Redeemer

Mello cast him a sharp look. “Has something happened?” He asked, already hurrying around the desk. Seeing as he never did go anywhere unarmed, it was almost a pointless order, so he palmed one of the pearly white pistols and crossed to the doorway. Matt exchanged a look with the two of them before heading past L and straight upstairs into their bedroom to retrieve the necessary artillery.

“It’s definite someone is in the house,” L muttered. “—the cameras caught them the hall while everyone was otherwise occupied in the kitchen…” L didn’t elaborate and didn’t point a finger directly at Kira, but it was in his tone—that grim acceptance he’d let Kira slip under the radar—it was also in his tone that he didn’t want to hear a word about it from either of his younger protégés; but that didn’t necessarily mean they would listen.

Someone did not particularly mean BB, now did it? Mello lifted a brow but nodded all the same. Upstairs he could hear the hurried fall of heavy boots and slam of a door. He moved out onto the well lit hallway. “Plan of action should that someone be found?”

“Shoot to wound, but don’t kill any of my staff,” L mumbled, and Mello caught the very unlikely shape of a firearm tucked in the back of L’s jeans under his shirt. “Linda is locked in the study on surveillance, we can patch in to her via headset—Light is handcuffed to the bed in his room, and will be staying that way until further notice. I have Dr. Gregory on alert, but everyone has been firmly told to stay in their respective rooms and to not come out until I give the all-clear.”

“Understood,” he stated plainly. Business it was. Matt was making his way back down the stairs to join them, properly armed even though he did not keep it in sight. The tinted lenses fell back down over his eyes, making things a bit less fuzzy. All hints that anything had been amiss only minutes prior were gone. Just the three of them then. That was fine.

Mello flipped the little wireless earpiece in his hand and inserted it in place. “All right. Got a particular plan of attack in mind?” he asked L. Whoever was there could not have many places to hide. Linda best be alert, eyes peeled on those damned screens, too. It was going to be a lengthy night.

“Systematic sweep starting from the top,” L muttered. “Light’s chambers in particular—we secure every room from top to bottom. If we find nothing, I start buying into that ghost theory.”

His humor was flat and strictly British at that moment as he pushed passed Matt to lead them both back up the stairs. “The figure was seen crossing from Linda’s room to yours. But stuck to the shadows—it was only seen once, and I’ve already checked both rooms—not a trace.” L was shuffling rather quickly but stopped in the middle of the second-level balcony, digging a lollipop out of his pocket to shove in his mouth, he pointed to the opposite ends of the hall—“We start at either end and work our way to the middle with the intent of flushing it out. We double cover the ground so we each pass both sides—then we go down, and continue—understood?”

Matt and Mello both nodded, and L slurped his lolli. “B likes to hide under beds, in closets and in the shadows—leave nothing unchecked.”

Ah that B business again. Right. They split up then. Matt had just recently been in their bedroom without incident, but that did not mean anything. L had also already checked it without any luck. Mello started there anyway, remembering Linda’s panic the previous night and how there had been nothing on screen. The lights flickered on in several rooms at once and he closed the door behind him. The safety was clicked off and he proceeded within to sweep the entirety of the perimeter, making it a point to check the most cliché of places as well as more original spots. Curtains were shoved aside, closet door thrust open, it’s contents shifted, the typical spot beneath the bed swept with little incident. In the adjacent room, Matt was doing the same and with the bedroom effectively swept Mello moved to the door, halting only to glimpse upward at the ceiling. But the stucco top offered no escape routes and all central air ducts were no bigger than six inches square. Onto the next room it was.

They met in the middle and no one had found a thing, L of course was keeping in constant contact with Linda the whole time, safely tucked away in a well-lit study. She had yet to see anything on screen; but she sounded unnerved all the same, she did not like being alone, even if she was locked in.

Mello and Matt switched sides with L, and worked their way to the end of the hall. Light was still awake by the time they reached his room, which L had probably already checked ten times over. Kira was amused, to some degree, but growing impatient because now it was late, and he wanted to go to bed.

He was partially ready, half under the covers, book tucked on raised knees, handcuff chain still quite secure around his wrist. His eyes lifted up as Mello entered the room.

“Again?” he muttered. “L already checked about ten times.”

“Yea, but who knows I might get lucky,” Mello returned with little humor because this was indeed getting silly. “Don’t mind me,” he murmured, standing several feet into the doorway and simply allowed his eyes to sweep the room at first, wishing perhaps to check it from a different perspective rather than diving in with the routine checks.

“Thought you already did get lucky?” Light purred slyly. But Kira was tired, and there was not a whole lot of seduction left in that voice. He’d exhausted himself earlier—and now that the best of the entertainment was over, all he wanted to do was shut the lights and sleep.

“Is this gonna take much longer?” He muttered, making a show of exhaustion by yawning deeply and trying to focus on his book. He shifted his legs a bit under the blankets to get more comfortable—knees still steepled up as a prop for the rather large hardcover he’d been pouring through with waning interest.

“Who knows,” Mello returned, initiating a more thorough search of the room. “Go to sleep, I won’t make that much noise,” and the blonde spared him a brief glimpse, noting Light’s intent to keep his fading attention on the pages. Whether he thought anything of it or not could not be said but something had definitely gone off in the back of his mind which made him keep Kira within sight at all times.

“I need it to be at least slightly dark to sleep,” Kira muttered. “God knows I can live with L’s bloody laptop light half the time, but all the lamps in the room is something else altogether.”

His eyes were following Mello lazily.

“I’m more than slightly disturbed by how many times you and L have checked under this bed,” he mumbled, watching the blonde do just that. “I mean, most kids live in sort of a hollow fear of the monster under the bed or in the closet—L had that for real. You have your parents check every night, and no one ever finds anything; but how many times has L checked and found B there… it’s really quite unnerving when you examine it.”

Mello shot him a glance halfway through the discourse as if to remind Light that while L usually tended to find company beneath his bed, he was not the only one to have to check it for himself. Mello and Matt were just slightly luckier to find it clear every time.

“Get up for a second,” Mello said abruptly.

“Get up?” Light frowned, jangling the handcuff chain. “What do you think, our B-alike is inside the mattress or something? Way to go to be as creepy as possible.”

The blonde flashed him a smile and had it not been followed by the lifting of a handgun to motion Kira off the mattress, it could have been charming. “I’m quite tired myself,” Mello droned, “So do make my life easier just this once, hm?”

“Hmm,” Light muttered, eyebrow crooking at the loaded gun pointing in his direction. “Kinky.” Slowly he slid out from under the covers to stand beside the bed. “But if you continue aiming that thing at me, it’s going to be a cold day in hell before I ever suck you off again.”

“You’re far too talkative for someone who claims to be exhausted,” Mello countered, lifting a brow and tugging the comforter back to reveal the spread of slightly mussed sheets underneath. To do this the right way, he would have normally emptied the rounds into the bed, but there was certainly no need for so much. It was inspected, however, and call it paranoia but there was just something they were all missing and it was starting to truly bother him.

Light smirked ruefully. “I talk when I’m tired,” he mumbled, crossing his arms as he watched Mello inspect the mattress from the opposite side of the bed. Blankets were spilling all over the place, when Mello at last lifted the bed from the box spring to give a last look underneath. If anyone were inside, it would be that much heavier… he dropped the bed down with a thump, and Light crooked another eyebrow at the mess.

“Gee, thanks for that,” he grumbled, bending down to scoop the heap of blankets off the floor and pile them back on the mattress. “Are you quite finished?” And the neat freak in him started to attempt to straighten the bed out, before the short length of chain and his own exhaustion decided to forfeit the struggle, and Light crawled back into the heap of blankets without bothering to do much else.

“For now,” he said at last, frowning. “Can’t promise I won’t be back. Both nightstand lamps were left on, but Mello flicked off the overhead. “Get some sleep,” he told him before slipping out. Outside on the landing, he paused, glimpsing over his shoulder at the now closed bedroom door and tapped his ear to activate the devise. “Linda, did you happen to catch anything out of the norm in there?”

“I don’t think so,” Linda muttered over the com. “I’m still watching him, and he just seems to be going to sleep… trying to get comfortable with the handcuff chain…arranging the blankets a bit more…and going to sleep. He set his alarm for breakfast earlier as far as I could tell, otherwise, he’s been reading that book and glancing at the surveillance on the laptop every so often.”

“Bloody hell,” Mello muttered to no one in particular. What the hell was off about this whole thing? Other than the fact that they were being played for fools, of course. The other medical rooms were checked, with slightly less interest but equal attention and still he came out empty. He at last he spotted L and Matt at various spots in the hallway. A shake of his head was enough but his frown telling. “We’re missing something here,” Mello said quietly, knowing that L would be hearing everything over the headset so there was no need to shout it across the hall.

“I’m more than aware we’re missing something—and I fear it’s a lot bigger than someone in the house,” L muttered. The first either Matt or Mello had heard of such a thing.

“What do you mean?” Mello replied, getting closer to where the detective and the redhead were about to descend the stairs to the next level.

“I’m working on it,” L mumbled, shuffling down the curved staircase to the main floor. “There is a great deal of misdirection going on here, hiding a bigger purpose…”

Matt stopped. “You’re saying it’s Kira,” he said sharply.

“Not necessarily,” L replied. “But I do believe he knows more than he lets on…”

“L,” and Matt’s tone was chiding, chiding enough for the detective to crook him an unappreciative gaze.

“There is a 50% chance that it is Kira,” L said at last.

Mello was openly grimacing. He’d just been with Light—in more ways than one, he knew Kira’s threat had not been entirely neutralized, but he wanted to think the bastard had changed enough that he wasn’t going to be executing covert plans of mass destruction any time soon…that was giving Light too much credit though wasn’t it? Or not enough. Damnit.

“Matt, stay at the staircase and keep watch. Mello and I will work this floor, then we’ll hit the basement.”

* * *

It was hours before they’d covered the whole of the villa as thoroughly as they did. Even downstairs—the wine cellar, the rather high-tech incarceration unit L had not told anyone was there until now. Seemed he was ready for Kira one way or another, and was teetering of the verge of making use of the thing at least until he figured out what was really going on.

But their search turned up nothing. And L was beyond frustrated. He wasn’t the only one, Matt and Mello and from the sound of it, Linda on the line, were all frustrated and certain that they were missing something.

“Bollocks,” L muttered at last, turning to his protégés. “Get some rest—stay together, re-check the room and lock yourselves in. Keep the weapons handy…”

Mello and Matt were quite bleary-eyed, and L himself looked a bit more on the exhausted side than usual. They nodded despite themselves, and L rubbed a hand through his scruffy hair; his brain had been doing insurmountable amounts of math on the situation for hours, and every theory he came up with scared him more than the last. He couldn’t decide if this was something he could stop—or something he had to let play out and deal with in the aftermath; that seemed so very dangerous a proposition, but he’d done it countless times before…

He watched Matt and Mello move up the stairs, then got on the com: “Linda, I’m coming in,” he said flatly, waiting for her to unlock the door, his eyes endlessly scanning the now very-brightly lit halls. All the lights in the villa were on so lurking in the shadows would be that much more difficult.

Linda opened the door, looking very pale and tired.

“You should get some sleep,” L murmured. “I’ll take over.”

She frowned at that, because he looked so much more exhausted than she felt at that moment, and it had been a great battle to stay awake.

“No, I’d rather stay with you,” she muttered. “I don’t want to sleep alone.”

L blinked, but didn’t argue that point.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, their roles reversed. It had to be dawn, and Linda noted it was closing in on 6am when L had at last sapped himself completely. Seemed it was his habit to stay awake until he just couldn’t anymore, and his body rebelled.

It took a bit of convincing, but she at last got him to concede, and now as she resumed her place at the main hub, hot tea in hands—she had L curled up against her lap, dead asleep. She’d been hoping it would be in a bed, where she could lay in his arms against his warm skin for lazy hours on end—but that was fantasy, and this—well, this was L.

Nevertheless, Linda draped a blanket over him, and noticed how soundly he seemed to be sleeping with her there beside him…

* * *

It was sometime through the early morning when Mello jerked awake, finding the bed empty but still quite warm. "Did not mean to wake you," Matt called from across the room where he was getting dressed.

"You didn't..." the blonde muttered sleepily as the hazy effects of whatever dream had been swimming through his mind began to fade. He blinked to shake the feeling with little success and pushed himself up onto one elbow to look over the massive mound of pillows and check the time. Quarter past eight. They'd managed to get a full four hours of sleep. Bloody hell. He collapsed back onto the mattress, face first onto the pillow and cursed the entirety of the situation.

"Get a couple more hours of sleep," the redhead told him as he plucked his lighter and phone off the nightstand. "Linda paged me a little while ago, I suspect she's ready to fall on her arse." The poor girl was not used to this sort of thing. Still half wrapped beneath the covers, Mello simply nodded. No use in twisting his arm for a few more hours of rest. Matt mussed jagged blonde strands in parting and filed out.

Downstairs, he made a direct beeline for the kitchen, grabbing the necessary coffee and something more of the edible variety before dropping in on Linda who indeed looked just about ready to wear the bloody keyboards as forehead jewelry. She was beady eyed but managed to still remain somewhat attentive by the looks of it. "Hey," she greeted quietly with a half-hearted smile. The relief was evident, however. Beside her, L still slept and Matt lifted a brow at the sight.

"How long?"

"Goin' on two hours."

"Remarkable," he commented, somewhat impressed. "Anything of note happen last night?"

She shook her head, rising carefully out of her seat. "Not really. Light should be getting up soon, he's already snoozed his alarm twice," she commented and nodded to the screen dedicated to Kira's surveillance.

"Great," the redhead droned sarcastically.

"Hey," she said a bit more hesitantly. "You guys going to be all right...?"

Matt's features betrayed nothing as he simply took his seat, setting the mug down and logged himself in, pulling up various other images Linda recognized as the other case he was involved in. "Yeah. Don't worry about us. Get some rest."

* * *

The snooze went off for the third time and Light craned over to slap it, he didn’t move too much because it had been a damn uncomfortable night, and truth be told, he barely slept at all…but he made it look like he did. Wasn’t an easy task, but his unconscious was paper-thin at best. The uncomfortable weight against his legs had already rendered his left foot into a state of pins and needles, and the slightly foreign sensation of a small hand against his thigh reminded him just how close he’d come last night to being completely found out—but wasn’t—a miracle that spoke to his increasing ability as a bloody magician more than anything else.

Misdirection was his ultimate companion lately, and while Mello exchanged quips with him and wondered if “B” was hiding in the mattress, Misa slid out from under the covers as Light slowly moved from the bed while too convincingly pretending his attention was on the gun—she hid herself in the heap of blankets Light kept protectively concealed between his body and the box spring—all very casually of course.

Getting back on the bed was a bit more of an effort, as Light had to work to hide the strain in his face when he picked her up with the blankets to pile them back on top. Pretending it was too much work to remake the bed (where Misa had been balled up under his raised knees during L’s checks) he was able to keep her quite believably hidden in the mountain of blankets and against his own body from then till now. The girl was remarkably on his wavelength lately, moving with him, as stealth as she did, highly-tuned into his every furtive signal. It was possibly because she was utterly mad—but they were working so well in unison Light was set on rewarding her greatly once all was said and done—and she sensed it.

Beauty.

Today was going to be a good day. A very good day—poor L knew, but didn’t know, and wouldn’t know until it was too late. Light glanced at the clock… two hours… just two more hours and the first stage of his plan would go into effect…

* * *

L jolted awake at precisely 8 o’clock. That was most likely his hunger-alarm going off, but despite his absolute unconsciousness moments earlier, his brain picked right back up where it left off.

“Have Light’s breakfast brought to him, I’m not letting him off that chain until this whole thing plays out.”

It was a funny first-of-the-morning statement, and Matt glanced up just in time to see L notice how tangled with Linda he’d mysteriously become in the last two hours. The confusion slanted his features just a bit, before he managed to expertly extricate his person from her winding arms, and resume his crouch at the monitors: Light was making the bed, dressed in that casual designer down-wear, spinning his own laptop around to wave at L via surveillance, before settling back on the bed with his book that he’d been so intently reading.

L’s brow squirreled. “…What’s he reading?” Why hadn’t that occurred to him before? He’d glanced at the book earlier, but it was an old text, from the 30’s, the cover worn and the embossed title faded—it wasn’t on his priority list as Kira with old books didn’t seem as dangerous as Kira with laptops and television reports, but suddenly at that moment…

L zoomed the camera in, and tried to make out the title. Matt waited, his attention split between the detective’s odd ability to just pick up first thing, and the Morimoto case progressing on his screen. It was only recently he’d realized the primary field agent was a Wammy alum—J—made sense… a Wammy alum from the generation before him. Nevertheless, it was next the word out of L’s mouth that brought Matt’s focus entirely back to the situation at hand:

“Fuck.”

“What is it?” Matt muttered.

L pressed his temple, distorting the shape of his eyes. “It’s a 1931 book on the secrets of Houdini … Kira’s way ahead of us.”

"What!" Matt retorted, spinning around in his chair to look at the detective and then at the screens as if to confirm what had just been said. Un-bloody-fucking-real. He immediately keyed in the command to have Mello's laptop beep loudly at him. On camera he saw his lover glare furiously at the offending piece of equipment and clamber out of bed to look at the damned thing. "I lied. Get up. We have a situation."

By the time Mello made it downstairs several minutes later, the kitchen staff had already been put to work. The coffee table was covered in various assortments of sugary substances that would make most people hurl this early in the morning, but kept L ticking at all hours. Coffee was ready—bless them—because it was the first Mello he grabbed for. "What's happened?" he demanded tipping sugar into the mug. On the surveillance monitors, Light was getting his own breakfast delivered to him.

“Whatever is going on, Light is behind it,” L said, tumbling sweets down his throat like he was a hatchback. “I don’t know how long he’s been planning whatever it is—but he’s put it into motion—everything has been misdirection.”

“The fucker’s been reading books on Houdini,” Matt muttered, and Mello’s eyes went screwy. If any normal person were reading books on Houdini, it might be laughable to worry—but Kira was another story. If he were absorbing the secrets of the greatest magician to ever live, well, that was cause for alarm.

“The assumption at this moment,” L said with resounding determination, and more than mounting urgency, “is that ‘B’ is working with Kira, and the two of them together have been carrying out a plan all of their own. What eludes me is the plan itself. Light has had so many opportunities to escape, or to harm each and every one of us, I’m hesitant to say that is his intention. He does however, have an intention, and knowing him, it’s on a fairly grand scale—which is why he’s been using this whole ‘B’ thing as his cover. Misdirection—have the lot of us chasing his phantom, while he pulls the trick right there under our noses.”

L paused only to scarf the next gooey cinnamon roll. He was rushing his food, as if to get to business as quickly as possible. In the meantime, both Linda and Dr. Gregory had yet to touch a stitch of food, and Matt was standing against the wall working on his third cup of coffee. “I have two choices right now,” L said, “Because my instincts tell me the clock is ticking rather rapidly. The first is to let it play out and see what happens,” Matt was shaking his head rather vehemently at that idea. “I don’t like that plan, and neither does anyone else—,” L muttered, lapping up the icing from long fingers.

“The second is to return to my prior methods where Kira is concerned—incarcerate and torture it out of him.”

Linda’s mouth dropped. “Torture?”

L blinked at her. “He brought it on himself.”

* * *

8:59 am.

Light flipped open the laptop—on the one screen, L was having his predicted panic-meeting, which was fine. If all went according to plan, Light had absolutely nothing to worry about; let the detective think his last-minute maneuver was enough to stop what was already in play. No, this one belonged solely to Kira, and the smirk slid Light’s mouth ever so visibly as he keyed through the access codes he’d hacked earlier to bring up the SPK screens. …5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1 … this was going to be beautiful.

The first down was MacEnroe, he stopped where he was seated in front of Near’s wall of monitors, and turned to get up, almost casually at first—Light knew better—watching as the man walked over to the nearest laptop. Halle and Gevanni perked up at the oddity, but Near himself, surrounded by his city of legos only listened aside, finger twirling a piece of hair—until MacEnroe started smashing the computer to bits against the desk, the floor, the wall. All bets were off then, and panic erupted—especially when he took the most jagged piece of the machine—one he tore out at explicit Death Note orders, and began to saw through his own throat.

Near’s expression was priceless—got even better when Halle ran to him to try and smuggle him away, but Gevanni—bless him, was already upon his fate—his first demanded action was to sabotage the locks so Near couldn’t get away. No—the little bastard was going to watch this one in person; he had to, Light had already surmised Gevanni was his most beloved of the agents. The rest was completely inspired by Beyond Birthday and what he’d attempted to do to Backyard Bottomslash. Beyond had only gone for one limb—beating it mercilessly to see if the woman would die of internal hemorrhaging that way, didn’t work; but was enough to spark this particular manner of death in Kira’s mind.

So as if possessed by some rabid form of mental disease, Gevanni proceeded to beat himself—throwing himself into walls and monitors and every other surface with as much force and momentum as he could muster, breaking his own face, his own hands, cracking his own skull as he drove it over and over into a wall. It was by no means an easy way to go; in fact, Light was really curious to see how long it would take before he did enough damage to actually take himself out—and the blood was just everywhere, all over Near and Lidner, mixed with MacEnroe’s spreading pool of jugular-emptied arterial blood.

Halle was almost admirably shielding Near from the horrific sight—her face a perfect mask of terror and misery to watch her comrade die in such a way. She was quite feasibly frozen with the notion that she was next—but it was lost on neither of them why this was happening at all.

“It’s Kira,” Near muttered, sounding almost shocked by the grisly display—Gevanni still flinging himself around the room, all too conscious of the pain and how not in control he was of his own body. He knew as well. Good.

What Near said next had Light fighting to contain himself.

“Halle, shoot him.”

Mercy killing. It was too perfect.

And with a shaky, horrified hand, Lidner raised her gun—and put Gevanni out of his misery.

It was about that moment on the other screen that Matt dropped his cup of coffee in the dining room—and Light beamed, turning his attention from one screen to the other.

“That’s my cue,” he purred, and Misa popped up from under the bed, handing him a hairpin with which to pick the handcuffs off….

“I did good Raito?” Misa grinned, her wild face and scruffy black hair peering over the bed, as Light rather expertly defeated the locking mechanism.

“Very good, my love,” Light grinned, sliding his now-free hand over her cheek. “Stick to the plan, and this will go very smoothly.”

* * *

Matt had been keeping one eye on the laptop at all times, even as L rattled off their options. He had his eyes trained solely on Kira, who was watching his own laptop—presumably their meeting, at the same time. So he knew what was being said—that was fine, it was too late since L had all but decided to put him in solitary anyway. Matt was feeling ever so vaguely vindicated until it began to occur to him that Light’s attention was too focused, and suddenly, too victorious to actually be viewing them.
“Fuck, what’s he doing?” Matt grumbled, trying to maneuver his vantage point through the other cameras in the room, but the bastard had found a blindspot, and try as he might, Matt couldn’t load Kira’s screen through the surveillance—so he tried to hack it; realizing that the laptop was cloaked, and had been tapped into venues not necessarily intended for Kira’s eyes.

“Goddamnit,” Matt hissed, now on a mission to crack Kira’s own coding—he’d hid himself well, and god knows how long he’d been doing it for—didn’t matter, Kira may have been a decent hacker when it came to things, but Matt was going to tear him down.

All eyes in the dining room had already snapped to attention, and L was out of his seat, hanging over Matt’s shoulder as Matt keyed through screen after screen, and even though it was now obvious they were racing against Kira to some unknown end; it was L’s rather disconcerting observation of Kira’s mundane setup in the bedroom that froze almost everyone.

“He hasn’t touched his coffee.”

It took too long for any weightier meaning to develop off that statement—until Matt dropped his mug—he’d only raised it for that quick fix as he darted through access windows; but he dropped it then and there—about the same time L seemed rather suddenly unsteady on his feet.

It was Mello who had to suddenly rush to catch whichever one of them hit the floor first—and for some reason, he thought of that figure crouched in the pantry last night, as L’s weight crumpled into him, and he just barely kept Matt’s head from smacking the tile—and at that moment, his own head began to spin rather uncontrollably…

The room blurred in a whir of colors, and Mello was just barely conscious as Light’s tall figure appeared in the dining room doorway, looking rather pleased, and giving a quaint little wave to him as the world just shut down black…

Linda was up all at once even as Light slid casually into the room. Her eyes wide, mouth parted in a silent ‘O’ because she did not know where to even start. It was after that initial shocked hesitation that she gasped, “What have you done?!” and darted to where her peers had crumbled to the floor, clearly knocked out without a chance of waking anytime soon. Linda herself had been nursing her tea all morning and had yet to touch the coffee—a damned good thing in retrospect, but who would have thought Light to have drugged it? She ran through a series of possibilities—when it could have happened, how, for what reason?!—but nothing made sense, nothing was adding up.

And perhaps that was because her mind was stricken by horror and fear—that indeed Light was working with whomever had infiltrated their villa. “B” or not, there was someone there, someone he’d kept out of sight through the entirety of the night, apparently enough as not a hint of a stowaway had been found. My god, what was happening here?! Panic gripped her with a cold iron fist because just then at that moment, those smooth smiles and niceties meant very little. Just then Kira was the enemy and she was defenseless against him. As a desperate after thought, Linda felt for the handgun she knew Mello had on him at all times and freed it, palming it firmly in both hands as she knelt there beside them…

“Ah,” Light smiled, eyeing the gun and the shaky way Linda was suddenly pointing it at him. Dr. Gregory had risen from his seat, but like the girl, was entirely unsure of how to go against Kira now that the power seemed to be back in his court. “And what do you think you’re going to do with that?” Light purred. “Shoot me? I have this uncanny nature of recovering from such things…” His eyebrow quirked haughtily. “Besides, I thought we were getting along?” The cynicism was positively dripping from his sugary tone.

“I’m gonna put you in that cell,” Linda managed, trying to be strong, still utterly beside herself that the three men she had the most faith in were all completely unconscious beside her.

“Yagami, think about this,” Dr. Gregory was warning. “You’ve progressed so far—life here hasn’t been bad to you, L hasn’t—”

A cool smile from Kira halted the doctor’s words. “You both are completely misinterpreting this,” he said casually, waving a hand in the air. Almost idly he picked up Mello’s coffee and swirled it around. “But you should probably know that B,” and he emphasized the letter, “Is watching right now. And B—has The Eyes. What B also has—is a Death Note… so you see your dilemma. Anything happens to me at this moment, neither of you make it past the next 40 seconds. Honestly, it’s not my preference—I like you both, and I really have no intentions of harming you at all—but B is a bit unstable, and doesn’t always act…rationally.”

Dr. Gregory’s face tightened and Linda’s heart was hammering madly in her chest, but she had yet to move the gun.

“Doctor,” Light said cordially, “If you’d be so kind as to have a seat and finish your coffee, it will make things much easier on everyone.”

Dr. Gregory seemed to have no choice in the matter, sinking slowly back to his seat, hands wrapped tentatively around the coffee mug; his eyes trained fearfully to the dark beverage...

Light turned then to Linda, “Sweetheart,” he said brazenly, “Put the gun down.”

Linda felt the sting of tears in her eyes but refused to let them fall, breathing rapidly through her nose but controlling the panic that threatened to eat her alive. She wasn’t trained for this! But nevertheless she shook her head vehemently. “What have you done?” she repeated, sounding a bit more choked and cursed her traitorous voice. “Why are you doing this??”

“What I’ve done, is knock them out. Both the household supply of coffee…and sugar…have been tainted. B was kind enough to pilfer Dr. Gregory’s sleep-aid supply. Regrettably I had to use a fairly drastic amount because no one would be taking the dose in full one way or another—so whereas Matt is gonna be out for awhile, having gluttonously chugged three cups in less than an hour, Mello will probably be awake inside of an hour or two, and L—well, it’s anyone’s guess he has the metabolism of a hamster.” Light smiled charmingly. “Why I’m doing it should be obvious for several reasons—but you’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out if you’ve been paying attention.”

“Now put the gun down before someone gets hurt.”

Linda was still holding out on obeying that particular order, letting go of the gun seemed like an incredibly stupid idea.

“Linda, honey,” Light continued, now crouching down to get eye-level with her, regardless of the weapon she had flailing in his face. “Please keep in mind, we’re on lockdown, and even if you shoot me, you’ve got B to worry about. B doesn’t like you for a variety of reasons I’m not going to go into, but the only thing keeping you from a rather brutal death is the mere fact that I’ve told him to leave you alone. In essence, I am your protector, so it would behoove you not to jeopardize our relationship by waving that gun in my face.”

Linda gaped at him, in fact, she gaped at him with such shock, Light was able to suddenly knock her hands away. The weight of the gun was treacherous and it skidded to the floor. Linda dove for it, but Kira tackled her, dragging her back rather easily, long enough to kick the gun out of reach. Doctor Gregory was up at that moment, trying to pull Light away from Linda, but the man was not prepared for Kira head-on, and Light whirled around and decked him hard, knocking him out in a whole different fashion.

Linda screamed, fumbling for the gun, and just as she had it in her fingers, Light literally hauled her off the floor and flung her into a nearby chair. She collided hard with the upholstery and he breathed with a deepening frustration, seizing the weapon with his good hand, while shaking the pain out of the hand that had just so violently connected with the doctor’s face. “Damnit,” he muttered. “Don’t make this harder on yourself.”

Linda stared up at him tearfully, even though her eyes kept darting to the heap of Matt and Mello and L, none of them had moved and she kept praying that one of them would. She’d feared Light on two prior occasions, but this time, it was just him and her and she was positively trembling.

Light emptied the gun of bullets and shoved them into his pocket. He then made sure to strip the other weapons from his collapsed adversaries and do the same. “You obviously don’t want to understand that you really have nothing to do with this,” he said, “You’re just in my way. A couple of years ago I would have written down your name and cleared the board rather easily, but like I said, I’m not going to do that—I have no intention of hurting you, Linda.”

He put the weapon down and approached her as she scrunched up against the unyielding chair. Her eyes widened as he held out his hand in invitation of helping her to her feet. When she didn’t take it, he snatched her wrist and yanked her up, shoving her around and marching her into the hall. “There are a few more things I have to do,” he grumbled, “So you’re going in here,” he pushed her into the study, and with a firm grip on her shoulder, shoved her down into the seat and proceeded to handcuff her wrists to either arm of the chair. The he spun the laptop to face her, full surveillance view of the house.

“Here,” he said. “Watch a master at work.” And he chuckled then, and left the room.

She squirmed in her chair, crying and sobbing, realizing when she saw some of the staff in their rooms, that Light—or B—had locked them in, so no one was coming to the rescue. Light in the meantime, rather quickly dragged the lifeless forms of Mello, Matt and L into separate rooms, securing them all in a similar fashion—albeit with much more care than he had her, to ensure they weren’t going anywhere.

Matt he kept in the bathroom, on the floor, handcuffed to the toilet—most likely because it was damn uncomfortable and he was doing it out of spite. Mello he put in a chair, like Linda, in the other study, taking extra caution to secure the chair itself to the heaviest oak furniture in the room. L—L he took upstairs, into the barred master bedroom, where he secured his wrists together and attached them to the bed frame. He secured his ankles as well, and strapped them to the opposite side so L was completely bound—and that choice seemed terribly deliberate in every psychological way Linda could chalk it up.

When he was finished, Light came back downstairs, into the study, and began rather expertly, to hack through the main hub…

It took several minutes, but Linda had gotten herself under control by the time he came back, only to start panicking all over again as she watched him intent at the main hub. Her breath hitched in her throat shakily, near hyperventilation because the situation seemed so very desperate just then.

"Light-..." she called out but all that resulted was a rather pitiful whimper which would be mortifying in hindsight. It did not matter just then. "Don't do this..." She pleaded, squirming in her chair and cutting her wrists into the bindings that secured her all too firmly. "You'll only make it worse on yourself, please-!" But he was not listening, or if he was then she had become far too easy to ignore, which made it even worse. She watched the screen through misted eyes, holding in the panic stricken sobs that threatened to well up a second time. There was no way out of this.

They'd been wrong. They'd been so very wrong and careless!

“Linda, dear,” Kira purred without taking his eye off the hub, fingers quick on the keyboard. He seemed to be making an extra effort to use all the endearing pet names he could muster—either to calm her and enforce the memory of their somewhat friendly rapport, or as a slick little cynicism he just couldn’t help regarding his captors and how he viewed the way they treated him—both humanely and inhumanely (by sheer virtue of limiting his freedom at all)—such was the warped mind of Kira. “How can you beg me not to do something when you have no idea what it is I’m actually doing?”

“I know whatever you’re doing is going against L,” Linda breathed, her voice an octave higher than normal. “He’s been easy on you, Light, but if you betray him like this he’s not going to be easy anymore—you’ll never have his trust again like you had it here.”

Light’s eyes flickered up a moment, as though that may or may not have been a topic he wrestled with. “Linda,” he said at last. “Sometimes, if you want to get something done—you just have to do it yourself.”

At that Linda heard the study door creak open behind her—it didn’t strike her at first, until she caught a glimpse of the room on the screen and saw that hunched little figure slipping in from the hall—matted mess of spiky black hair, white shirt, blue jeans, small bare feet—he both did and did not move like L, too skinny, too small, like a deformed version of the detective; and Linda froze. She froze in sheer terror because she had so completely immersed herself in B’s case, that her brain could not justify this creature being anything but the resurrected psycho.

Light watched her tense, and a smoothness melted over him like butter. He got up then.

“B,” he purred, “Keep Linda company for a bit—I have something I have to do upstairs.”

Linda nearly squeaked with apprehension as Light drifted passed to exit the room—and despite the imminent danger Kira himself posed, at that moment, Linda would rather be in the same room with him than with B—and if she was to be in the room with B at all, she didn’t want to be there alone.

“Remember what we talked about,” Light said in passing. “Don’t hurt her.”

There was a quiet, deranged little chuckle in response, and Linda’s mind broke there. “Light!” she cried. “Wait! Please! Don’t leave me here!!” she started calling, but Kira was in the hallway, and heading upstairs.

Linda stiffened, toes curling, body knotted as she felt the presence shift behind her, saw the shadow flicker on the floor—and by god watched that little mongoloid creature hunch on the screen, swaying, deciding to come up close.

Linda was trying her best to stifle the whimpering, tears leaking uncontrollably from her eyes as the fear just washed over her in waves; crawling up the hairs along the back of her neck as B’s breath broke suddenly hot against her skin from behind. Then without warning—that noise—that horrible sucking, airless noise right there against her ear…

And Linda started screaming.

* * *

Misa was obviously enjoying scaring the girl way too much—but Light figured she would. Like with Takada, any female even remotely in the same airspace as her ‘Raito’ she wanted to suffer her wrath—but also like with Takada, she was forbidden by Kira to do anything drastic that would interfere with the plan. And what a plan—for the moment, going so smooth it was scarcely easy to comprehend, as Light took a seat behind L’s favored row of laptops.

There was no getting out of the villa, and likewise out of Sicily unless Kira once again assumed the role of L. There were several things he needed to do in order to accomplish this—first and foremost would be to crack the security code on the villa to alleviate the lockdown. Then using L’s infinite array of outside resources, hook himself up with a mode of leaving the island and getting to his set destination. That was fine, Light had more experience posing as the detective than anyone else—even Mello—L’s chosen heir. He’d developed his own connections while having served as L only months prior during the original Kira case—so it was more than slightly second nature to him. He’d use those connections, and use L’s own in the interim to create a myriad of dead end diversions and buy himself the time to go deep under the radar.

L would undoubtedly catch up with him sooner or later—Light had no illusions about that—it was what he had to accomplish before that which would determine his forth going relationship with the detective and his brood from here on in. For now, however, it was refreshing to have an opportunity to remind them all just how powerful Kira truly was—and still could be. He smiled inwardly, downloading a mass of files from L’s hub into his own laptop, which he’d already completely severed from L and Matt’s connections. Matt would most likely bust his arse trying to crack back into it; which was why Light would need a replacement, ASAP to bury himself even deeper. Until then, this would have to do.

On the screen, Linda was still crying and whimpering as Misa teased her without ever revealing herself—and at the same time, there was stirring in one other room of the house. Light’s gaze snagged on Mello, starting to shake off the drug—he truly hadn’t ingested enough of it; but that was fine, Light wasn’t leaving without issuing them all a back-up dose anyway. For now, let the blonde come to a bit and realize what had happened… let him see who had the power now…

* * *

The world was coming back into focus albeit far too slowly. The infuriating hazy sensation still clung to his vision and his mind, making it a bit more difficult to figure out just what the hell had happened. Blinking heavily, Mello at last looked up, finding himself in his study. The first reaction was that of puzzled confusion, the second of outrage when at last he realized that his wrists were very much bound to the armrests of the chair he'd been secured to, which in turn was not going anywhere—he'd tested it immediately—he scowled furiously, not taking too kindly to the restraints.

Betrayal then, was it? How wrong they had been. It was the anger that set in before the hurt—that would come along sometime later, but right now his intent was practically murderous as Mello looked up at the cameras he knew were there. But what guarantee was there that Light had not already exited the building - no, the lockdown was still in place. Unless... and he paled with the notion that the bastard would lock them in after making his escape.

They'd been careless. The responsibility was all theirs and that made the circumstances all the more infuriating. How could they have been so bloody careless? So bloody blind to the apparent truth that had been spelled out for them since the very beginning?! "Fuck!" Mello shouted his frustrations with a growl jerking at the restraints, proving futile which left him sitting there panting through gritted teeth.

“Tch tch,” and Light’s melodic voice preceded him just on the heels of Mello’s swearing. “calm down, beloved,” he purred—in Japanese, reverting back to his native language as further display of power. “I imagine you’re rather upset,” –bastard—, he could see the fury in Mello’s eyes, “But just look at this as a reminder that you all forgot who you were playing with.”

The ego was back, resoundingly in place, and Mello was too angry just then to truly mete out the details of when and how Light had cracked and polished this plan. How much had been fake over this last month? All of it? Some of it? Had L been right way back when he and Mello had had their long discussion in the study—that Light’s rollercoaster of angst and emotion had all been an act to garner sympathy and gain their trust and adoration? If it had, then Kira was a colder, more vicious bastard than anyone—perhaps save Matt—had ever given him credit for. And on that note, by god, did Mello ever feel like he’d betrayed his long time lover for this insufferable fuck standing before him now.

Light read that sentiment in his eyes, but his reaction to it was vaguely imperceptible. He hadn’t changed clothes from the jeans and button down he’d been wearing earlier—he had however, re-adopted his impeccable posture once again. His shoulders had been slumping a bit as of late, the more buried under fettered domesticity he became. It was a convincing ploy coupled with all his other convincing ploys—and Mello desperately needed to shut out the rest, the passion, the bonding,—he’d been a fool, a goddamned fool.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Light?!?” He seethed, green-gaze narrowed razor-thin.

Kira looked despicably smug. “Winning,” he replied. Then he laughed. “That would be the suitable answer,” he added, waiving off the remark as if it’d been a joke. “What I’m really doing is getting things done while the rest of you mince around, having a yank, wondering how best to humiliate me next. Which reminds me,” he said, that mad little smirk on his lips, “You have a voice mail.”

He flipped Mello’s cell phone open and held it brazenly against the blonde’s ear so that he could hear the definitively panicked voice of Halle Lidner over the recording. “Mello, oh god—I’m so scared—Kira killed them, he killed them so horribly—Gevanni, John, the others—I think I’m going to be next, Mello. I think he’s toying with me. Please, please stop him—oh god—I don’t want to die like that.”

Light snapped the phone shut and smiled vindictively. “You have no idea how good that makes me feel,” he laughed. “But don’t worry… I left Near for you. Like I told you before—he’s your kill, and I still respect that. The others—well, after Rome, even you have to admit they had that coming. Surveillance caught it of course, when you get out of this, I’d recommend the viewing—popcorn is optional.”

And was it ever obvious that Kira was riding the high of victory just then…

Mello braced himself against the chair, holding tightly onto the armrests he was bound to and swung the only way he could at that moment. His boot just grazed Light's abdomen and the expensive button down that covered it. He would have preferred to do much more than that, but seeing as Kira had taken the necessary precautions to make sure he would not get free anytime soon, Mello was left with little other option other than scowl furiously at him. "You're sealing your own fate with this," he spat back at him. There was no mistaking that things would be quite different once they were out of their bonds and on his tail yet again.

Just like the good old days, was it?

“Hmm, so I’ve been told,” Light simpered, brushing the shoe scuff off his shirt. “But you haven’t seen the bigger picture yet—so you’re allowed your little tantrum. Judge me when the act is complete,” and Kira’s amber eyes flickered up, the playfulness gone for just that moment. “Judge me before the eyes of god,” he lingered on that—something that would come back to visit Mello later when it made more sense, but just then it sounded like another baiting remark.

Mello wrestled with his bonds again unsuccessfully. “You’d better pray you’re in another country before I get out of this!” He snarled. “I’m going to fucking kill you slow! I’m going to personally introduce you to that fate you’re so terrified of—L’s execution methods have nothing on mine!”

Light’s expression went somewhat grim, and boldly he crouched down beside Mello, but well enough out of the range of his feet.

“Listen to me, Mello,” he said, his voice low and smooth and sober of the victory he’d been so euphoric on just moments ago. “I have no illusions about what the rest of you are thinking right now—nor do I have any illusions about how things work,” he was being particularly vague so as not to give away his immediate plan, but there was a gravity about his excuse nonetheless. “When all is said and done—it will be for the better—but only I can do it; do you understand? Only me.”

He straightened with the sort of regal presence that had been absent from Kira in recent history. “You and L can make up your minds when it’s finished,” he said; “But for now, I need you quite conclusively—out of my way.”

“Goddamnit, Light!” Mello hissed, using the human name rather than the divine one—hoping maybe, however unconscious, to bring the man that was his lover, that he’d begun to care for, to see just how much damage he was doing to himself.

Kira’s countenance was hardened, but his eyes were just a little sad, just for a moment. “It’s about sacrifice, isn’t it?” he said thoughtfully, and the words gave Mello pause.

The blonde’s expression twisted characteristically. What? What sacrifice? His or theirs? “What are you doing?” he said at last, and it was meant in an entirely different context now—the sense that Light’s grand plan was something no one truly wanted to think about if it was being worded in such a vague and lofty vein… oh Christ, what was he up to?

“What needs to be done,” Light replied cryptically, his tone level, and yet hauntingly grave. He stood there, gazing grimly down at his bound lover—tall statuesque figure seeming ever taller at Mello’s angle, before Kira swept down and kissed him quick and poignantly on the lips.

“I hope you can forgive me eventually,” he said in Mello’s ear, his breath hot, sending shivers up and down Mello’s spine. “But for now—this is goodbye.”

The gesture coupled with the somber parting words left Mello uncharacteristically silent as Light walk away at last. It was just as the door was being pulled shut that he came back to himself and shouted out his lover’s name in vain.

Perhaps it was a tantrum he threw, hissing and cursing his luck and predicament as he fought against the impossible binds that held him. The bastard had not taken any chances. But what was it he had meant… what sacrifice was this, what goal had he set for himself that called for such desperate measures? And had Kira – God help Mello for looking too deeply again – looked ever slightly sad beneath that glorious glow of victory and utter triumph? Was Mello truly just reading too deeply into it again despite his utter or was there something more??… Goddamnit!

* * *

Linda was beside herself. Her screams had quieted and she sat there, pressed tightly against the chair with her eyes firmly closed as if that alone would save her from the threat that surrounded her, that breathed down her neck and made her skin crawl in the most unimaginable way possible. The thoughts would not go away – the horror of what she had read, of what had been told. She remained in one piece. Miraculously so. But then again, Light had promised her, hadn’t he? He had told her that she was not going to be harmed and yet she could not dismiss the volatile fear of that foreign presence circling her—like a hungry shark. Her hands shook against the armrests, her chest heaving with small whimpers. Even if she was protected, the possibility that she might just die of fright here and now had not been outright dismissed.

And so when B’s creeping touch brushed her shoulder, Linda screamed again.

She screamed and shook her head, tears streaming down her face something fierce. There was only one thing that hushed her at that moment, and that was the sudden movement she saw on the surveillance screen in front of her… L’s movement….

Her screams cut off in a sharp gasp, her gaze zooming to the detective, who’d gone from shifting slightly in his binds, to moving fully coherent. His movement did not go unnoticed however, as Linda realized she was not the only one who saw him wake.

Light’s attention drew to his own screen, where he sat in front of L’s monitors—he saw too, and abruptly got up, crossing the hallway on route to the master bedroom. Linda started screaming then, entirely different from how she was screaming before—there was something about Kira’s movements, something about the purpose in his gait that made her fear for L—made her believe that Light was going to do something terrible…