Redeemer

Mello heard her from across the hall—and it was her screams that only added to the anxiety of the situation, because he had no idea what was going on, no idea what it was terrorizing her so badly; though he could guess. Linda was terrified—this was not what she was used to dealing with, she’d never been trained for a situation like this and she was reacting badly. Then again, with the sheer terror in her stricken tone, Mello began to fear there was something more at work than just terror—he began to wonder if Light was… no—that wasn’t his style; but goddamnit, what then? His brain was scrolling through the options, simultaneously worrying about where Matt was at that moment. If anyone had cause to worry about Kira, it was the redhead, the one who’d never bought into his act… no, no Light wouldn’t… shit, Mello was still giving the bastard too much credit on both counts.

It wasn’t until Linda’s tone abruptly changed that Mello tried to rip himself free of his bonds with a more violent aggression:

“NO!! No!! Don’t!! Leave him alone!!”

The chair would not budge as it had been affixed to the leg of the heavy oak desk. Even as he firmly planted his feet to the side of the furniture to attempt to pry himself away from it the only thing Mello managed was to balance precariously on the chair’s back legs. A cursing fit and quick footwork later, he stopped himself from tumbling but was no closer to escape. Even the laptop could not help him now as it had been pressed shut the previous night. Brows furrowed… it wasn’t so far away.

Mello brought one knee up and with the little moment allowed, tugged up one pant leg and held it in place to pull the laces of his boot undone with his teeth. It was kicked off moments later and again with a move that bordered on fucking gymnastics, reached up to snap the screen open and turn the laptop toward himself. The test would be whether or not he’d manage to navigate through the proper windows to gain access to the rest of the villa—with just his toe.

Somewhere down the hall Linda was shouting incoherently, but it did not seem like anyone was actually being hurt. The girl was panicking – for herself and someone else. L or Matt more than likely. The poor thing never realized just what she was getting herself into when she accepted L’s summon to join them here. But then again, neither had they. The rules had changed far too many times to even keep track of anymore. Bloody hell, Mello kept hitting the wrong key!

* * *

Linda’s eyes widened to see Light enter the room on screen, and why did she have such a terrible feeling? She didn’t know. Somewhere deep inside she tried to remind herself that Light wouldn’t—couldn’t—harm L, he loved him, good or bad, better or worse, Kira and L were yin and yang, and one simply could not exist without the other…but those thoughts weren’t helping much as she watched the scene play out…

Apparently L was quick from unconsciousness to action, she couldn’t see what he was doing—something to the handcuffs—but Light was at him in an instant the moment he crossed the threshold, clamping down on L’s wrists, his other hand shooting somewhere to L’s body—somewhere that hurt because L suddenly writhed instinctively away from the touch, and Light was wrestling him to the mattress despite his restraints…

* * *

He’d had a feeling—no, he knew for a fact—if there was one thing L could do, it was slip handcuffs. He’d done it when they’d shared a chain, and Light had seen him do it. It was some oddity of his joints—double jointed thumbs—L could pop them out at will and then wriggle too-skinny wrists out of metal cuffs. It usually involved some scraping and pain, but he could do it almost like magic, and that was the first thing he aimed to do the minute it dawned on him what sort of predicament he was in.

Light had to clamp down on him, hand shooting to that sensitive area along his ribs Light knew as his lover always got the most effect—instead he jabbed a nail into L’s side and twisted, effectively getting him to stop attempting to escape and instead concentrate on getting away from the pain—it was a rather relentless tactic, as Light leaned his full weigh into the maneuver, until L stiffened, his breathing shallow, his body tense.

“Don’t fight me,” Light whispered against his ear, and L’s gaze shot to him, dark eyes hard, concealing any evidence of what he was feeling—truly feeling at that moment.

“When have I ever submitted to you?” L said, his voice low and angry.

“When I forced you to,” Light replied; and there was a lot more gravity to that statement than either of them wanted to hear—but Light’s finger was still painfully dug in beneath L’s rib, his knee pushing hard into his leg, pinning him every way he could because he knew if there was one person who could escape their bonds with ease—it was L. That’s why Light had been watching, why he’d been waiting to see when the drugs would streamline through that abnormal metabolism L miraculously possessed; because the moment those dark eyes opened—he’d try something like he was trying now.

That’s why Light had prepared something extra for the occasion… ironically, however, crushed to L as he was—he couldn’t help but press his face to L’s temple, to breath in that sweet scent he knew he would miss. L didn’t ask—he didn’t say ‘don’t do this’—that went unspoken. He was as broken and disappointed as he ever was, he just didn’t let one iota of it slip—didn’t let Kira see his heart was shattering, because the anger was going to win over, the anger would pull him through.

“You think I’m betraying you,” Light said quietly against L’s hair.
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” L returned. “You’re going to do what you want regardless—that has always ever been your greatest flaw.”

“You’re not surprised,” Light muttered—it wasn’t a question, it was an observation.

“No,” L replied grimly, his breath still shallow. “I can hope at every turn you’ll make the right decision, Light—and at every turn, I find myself gravely disappointed.”

Light frowned, he frowned deeply. “Don’t test me, L,” he said.

L’s gaze shifted to him, defiant. “Do your worst, Kira,” he growled, “Make me your victim if that’s what will please you—fight me, scare me, hurt me, whatever it is you need to infuse your paranoia with that false sense of confidence you’ve been craving all these months. Rain your bloody god-complex upon me—that extraordinary ego you hide behind because you are a coward who cannot accept reality—you were defeated in the warehouse, and this is just a pathetic attempt to prolong the illusion that you still have a chance at your ambition.”

Light’s brow was furrowing the more L spoke, and what may have been some bittersweet jag of remorse prior to that was quickly turning into a shade of unbridled anger the more the detective shoved at Kira’s buttons…

“It would serve you best to dispatch me straight at this moment,” L growled, in a tone none of them, save Light, had truly ever heard from him before—a tone devoid of all the gimmicks he used to normally hide what was at work inside that brilliant mind of his… “Because if you don’t,” he snarled, “then I swear to a God much higher than you that I will tear you down and have you for breakfast the first bloody chance I get.”

To say Kira was angry, was putting it mildly…

* * *

"Linda, calm down," Mello's stern voice reached her from the laptop that had become her link to the villa and a distraction from the nightmarish presence stubbornly at her back. The girl snapped to attention with a whimper, the words dying upon her lips because even though she could only catch part of what was being said in the master bedroom, her heart was thundering in her chest, the knot lodged firmly in her throat.

The screen came to life and with some added patience, Mello had managed to drag the laptop closer and bring up the necessary windows to connect to her because hysterics were not going to get them out of this particular situation. His eyes had narrowed on the small figure behind her. Misa was smart enough to keep her face out of sight, creeping behind the high backed chair just enough so that her hair peeked out, as did those small hands that held onto the wooden structure, brushing Linda's shoulders and drawing another near-hysterical cry. It was effective.

"Linda!" Mello shouted and she bit her lip to silence herself but the tears would not stop. She could not muster the strength to keep them at bay. Could not muster the courage to think positively when they were all bound in such a manner and that unfamiliar - but oh so familiar - figure hissed into her ear.

"You're not going to get hurt," Mello said with a steady tone that impressed even himself. The girl shook her head but said nothing, curling up as best she could in her seat. If it had been him in her stead, that bloody impersonator - because he refused to think B had brought himself back from the grave to work with Kira of all people - would not have had such easy a time or a thrill. Mello scowled. "Linda I need you to calm down. Whoever that is, it isn't B... I know you're more rational than this, please. We'll get out of this, just calm down..."

“Mello, help me,” the girl whimpered.

“I’m trying,” the blonde retorted, “You just have to do me a favor and calm down…”

He saw her shuddering to make and effort, squeezing tight as those small unnerving hands danced along her arms—if either Light or ‘B’ had wanted Linda injured, they could have done it by now. Linda was of no consequence to Kira, which meant B was most likely entertaining ‘himself’ of his own accord. God help him if Mello got out of his bonds, he’d wring that scrawny little psychotic neck.

“Mello,” Linda whimpered again, and the blonde’s mind was racing—he had the laptop up, there had to be something… using his toe he clacked through various screens, trying to find Matt, instead finding the master bedroom, and the rather disturbing way Light had L pinned to the bed…

* * *

It took Kira a moment to rein in the initial bout of rage L’s words provoked. “You think it’s that easy to unhinge me?” he purred, leaning in closer, his breath trailing along that elegant, tapering column of L’s exposed throat. He smiled to see the skin rise in response.

“You’ve been unhinged for years,” L replied, conscious of the way Light’s offending hand flattened along his bare flank, thumb stroking the blotching bruise he’d just caused under the cotton shirt which was already hitched up due to the struggle.

“I’m not stupid, L,” Light breathed against the whorl of the detective’s ear, “You and I both know this moment is not destroying us—it’s reviving us—you’ve been bored, I’ve been disappointing, it’s time to reinvigorate the chase.”

Kira’s grin spread wickedly along his lips; his long bangs hiding the cool calculation of his eyes…hiding the fact that they were inking over with the sadistic sort of pleasure he’d been missing at the notion of L prostrate beneath him. This was quickly becoming more perfect by the second…but then again, he knew L would play right.

“You can’t deny it, L,” he whispered, long fingers trailing teasing circles over the detective’s bare hip, where it stuck out of disheveled, too-loose jeans. “Our contention turns you on more than anything else…” and to emphasize his point, Kira's teasing fingers slid beneath the rim of denim, seeking the length in that warm juncture between L’s thighs.

L twisted his head away, unable to keep the stain from his cheeks because Light knew how to touch him better than anyone else ever did—or ever could. Whether he wanted it or not, whether Kira was correct in his disturbing assumption—L wouldn’t yield that information, but he couldn’t clamp down fast enough on the small groan that scurried passed grit teeth when Light's probing fingers squeezed…

* * *

Mello was seething. Refusing to simply sit there and watch, he nudged the computer closer still, angling himself just right so that the machine fell into his lap, then gathering it up carefully he propped it against a lifted knee just right so that with the little slack he had at his left hand, could access the keys. The master bedroom still had its cameras set up but seeing as all equipment had been moved, it was not so easy to get the desired message across. It took him several minutes, by which Light had already firmly planted his hand deep past the hem of L’s jeans and upped the playing field just a tad bit more. Sadistic bastard.

"Sorry to ruin the moment," Mello said at last and his voice carried through the villa's PA. "I was under the impression you had somewhere to be. Best get on it, you son of a bitch!" he snarled, cutting out any further threats that while might have made him feel better would do little to remedy the all too complicated situation.

Light chuckled, “Oh we have an audience,” he purred, breath trailing along L’s jaw, gazed sated and settling on the closed flutter of those darkly smudged lashes. He squeezed tighter, the motion of his hand working his lover expertly, his other hand still clamped painfully tight around L’s wrists. “I know Linda’s watching too,” he continued, hushed and low into L’s ear, for the moment, blatantly ignoring Mello’s outburst. “I wonder if somewhere deep down, she enjoys seeing you like this—conquered, submissive, helpless against unwanted,” he paused, smirking because L’s own body was betraying him, “or not so unwanted, pleasure…”

“Stop drawing this out and do what you have to do,” L grit, fighting against the building pressure in his loins—it wasn’t so easy, not when Kira had made it a point to learn his body inside and out.

“You want me to stop?” Light chuckled, and laughed more when the answer wasn’t so immediate. “Suddenly you have no patience when it’s you who’s on the receiving end,” he went on, not letting up with his ministrations—in fact, intensifying the erotic attack, until L was trapped, straining beneath him, trying to ride it out without much success—teetering dangerously on the edge of submitting to the pleasure of Light’s intrusive fingers completely. “You who has the patience of the saint, who can sit there unblinking for 50 days and watch me bound helpless in a cell…now you want to hurry things along?”

Kira scoffed, delighted how L had to fight the whimpers that threatened to break from his throat—he was close, because Light knew exactly what he was doing. “Don’t you want to put on a show for them?” He purred tauntingly.

“Got to hell,” L grit back, somewhat breathlessly.

“Hmm, sorry, that’s not gonna happen,” Light simpered, changing his angle—tugging hard and long and brutal until L had to bury his face against the bedspread to wrestle with his orgasm, toes curling instinctively, which made Light smile with satisfaction, his mouth clamping to L’s pulse to suck a deep and bruising mark into his skin—something to remember him by; and god if he wasn’t as pressed for time as he was, he’d entertain the thought of forcing L over and fucking him senseless, because this power trip was truly too divine not to make Light painfully hard himself. Damnit.

* * *

The audience, however, was not fully attentive and so while Light made it a point to fluster the detective past the point of no return, Mello was still at work, clacking at the keys as quickly as he could without making unnecessary mistakes until at last locating his lover very much knocked out in the bathroom in the opposite wing. Not only had Kira made sure that the redhead was nowhere within reach of a computer, he made certain that he would be the least comfortable of the four. But seeing as Matt had yet to even stir, the discomfort levels would not be felt for some time. But there were amphetamines doubtlessly still running through his system…surely they would have some effect to counteract the sleep aid? Or would they compound it. Overdose. Shit.

All of a sudden it was imperative for Matt to wake up. “Fuck,” Mello hissed. His gaze fell back onto the second window just in time to catch sight of L squirming into the covers, stifling the groans that betrayed his pleasure. Scowling furiously, the blonde did not bother with another message, checking in on Linda and the creature-like thing that remained behind to haunt her. No clear view on a face; no distinct features easily seen beneath the loose jeans and cotton shirt. It was perverse.

This was going on for far too long. Mello dumped the laptop from his lap and turned to different methods. Leaning down, he caught a sleeve between his teeth and tugged it up, sliding the thin fabric beneath the cutting metal of the cuff – it wouldn’t do much after a while, but it would prevent immediate injury. And that was when Mello got destructive. Within minutes his wrist was bleeding but he’d heard the groan of wood where the arm was bolted to the back of the chair.

* * *

“You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now,” Light purred against his lover’s ear, “But your little protégé is causing ruckus downstairs, so I’m going to have to take care of him… unfortunately, I can’t leave you unattended, which puts me in a situation. It doesn’t escape me how unfair it is that I have to rush this, when you have had all the time in the world to torment me…”

“You are so bloodyfucking delusional!” L spat at last, and he only truly resorted to cursing when he no longer felt the need to keep up pretenses. “You only feel tormented because everything you’ve suffered in my custody—you brought on yourself, Light. I did not ever treat you the way you pretend I did. In fact, despite all rationale, I am the only person who insisted on treating you humanely once your reign as Kira fell.”

“I’m pretty certain I can counter that statement with some irrefutable evidence,” Light muttered, sitting up to reach for a small wooden case. He unlatched the lid and knocked it back—inside were three needles. “Tell me if this looks familiar,” he murmured, his gaze darkening as it fixed on the detective.

In the study, Linda caught sight of the syringes and knew what they were—what L himself had used them for not too long ago. And at that, the worst kind of panic took over: “MELLO!!!” She screamed, “He’s going to KILL L!!!!”

Mello froze, clamping down to look up pointedly at the screen. He caught sight of the case, identifying it for what it was. Of course Kira was going to unexpected ends to ensure his escape – L had already shaken off the effects of the drug, and undoubtedly could set himself free of his bonds. But this was… his eyes narrowed. Had Kira already found out what L had done to himself? No, he couldn’t have… there was no way. He would not kill him. He couldn’t. Would he just administer the first injection to knock him out, then?

Or was Mello giving the murderous fuck too much credit again? He swallowed dryly and with another sharp tug felt the armrest give a bit more. The goddamned thing was not in the least flimsy, which was only making his task more difficult. Regardless of the fact, he leaned closer to the screen. “Linda,” he said as calmly as he could muster. “Listen to me…. Calm down, please. I need you to calm down. Trust me… please…” he coaxed her quietly but the girl was beside herself once Light extricated the first syringe from its case.

“How can you tell me to calm down?!” she cried. “He’s going to kill him – he’s going… oh God!!” Linda sobbed. “Do something… please oh God, please please please!” she whimpered shaking her head as hot tears streamed down her flushed cheeks.

She continued to scream as Light prepped the first syringe and took a seat next to L. Unlike the incident that had come before, the detective did not crumble and beg for his life the way Kira had…in part because he was fairly certain Kira was bluffing… 75% certain…

“Light,” he said, and his lover paused to look him in the face, fingers stroking back L’s hair affectionately—for a moment there was something else there in his expression, something deeper, absorbing the calming, composed look that lingered in the detective’s haunting eyes.

“My god, I’m going to miss you,” Light whispered, distanced from himself and sounding ever so slightly lost…

It almost felt as if Light was stalling on purpose. The situation was growing desperate with each shrill cry that echoed off the hallway walls, as Linda continued her mantra, begging for help, begging Kira to stop, praying to whoever would listen to make it all stop and go away.

Mello threw a tantrum, booted foot kicking firmly into the side of the desk. It relieved some stress but did not solve anything. He sat there, panting, cringing at the pain at his wrist. Blood had stained through the black cuff and seeped into the cushions. Slick enough to slide through the metal cuff if only it was not so tightly secured. Safe of dislocating a couple of fingers, he wasn’t getting out that way. But the fucking chair did not want to cooperate either. A second spazzing tantrum – this one aimed at its proper target however – got him a step closer. Wood splintered and Mello cursed furiously. Several desperate tugs later, the bolt finally gave, allowing the armrest to break loose at last and he cried out, ripping the cuff free and cradling his wrist before he went to work, breaking out the other hand.

Linda must have heard it through her panic because she looked up at the screen and all of a sudden the world seemed a slightly brighter place. There was hope. But… was there time? “Hurry!!” she pleaded, more worried about what was going on upstairs than her current predicament.

Light leaned in and captured L’s lips in his own, tenderly, different from the way he’d been manhandling him moments earlier—the kiss was deep and passionate and bittersweet, before he pulled back, savoring the taste of his lover.

“Where do you get your courage at this moment?” he asked quietly, his amber eyes probing for understanding.

“From my faith…” L replied.

And Light’s expression twisted skeptically.

“In you,” the detective finished.

The lines in Kira’s face smoothed over, masking his reaction, and a moment later, once he’d digested the sentiment—perhaps oddly hopeful in a seemingly hopeless situation—he smirked.

“Doubt thou the stars are fire,” he purred softly, pressing another kiss to L’s temple, “Doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar…” he paused, smiling wisely, “But never doubt I love.”

And he slid the needle into L’s arm…

Linda froze, tears glistening upon her features, her cries silenced. Dead upon her lips because her eyes betrayed her. Certainly she could not be witnessing this. Certainly Light would not have gone so far… but… he had, hadn’t he? She trembled, her throat tight, sorrow rather than panic overwhelming her senses. She could not think. She could not even react to the horrific presence behind her, peeking over her shoulder to peer at the screen in curiosity. B was second thought. L’s dark eyes had closed, however. Previously unreadable features now smooth in drug-induced sleep. Linda stared at the screen, blinking rapidly to avert the stubborn tears – when would they ever stop now?

Mello on the other hand was not looking. Could not bring himself to watch it happen, whatever ‘it’ turned out to be. The unknown was better than confirmation of their worst fears just then. He’d risen off his seat, tugging the chair around the desk as far as it would go – which was only its far side, and slid across the surface to rummage frantically with his newly freed hand, wincing at the pressure in his bound wrist. His weapons were gone, removed from the drawers the previous night. But certainly there had to be something he could use to unlock the damn handcuffs. Wasn’t there usually always something handy – a nail, a perfectly sized pin, something! – in the movies? They had to get that divine coincidence from somewhere, right? Fuck!

“Uh uh uh,” and Light’s voice was surprisingly smooth for someone who’d just possibly killed his other half.

Mello whirled on him, but Kira was in the doorway, Mello’s own gun aimed squarely at him. “I don’t plan to shoot to kill,” he said, “But wounding is certainly an option.”

“You motherfuckingcunteatingbastard!!” Mello hissed. “What did you do?!? What the fuck did you just do?!?!?”

Light’s eyebrows rose. “You know, from the way Linda is bellowing it’s clear what she thinks—but you? I expected more from.”

“Yea?” Mello snarled, eyes narrowing. “Funny, that. The feeling’s mutual.” He paused his escape, half-sitting, half-draped across his desk, but it was not for fear of whatever bullet might add one more scar or another. He’d had plenty of guns pointed at his head in the past to be fazed now. Or perhaps he was simply that goddamned pissed.

“You think I killed him?” Light asked bluntly. “If that’s the case, then this needle may make you a tad bit nervous,” he murmured, holding up a full syringe, just like the one he’d used on L.

Mello’s reaction was likely contrary to whatever Light had imagined. The blonde actually grinned – it was bitter and downright humorless, but just like the way he slid off the desk, stepping forward as far as his bonds would let him, it did not speak of fear. Adrenaline pumped mercilessly through him. “Come the fuck on, then,” he said lowly. Well, the bastard would have to get close enough first, now wouldn’t he?

Light seemed to hesitate, understanding that a wrong move would result in his plan going up in smoke. Mello would eat him, and not in a good way. No, Kira had just expertly undone everything he’d worked these last months to do—the bonding, the passion, the professions of love and emotion—Jesus, that was only two days earlier—it all seemed to vanish in the curl of Mello’s snarl—up in ashes, and Kira didn’t come a step closer.

“He’s not dead,” Light said after a moment. “You should know me better than that. L does, he said it—Linda is obviously fucking clueless, but I can imagine with the racket she’s making, it would make anyone panic and nearly rip their own arm off to get out—even you.” Light nodded to the blood dripping down Mello’s limb.

Mello didn’t even blink at it—his fearsome gaze riveted to Light as though it would burn through him like acid. Light was composed, albeit wielding a lot less showmanship than before. He watched Mello coolly, his eyes steady, still slightly haunted however.

“Did you ever love me?” He said suddenly, out of the blue.

The comment was unexpected and it showed in the way Mello’s features contorted for a moment, eyes narrowing with an emotion all together different from the seething anger that had been keeping him on his toes thus far. What?!… nonono.. he wasn’t going to do this. Not now, goddamnit!

“Does it matter?” the blonde asked coldly but the previous effect had already been chipped. Damn it. He should have been prepared.

“Yes, it matters,” Light said softly. He still had the gun, but his aim wasn’t quite so threatening just then. “When you all get out of this,” he said, “Only L is not going to see what is happening in black and white—mark my words, his take on it is going to piss the rest of you off. But you’re his heir, there’s a reason for that—if you saw things cut and dry and black and white, then you have no business to ever use L’s name. He chose you for many reasons—relying on your instinctive knee-jerk reactions isn’t one of them. This would all make a lot more sense if you all weren’t reacting to what you see on the surface.”

“It isn’t a matter of black and white,” Mello scoffed angrily. “It’s a matter of betrayal and your bloody fucking superiority complex. It’s a matter of going about things – whatever the FUCK it is you’re trying to accomplish here – the wrong goddamned way. Because mark my words, Light, when I get out of here I’m going to punt your arse seven ways from bloody Sunday for this – for laying a finger on them, for bashing me over the fucking head the other night, so help me God!” That particular loose end had returned at last somewhere through the struggle of the last several minutes. The dots connecting at last, but all too late.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Light replied, countering Mello’s outburst with the same cool and quiet demeanor. “You said you wanted to save me…”

What was he doing? Having second thoughts? Why the sudden sentimentality when he’d only just been applauding his vindictive victory a short time earlier? What was this vacillating initiative of his anyway? Somewhere underneath it all he knew, didn’t he? He knew what he’d done—to himself, to them, he knew the sacrifice he’d just made.

A frown touched Mello’s lips. “…is that what you’re still counting on?” he asked, but his tone too had quieted because this went against everything that had just happened that morning. “You’re hoping once you’re gone and I’ve cooled down that I will still have that desire to save you…” and he did not say it to be cynical, but rather draw the absurdity of the situation into perspective. “It doesn’t work that way, Light. It isn’t so damn simple. Am I to be thankful you kindly left Near and Halle behind when you wiped the SPK? Am I to be thankful that you’re simply knocking each and every one of us out so that you can make your escape? What of the repercussions?” He asked pointedly. “What of the betrayal?” Mello paused, lips pursed and he shook his head, stepping back to lean against the edge of the desk. He peered up at the man that began as his enemy, turned lover and now… how did the story end, he wondered. “Why is my answer important to you now, Light? Do you hope to relieve or further burden your conscience? If that is a functioning thing now a days…”

“Because I want an answer,” Light said determined in his pursuit of the topic. “Because I told you what I felt the other night. Because I’m leaving, Mello and when next we meet, I don’t know what’s going to happen. When next we meet… one of us may die. And I’m not referring to your temper, to your anger, to your sense of betrayal. I’m referring to that choice you knew you would probably one day have to make…”

“Ah…” Mello’s chuckle was quiet, devoid of mirth. Emerald colored visage lowered to the stone floor before him. “A choice for which your actions here and now may just be the catalyst,” he pointed out. “But if it is a simple answer you seek, then yes…” and while many would have kept their eyes down, Mello lifted them, looking at Light through the haphazard fall of jagged blonde bangs. “Yes, I wanted to save you… a task you do not make easy. Yes, I do love you, and that leaves me with little other choice but to wait and see how big a fool I’ve been against my better judgment. But where does that leave us, hm?” he asked, lifting a brow and tilting his chin ever slightly. “Linda’s quiet, I would not be surprised if she had fainted. The staff’s locked away, L’s down for several hours, as is Matt and now you’ve come for me so that no further trouble is caused and you two can make your grand escape.” He hardly paused before asking, “With you last night, wasn’t she?” Mello was referring to the room check, to the nagging feeling that he had missed something dreadfully important.

Light’s smile was small and did not reach his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “You were very close. She found me—she brought me back to myself when I was more lost than I have ever been in my life. At the moment I hit bottom—there was Kira.”

He seemed vaguely pensive about it. “I remember being in the woods and asking for help, I didn’t know what to do, my last end had slipped, and I needed help like I’d never needed it before. No one else was there—not even me, it was like I’d abandoned myself… You have your faith, Mello—what does it say when of all moments, it was then that Kira was returned to me?”

“No,” Mello contradicted him smoothly. “It was your deranged servant who managed to return to you, doubtlessly strung along by your mysteriously absent shinigami. Kira is but an idea, a crude mispronunciation of a rather simple term.”

Light’s smile seemed ever slightly more cynical. “Nevermind,” he said. “It momentarily escaped me how we differ on the subject.” He glanced at the syringe in his hand, and then at Mello standing there, partially freed of his binds.

“I’ll tell you what then,” Light said slowly. “We’ll pit your God, against mine. I’m not going to drug you. I will however, continue with the plan as I’ve drawn it out—if you manage to intervene and stop me, then it was fate ordained by your holy divinity. If not however—well, then the victory over this particular fate, is mine… to whatever end.”

Mello watched him curiously. Was that a challenge, or a decision made for other reasons? Light had yet to come any closer since his original approach even though the all too volatile blonde had visibly calmed from his earlier outburst. “You’ve yet to lift the lockdown, Light,” Mello pointed out with a brief nod toward the darkened windows. “Do not challenge me like that, because I will stop you. The hard part’s been done,” he lifted his bloody arm, the metal cuff still attached and its empty twin swinging loosely. “Can you finish your preparations and be out of here within minutes?”

Light smirked slightly. “Not at all,” he said. “You clearly have the advantage right now. I am however, going to lock the study door—which should buy me some more time, if even. Any plans for making it through a solid oak door, Mello?” He was backing out at that moment, long fingers upon the doorknob, pulling it closed as he stepped into the hall. “I suppose the lines are drawn then—may the better intentions win.”

The moment the door closed, Mello threw a well aimed kick at the back of the chair, it strained on his arm but it would get the job done a whole lot quicker. “You can really be,” he hissed, “A real.fucking.CUNT!” Three more brutal kicks in tune to each word dislodged the backing from the remaining armrest so that Mello could pull himself free. Previously discarded boot was recovered and hastily laced as he returned to the laptop, tapping quickly at the keys. Indeed, Linda had fainted where she sat in her chair. Perhaps it was for the better. But with her down for the count, Mello was the only one coherent to do anything about this mess. Ok. Think fast. He glimpsed at the sealed windows. There was always the possibility of waiting until the metal panes began to lift to break through the window itself and bolt around the perimeter to cut off Light’s escape. As far as he knew, the lockdown was universal, but he would not put it past Light to figure out a way to unlock only those areas required.

Of course Light wasn’t about to make it easy, returning to the study where Linda was out cold, he took aim at the main hub, and promptly cut off Mello’s laptop from accessing half the house’s surveillance, he also barred him from any outside contact, and cut off his networking abilities to the security system. What he left him with was not much, but Mello could still see the study on his screen, along with the master bedroom—where ironically, L had been neatly tucked into bed under the covers despite his unconsciousness, and of course, restraints. Matt was still on the floor, and as far as Mello could tell, had not budged at all—it was worrisome, but Mello was still chalking it up to the initial dose of sleep aid. What he truly didn’t want to consider was how it was reacting with the drugs already in the redhead’s system prior to that… goddamnit.

That was about when Light moved to Linda—now that she was quiet—and deftly administered a syringe to her. Linda wouldn’t be waking up for quite some time then… three down… one to go.

Mello cursed, frustrated, fingers tapping irritably on the keys as his mind whirled through the options still left to him. Think damnit, think. He turned, eying the spacious study, its walls, its door. All points of escape for the moment blocked, and yet, he could not help but test the lock on the door regardless, then crouching down, inspected the lock itself. The key had been removed. No chance in pushing it out pulling it back inside, then. All right. He stood. Another way then…

* * *

Halfway across the villa, the floor was possibly one of the most uncomfortable sleeping surfaces Matt had encountered in recent history. But then again, with just how hazy everything seemed; body heavy, mind groggy, eyes refusing to open much, he couldn’t really focus on it. What he did notice – after closing his eyes and blacking out for several more minutes at a time – was the inexplicable strain upon his shoulders. His fingers were tingly, dormant. That could not be a good sign. The first attempt to move did not succeed well. The second attempt brought a hiss to his lips and the bathroom floor zoomed into focus. That detail confused him.

Why would he be in the bloody bathroom, and why for Christ’s sake, would he be in such an unpleasant position on the goddamned bathroom floor?

And then that morning returned, trickling in as it made it past the dam. Kira… the book… the coffee. Shit.

* * *

“Mail is awake,” Misa murmured, pushing in close to the surveillance screen to see the redhead stirring on the bathroom floor.

“I’ll handle him,” Light replied grimly, back at work across the main hub, he’d amped up his efforts obviously, since putting Mello in direct contention with himself had not been part of the plan. “What I need you to do is take that syringe—if Mello gets out of that room, you have to stick him with it—administer the whole thing, we’ll need all the time we can get to properly make any headway on the road.”

“Okay, Raito,” Misa purred, small fingers curling around the needle, “If he gets out, I’ll get him.” The way she smiled when she said it was slightly unnerving, but Light let it roll off of him, his attention moving to the redhead—it would probably behoove him to put Matt down the moment he came to since there was most likely no way he’d ever get the talented hacker to give up his techie secrets, the less he was poised to interfere then, the better.

Light glanced at the screen as Matt was stirring in earnest now, and about that moment, Matt decided to page him: “Kira, you fucker!!” he hollered. “Show yourself you sonofabitch!!”

In the study, Mello paused his efforts, turning instinctively toward the door the moment he heard the familiar hollering. It was with some relief that he exhaled, but knew that at that precise moment, Light was moving in to deal with the situation, which only caused him further worry. Fuck! The blonde raced to the screen, piecing together what little he'd been allowed access to in order to follow Kira's progress toward the bathroom.

Matt pushed himself up onto one knee, crouching in place to relieve some of the strain of the less than comfortable position. The redhead was on attention, watching the door intently and listening hard for footsteps as he struggled to reach the key ring looped on his belt. The Swiss army knife would be of much use right about now if only he could get a proper angle to free it. But the anticipated footsteps resounded toward him, the door pushed open and the overhead light flicked on, making Matt recoil in the initial blinding glow. His scowl was in place, however, but his anger was not so volatile as his lover's. To him this coupe was of little surprise, although regrettable all the same.

“Did you say something?” Light muttered rather arrogantly, his gaze sliding down his nose at the redhead, who was at the severe disadvantage of being in the one place he never wanted to be: on his knees before Kira.

“Where are they? What did you do to them?”

Matt wasn’t sure how long he’d been out for, hell he wasn’t even sure if Kira had still been on the premises until a moment ago, it seemed obvious lockdown was still in place, which meant the bastard had yet to crack the system to alleviate it; but Kira as trapped animal may have been more dangerous at that moment than if he were running free.

“They’re sleeping it off,” Light replied, seeming to enjoy his superior position over the redhead. “Mello’s hurt himself trying to escape, and Linda worked herself into a fit—but both conditions were self-induced, and they would have been completely unharmed otherwise.” He paused, then smirked. “How’s your back?” And that seemed to allude to the very obvious fact that he’d put Matt in this awkward position quite deliberately.

"Better than your arse is going to be," Matt spat knowing full well all threats would be meaningless at that precise moment, but if words were all he had, then he sure as fuck was going to use them.

The fact that L had gone unmentioned however, seemed a bit troubling. He could not begin to imagine just what the bastard had been doing all this time - goddamnit, it was impossible to keep track of the hour with the windows barred like this. But he did have the satisfaction of knowing that Kira was still working to get himself out of the stronghold. Between himself and L, all security had been made pretty goddamned flawless. Of course the fucker had all resources at his disposal now and it would be a matter of time before he cracked it, but until then, Matt could gloat.

“Thought you weren’t interested,” Light replied haughtily to the comment, which only infuriated Matt more. “Explaining anything to you, however, has always been futile, since you’re about as multi-dimensional as an amped-up cyber punk reject,” Light paused and winked, “Oops. But rest assured that I will crack your system and be on my way soon enough—I’ve had all this time to study the way you work anyway…and you thought I wasn’t paying attention.” He chuckled and Matt was furious. “Wouldn’t want to leave you alone here without a fix though, so I brought you a present, as a gesture of good faith,” he smirked and withdrew a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

“I’ll just put these here,” he said simply, placing them up on the counter where Matt most certainly couldn’t reach them, but could see them sure enough. The redhead cursed inwardly. And Kira turned to depart. “I’ll be back in a little while,” he murmured, too amused. He’d just about crossed the threshold when he stopped again, drawing out a lighter from his other pocket as if he’d forgotten. “Suppose those won’t do you any good without this, huh?” he purred, feigning polite ignorance, and set the lighter down on the edge of the opposite counter, even further away.

Matt would have gaped but that would give Kira too much pleasure. God-bloody-damnit! The moment the insufferable bastard was gone, the redhead doubled his efforts of reaching his keyring, because fuck, he wasn't going to simply sit here and wait for the events to unfold. At least he still had his DS on him, stuffed away in a pocket. Little good would it do him if he could not reach it in the first place, although by this point, it was questionable whether the distraction would be effective.


* * *

Mello stopped watching once the threat was eliminated, returning to his own task at hand. Seeing as there was no way to get out of the room without making some sort of wreck, he aimed his efforts at the door itself. Or rather, the doorknob. He'd considered busting the handles off by force, but decided against it seeing as it might in fact prove more difficult. All it took was locating a small enough coin that would flit through the slit of the screws, prying them off one at a time.

And look at that, he just happened to have the so-called coin in his zippered pocket…

* * *

It was hard to tell how much later it was when the sound of metal plates attempting to lift shuddered through the house. Mello froze, having wrestled with the damn door screws until his fingers were chafed and cramped. The fasteners were old, and getting them to even budge with the unconventional coin was hard enough. But at that very disconcerting sound all motion stopped and his gaze shot to his own windows—if those panels lifted, he was going through the glass and there was no two ways about it. He waited, adrenalin starting to kick in, but the shift was a false alarm—close, but no cigar.

Mello went back to the screws with a new vengeance, because maybe it hadn’t worked that time, but Light was on the very verge of escape, and that sentiment was quite tangibly floating in the air.

* * *

Matt twisted himself up trying to find a better position, and trying to inadvertently brush the cigarette package with his foot in the hopes of knocking it to the floor. Even an unlit cigarette at that moment would work better for his nerves—and the screaming aches all over his body. That was it. The decision was sealed. The moment he ever had an opportunity to kick the bloody living shite out of Light again, God himself would have to come down to stop him, because this was the bloody last straw. Not Mello, not L, not even Lara Fucking Croft would be able to pry him away…and that was saying something…

* * *

Light’s attention was split between surveillance and hacking the system. He’d cracked quite a bit in terms of the files and access he needed from here on in, ironically the first step truly, was getting out of the damn villa, and that hadn’t been accomplished yet. It was getting close, but hadn’t quite gotten there.

Misa had busied herself a bit more freely, raiding the kitchen now that she had the ability to do so—she even made him a cup of tea the way she knew he liked it; a strange throw-back to their former domesticity. It was going to be interesting for her now that he was so changed, there was not much need to masquerade the way he’d been doing and his Id was a little more liberated than it had been while he was in Japan. Mr. And Mrs. Kira were an unnerving pair now—and given Misa’s obvious madness, swaying around the room, having adopted some strange hybrid of mannerisms between herself and L, well, she seemed nothing short of certifiable; but thus far her loyalty still went unchallenged, which was the most important part.

She was obviously slightly bored at present—looking forward to jabbing Mello with a needle was one thing, but the blonde had yet to escape. In which case, Misa flopped on the couch and flipped open her Death Note like it was second nature. The nuance caught Light’s attention because it had been so long since he himself enjoyed that sort of freedom with the notebook. He did, however quirk an eyebrow at the rash of rainbow-colored ink that littered the pages. Oh. Lovely.

“Raito,” Misa sang, “Can I use a laptop to do Kira’s judgments?”

Light’s brow knit, but that was a suitable enough request. “I suppose,” he muttered. “Take one of the ones from that station—but I need you to keep an eye on Mihael and Mail at the same time.” His use of their real names was necessary, since Misa couldn’t seem to identify them any other way—she seemed to be listening solely to The Eyes at that moment.

“Okay,” she simpered, clacking on the laptop to bring herself online. “What about Ryuuzaki?” She muttered a minute later. Mention of L had Light instinctively checking the monitor. Nothing had changed. In fact, a drug induced sleep seemed the best thing to quell the detective’s nightmares. And ha, the dumb cat was nesting in his hair like nothing was out of the ordinary…

“What about him?” Light muttered, focus returning to the task at hand.

“Can I kill him yet?”

Light winced. “No.” He said, and his tone was stern. “Not now, not ever, do you understand?”

Misa didn’t even bat an eye. “Okay,” she sang again.

Light’s brow furrowed a bit, wondering if he should press the matter, because just then her tone was quite ADDD/5-year-old-child. He considered it for a moment, watching as she scrolled through Japanese news reports on the internet, and then he decided it wasn’t necessary.

* * *

“Fuck this!” Mello snarled, tossing the coin aside as he pushed himself up. The handle was wobbly but nowhere near the state he had hoped to accomplish and he was most definitely running out of time. Violence it was. Bracing himself against the door, he slammed his heel into the antique knob. It was the second attempt that caused it to give and rattled the door loudly in its frame.

* * *

The cigarettes were on the floor. Matt nearly cried for joy… he just had to retrieve them. But with that much accomplished, he sat back down, releasing a breath and leaning his head back against the tiled wall as his whole body screamed in protest. There was a definite decrease in hit points and morale at this junction with no clear escape routes in sight. The loud crash caused him to peel one eye and look curiously toward the half-closed door. Just what the hell was going on out there?

It was then that the phone in his pocket vibrated. The redhead scowled irritably and pushed himself back up, using the edge of the toilet to push the object from his pocket. It tumbled onto the tiled floor. He maneuvered it so that it could be flipped open, its message displayed. It was coded. Fuck, he really wanted a fag but the binary was interpreted quickly enough.

“Working on getting out. Do not do anything stupid. Cannot afford having you knocked out. M.” It was obviously sent from within the villa, which meant that his lover was not as injured as he had originally expected, and clearly had more freedom to move around than any of them.

* * *

“Hmm,” Light muttered, watching Mello’s rather exhilarative efforts on the monitor. “This is going to cut it close, Misa.”

The girl blinked, but looked rather excited about it. “Everything’s ready, Raito,” she purred, “I’ve packed for you, and I made sure we have snacks, and water, and—,”

“That’s nice, Misa,” he said rather dismissively, getting up from his seat, “I’m glad you’ve thought about this.”

She watched him as he walked passed, and then idly jabbed a finger at Linda, who was still utterly unconscious next to her. “Think you’re going to steal Misa’s Raito,” she chided. “Because you have pretty blonde hair like Misa did once—but that won’t work, because Raito likes black hair better, black hair like Ryuuzaki’s—like this,” and she tugged on her own short choppy messy that had once been so silken and fine. “See?”

Obviously, Linda didn’t answer…