why had Misa not shown similar symptoms? Yes, her reign as Second Kira started later than the first, but putting that into consideration would still have Misa showing some form of change.

He glanced into the mirror as he dressed and saw clearly the mark at his neck where Light had bitten him. Now what in the world would posses even Kira to bite him? He stepped closer in order to examine the wound and found it to be very curious. With a small frown and a little tilt of his head, L ran over the theories crowding his mind.

"Where is Yagami-kun?"

His voice sounded oddly loud in the silence, as though spoken to an empty room. Watari was standing in the doorway though and so he knew that his words were heard.

"The boy fled"

Well that was somewhat surprising, though it shouldn�t be. Perhaps it was the cool, unaffected persona that the boy wrapped himself around that made it strange to consider that he fled. But then Light was still young and only human after all. Kira or not.

"You let him go?"

There was no accusation in the detective�s voice, merely a statement of fact. Watari gave a short small nod in answer.

"I had little choice"

Now there was an intriguing statement.

"When you are feeling better, sir, I would like you to have a look at the footage. Perhaps you can explain better than what my eyes perceive to be truth."

The elder man set down the tray he had been bringing in, the soft noise of clinking porcelain revealing some of the contents. L did not have to look to know that it was Earl Grey tea in the pot, with cream and sugar aplenty. In addition though, and much to his delight, was an assortment of candies and chocolate. Exactly what he needed to get back to his feet and his mind running at full capacity.

Watari�s formalities revealed the degree of the old man�s discomfort. Whether it was the strange events of the evening, or the injury to himself that had his assistant so, L could not yet decide. It was in all probability a mixture of both. It was no secret off course that Watari was somewhat fond of L, in such as a grandfather would look upon the offspring of a favoured child.

L finished his tea and took a handful of the sweets before following Watari, curious as to what had unnerved the elder man so.

_____

Voices swirled restlessly around him, an ocean of noise that disturbed the tranquillity of the darkness that cradled him. The volume of sound rose to a tumultuous roar before slowly fading into a quiet whisper. The dramatic fluctuation alarmed something within him, sparking the beginnings of a hard battle for consciousness.

Strength was in short supply, but need urged him on. His mind woke slowly, allowing the streams of coherent thought and memory to filter through. It filled him with unease, increasing his struggles.

When at last he felt he had no more strength, his eyes slid open to a world washed in white. Fever burned his skin, pain exploding behind his eyes and throbbing through his temples. His mouth felt inordinately dry, his throat parched. He wished suddenly to return to the darkness, to escape this tortuous state, but the niggling unease allowed him no relief.

His forced his eyes to examine, his head to turn. All around him, walls of white and the distinct cloying taste of sterility. His heart felt uncomfortably heavy as it thudded unceremoniously against his chest, his breath a series of short hasty gasps. He fought for some stability, for an anchor in which to ground him.

Where was he and how did he come to be there?

He remembered the caress of water against his skin, the rich taste of blood on his tongue. What then? Deep impressions of fear and anxiety � the chilling touch of the night wind as he fled. The pain and the exhaustion that had dragged at him. He had planned to flee, to run and to hide � from who?

Pitiless black eyes set within a pale lean face. Watching him, gauging and testing. Anger and hate spread it�s cold fingers around his heart � surprising him. Where did such intense loathing find it�s source and what fed it?

L

L..L�L�L

That simple letter flittered tauntingly through his find, gleeful and mischievous, delighting in his misery.

A soft hiss of noise drew his attention outward, the ominous echo of footfalls drawing ever nearer. Turning he found two pairs of eyes watching him. Clear blue � inquiring but impersonal. Black � flat and empty and pitiless in their intensity.

A flood of relief and fear � two desperate emotions twisting and warring within his gut.

Where was he?

L�L..L.

Blue eyes was speaking, a dull drone, meaningless to his ears. All he could concentrate on was those dark eyes and the intoxicating scent of their owner. Familiar and dangerous, and oh so very much alive.

L

His breathing hitched when he came to a new realisation. He could not move. He flexed his hand but could not move his arm � he wanted to reach out. With restrained panic he made the effort to glance down his body. Thick black bindings bound his arms to his side, his body to the bed.

Anger stole what was left of his breath, a snarl ripping from between clenched teeth. But it faded. The anger detached itself, spreading through his body but casting his mind back into the darkness. He sensed more than felt hands on his body � hard and cold, before he lost all grips on reality and returned to the peaceful tranquillity of sleep.

L watched it all, the empty brown eyes filled with something akin to animalistic fear and rage and flickering with the fading vestiges of intelligence and the teen he had come to know so well. He watched too, as those eyes closed and the body relaxed into unconsciousness and for a moment mourned the loss of something he could not name.

Here was Light Yagami - bright, intelligent and prideful teen - immobilised and bound.

He had not seriously thought to find the boy in his room � merely the traces and clues that Light had indeed fled. Instead, collapsed and dangerously chilled, they had come upon Light where the boy had passed out. The tension that had taken him since that moment had yet to leave him, even three days hence that strange and eventful night.

Kira was still killing, but Light�s story was deeply interwoven � this L knew. How it all fit and just exactly what that story was � that is what he had to uncover. Reveal the entirety of Light�s thread within this mess of events and they would catch Kira.

Watching the fallen form of his comrade and tentative �friend� � L felt no satisfaction. Only a curious sense of emptiness that dulled his senses, until even his beloved cake was but a mouthful of sand.

_____

AN: My apologies for the delay. The amount of reviews I received the last chapter was delightful, and my sincere thanks to each one who took the time to let me know what they thought � and for each little encouragement. I don�t know when the next chapter will come, but be patient � this story is not over yet!
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Cries in the Night