Selfish Mercy, Part 3/3 [completed]
Wow, I meant to finish this ages ago, but work has kept me so busy, and I really deliberated about how I wanted to end it. So sorry to those who loved Part 2. Not only is this a month late, it's not as good as Part 2. But it's here!
Title: "Selfish Mercy", Chapter 3 of 3
Pairing: L x Light x L
Genre: AU, Horror, Romance
Rating: M
Words: 4600 for the chapter
Warning: Don't read this without reading Part 1 and Part 2. Some serious canon-bending around Episode 25/Chapter 58; to say much more would spoil it. I tried to keep it IC, though. :)
Story summary: L has his own dark secret. Perhaps this is why, in a strange way, he feels for Kira.
Part 3
"Look at these files and tell me what you think," said L, who sat in an airplane seat exactly like he sat in any other chair. They were on their way to London. A perplexing series of disappearances had occurred over the past few weeks in the south of England, and L seemed to suspect that these, like the Kira murders, were linked to supernatural activity. Light hadn't known Watari could pilot a plane, or that L had his own private mini jet. But he had stopped being surprised by the detective a long time ago.
As Light thumbed through the thin stack of papers, a series of young faces stared up at him in grayscale. Children were going missing, one every week. Boy, girl, boy, girl. Of the eight abducted so far, all but one had birthdays between December 12 and December 22. It was definitely deliberate, and very strange. Though it wasn't as though the kidnappings coincided with, say, a full moon or anything. He could feel L's eyes on him as he scanned the data.
Light frowned. "This seems like the kind of case the police should be able to handle, doesn't it? Why are you getting involved?"
"Doesn't Light-kun's sense of justice extend to British schoolchildren?"
"Well yes, but..."
"Scotland Yard requested my services. I took the case because, as I've mentioned, I think there's something not quite ordinary at work here."
"Something the police wouldn't think to take into account."
"Yes. Besides, I felt like seeing England again. I used to live there, you know."
Light wasn't sure he knew what L meant by "live." As possessor of the Death Note, Light had thought he understood: there were the living, with their fragile, pre-determined lifespans, and then there were the dead. In truth, though, it was not that way at all. The Death Note made no provision for the undead. And then there was an area still grayer, between the living and the undead themselves. Light didn't know what he counted as anymore. In the three months since L had revealed himself for what he really was, Light's health had suffered. But the vampire never failed to remind him of what would have happened if he'd been less merciful. And Light did not forget it. To L he owed his relative freedom, and probably his life. But just how alive was he, now, and how free?
"Is Light-kun hungry?" asked L, who had begun slurping fruit jellies from their tiny plastic cups.
"Not especially." He hadn't been in a long time. "I take it you are."
L shrugged. "I can wait." Slurp. He was stacking the cups inside each other in a sort of tower, never using more than two fingers to do anything.
"You're so strange," Light sighed. "Even for a vampire."
~*~
London was as foggy as he'd always heard. The city just looked haunted. And as a setting for detective work, nothing compared. He could see why L had wanted to return here. Outside the hotel window, the sky's grey veil was pinkening at its eastern edge. It was dawn.
"Does the fog here protect you from the sun?" Light asked.
"Only slightly," L replied. "At best, it buys me a hour on either end."
Light lay back on the bed. He desperately wanted to sleep, but he could not. Vampires, he'd always thought, were supposed to sleep during the day, but L never indulged in more than a short doze. And despite his exhaustion, sleep eluded Light as well.
Rose-gold light spilled into the room, and L stood up to draw the blinds against the morning. "Tomorrow, we will pay a visit to Winchester, where Watari's orphanage is located," he told Light. "Depending on how long we end up staying in England, we might start operating from there. But for the time being, we're better off downtown."
"Makes sense," Light said, making room on the bed for the vampire's lanky form. L sidled up to Light and curled around him possessively. A cool kiss below his ear gave way to another as L's lips trailed along his jawline.
"Light-kun, I'm starving," he murmured. Light nodded, pulling his collar down from his neck to give the predator access. Eyes closed, he awaited the cool, concentrated pain as his veins were punctured. The routine had acquired an almost clinical feel. It sickened him the way he let L do this, the way he just succumbed without a fight. But the feeling itself had become, well...calming, a lulling hypnosis that was the closest Light ever got to sleep these days. There was a surprising pleasure in it, not unlike another kind of penetration he'd been subjected to, equally frequently, by the same party. As his awareness ebbed out with his blood, he grudgingly welcomed the vampire's narcotic embrace.
At last the suction eased up. "You're killing me," Light breathed, "only...slowly."
As L raised his head, a hint of apology darkened his eyes. "You won't die from this," he replied, wiping his lips with a chewed-on thumb. "You'll lose more blood in a bad nosebleed."
"I'm not talking about blood loss, and you know it," said Light.
L kissed him and stroked his hair. The two slim bodies rubbed together. L lived off of Light; that was Kira's punishment. Little by little he was losing himself. Though more than smart enough to recognize it, he was not strong enough to stop it. L was slowly consuming him, and the first thing to go would be his will.
~*~
When it came to investigation, however, Light still had a formidable mind of his own, and he'd told L this was a terrible idea. No, he'd insisted it was a terrible idea, but the stubborn bastard hadn't listened to him. Perhaps it was a stirring of incipient servitude, perhaps not, but Light did not want the two of them to separate. Just because Light could investigate in broad daylight and L could not was no reason to abandon him to his own devices. He did not want to be alone. In fact it was a foreign feeling; as popular as he was, he'd always been a loner at heart. He'd used his so-called friends, his girlfriends -- everyone. The people he really respected, his family, had given him plenty of space, and he appreciated it. But now, on his own in the streets of London, Light felt uneasy.
Daylight was waning. L had promised to join him when dusk set in, but that was still a few hours away. He checked his phone. No new messages. That meant L had made no progress from the hotel room. Unsurprising; if they could have solved the case with an internet connection and their combined genius, they'd have already done so. Light had been exploring the neighborhoods where most of the abducted children lived, conducting interviews so casual the subjects never noticed they were being mined for information. Watari was meeting with Scotland Yard, playing as always the dutiful middleman. What his true part in all this was, Light might never learn.
Rather suddenly, Light began to feel weak. It had begun with a dull anxiety -- he'd attributed it to being apart from L for the first time in some weeks -- but now his head spun and his stomach churned with nausea, and he broke into a full-body fever sweat. He stumbled towards the shade of a concrete overhang. He recalled one summer day when he'd been forced to play tennis in 110 degree heat. That's what it felt like, but the February air was crisp and cool. Perhaps it was not separation anxiety at all that he'd felt earlier, but something else. Leaning against the side of the building, he pulled out his phone, struggling to hold it still enough to contact L.
"Hai, Light-kun."
"Ryuuzaki, I'm...I feel sick."
"Watari will come for you. He'll take you home and I'll take over the night shift."
Light nodded weakly, knowing even as he did so how futile the motion was over the phone. But it was all he could muster. People passed him, occasionally pausing to notice his state. He considered entering the nearest store when his stomach turned and emptied itself into his palm -- a tiny clump of blood. The sight of it frightened him, and he somehow found the strength to run. He ran to the darkest place he could find -- the shadow of a darkened alley, sheltered from the sun's low angle. He didn't know if he was even in the right part of town anymore, but as soon as he away from the light he felt better. It wasn't that dark, but somehow it made a difference. He recovered his breath, still clutching at the hollow sick pain in his stomach and chest. He sank to the ground with his back to the wall and closed his eyes.
Only when he'd sat there long enough for the pounding in his head to subside did he hear the muffled sound of nearby whimpering. He rose shakily to his feet, suddenly remembering his job. Moving towards the noise, he held his breath, hoping for a stroke of luck. A very small girl was hiding in an overturned recycling bin. Her blue jeans were torn and she bled from one knee. She might have been seven years old. Her face, framed by blonde curls, was terrified.
"What's the matter?" Light asked her, crouching down to her level. "Are you okay?"
"Please help me," she whispered. "He's coming."
"Who?" Light asked, feeling his heart race at the sound of footfalls. He knew he was too big to hide here; he had to protect the child. The approaching man was heavyset and light-haired. Light could tell at a glance he was somebody's lackey, by no means the mastermind behind this criminal plot.
"Audrey!" the man called. "I know you're here, Audrey. Playtime's over."
Light stood up. "Are you looking for someone?" he asked. "Maybe I can help. I'm with the police."
As expected, the stranger was startled. "Who are you looking for, sir?" Light asked, cooly repressing a smirk. "Audrey, was it? Your daughter?"
"Y-yeah," he said. "My daughter Audrey. She loves to make trouble, always pretending to run away from home."
"I see. And where is home?"
The man was fidgeting, his eyes darting everywhere but in line with Light's, and he hesitated one nanosecond too long. "173 Hampshire," he sputtered at last.
Using his phone, Light looked up the address he'd been given. "The pharmacy?" he asked, completely deadpan. He sent a signal to L and one to Watari, and pretended to type something longer into the phone, watching the suspect from the corner of his eye. He saw the stranger's hand fall subtly to his side and immediately recognized the danger there. For a man his size, the guy moved quickly, but Light was quicker and fired first, sending the other mans' gun flying in a bloody spiral from his grip. The man staggered, clutching his wounded arm, and Light hurried to take the weapon from the ground. The girl screamed and ran out from her hiding place. For a brief moment Light thought of chasing after her, to hear her story, but the pull of justice kept his aim and eye on the perpetrator as she escaped into the open streets. But as Light watched her run towards safety, her would-be-kidnapper scrambled to his feet and lunged at Light. Thinking he glimpsed a knife, Light fired two more shots, and the man slumped against the wall.
"Who are you working for?" Light demanded, pressing the barrel to the man's temple and trying not to see or smell the bloom of hot red ooze spreading over his shirtfront.
The man laughed. "I won't tell you now! I'm a dead man. You've got --" he coughed -- "nothing to threaten me with."
"Then tell me, and I'll kill you mercifully," Light said. "Otherwise, you'll only suffer more." Though he knew L would scold him for it later, he felt no guilt about killing this criminal. But as he stood there, the gun still aimed, a strange sensation swamped his senses. Again he felt the weakness in his knees and chest. But, he realized at once, this was not sickness; it was hunger. Crippling hunger. Almost automatically, he knelt beside the dying thug, bending gingerly to taste the pooling blood. At first he just dabbed at it with his tongue; finding it oddly appealing, he drank deeper. At once he regained his sense of balance, a feeling of health he hadn't had in weeks. He seemed to see clearer as he stared into the man's glazed eyes, now laced with fear. If this was what he needed, then... He drank, and he felt the man's pulse slow and his heartbeat falter. By the time he'd had his fill, the man was dead.
Light sat there in the half-lit alley, staring at his bloodless victim. The guilty corpse looked like a fat, cold fish. Light shuddered. For all the times he'd killed, this was the first victim he'd really watched, heard, and felt die. But it was self defense; L would cover for him. He wouldn't approve, but he'd cover for him. Light briefly regretted the loss of a potential informant, but it wasn't a total waste. He felt inside his pockets for his wallet and ID. At the very least they could go through his mobile phone to trace down his superiors...
"Yagami-kun."
Light turned around to find himself looking up into the wizened face of Watari.
"Watari, I -- He attacked me first! This man was part of the kidnapping ring. I got his information. He practically gave himself away. I saw the little girl -- "
Watari smiled warmly and held out a handkerchief from his coat pocket. "You have some blood on your face, Yagami-kun."
Shame welled up inside him and he felt sick all over again. Why, why, why did it have to be like this? But the old man put a kind hand on his shoulder.
"Come, Light-kun. Come away from here."
Light nodded weakly, but he turned his face away from Watari, and for the second time that afternoon, he threw up blood. This time, it was not his own.
~*~
But he still wasn't really a vampire, was he? The bright sunlight had become uncomfortable for him, but not toxic. His teeth were not the same as L's. And L still drank his blood, so he must be human...right? He really didn't understand the rules, since all L's vague explanations made them seem so arbitrary, malleable, and prone to individual exception. There was no simple statement of "How to Use."
The two of them were huddled around the desk, surrounded by fresh data. Along with the flask Watari had brought for him, the contents of which Light knew better than to question, L was drinking a cup of tea. How very English. They'd tracked down the lucky girl Audrey Kimball as well as several of the most recently dialed numbers in the late Gregory Wyman's mobile.
"I do wish we could interrogate Wyman, but I suppose it couldn't be helped. He did intend to kill you, I have no doubt." L assumed his pensive pose. "A rash, impulsive man, acting out of almost animal instinct; not the brightest in the chain of command. A pawn."
"I drank his blood, Ryuuzaki."
"Yes, you've said that."
"Doesn't that bother you at all?"
"No. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Your body rejected it though, am I right?"
Light did not answer.
"In time, Light-kun's system will adjust to it."
"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?" Light exclaimed. "Starve?"
"You won't die."
"That's not what I asked."
L said nothing. He sipped his tea. He looked exactly like he had back in the old days at headquarters, before everything was revealed, when all Light's cards were stacked up right and he wanted nothing more than to see L dead and buried. That insolent bastard with his stupid frog posture and his insufferable glare and all his horrible habits. Even if Kira had been evil, and L the more noble, L was still far crueler. And now it was too late to defeat him. Too late...
The bedposts were made of wood. Of course L hadn't been so careless as to explain the rules of vampire mortality, and Light's attempts to separate truth from legend weren't much better than guesswork. And yet, it couldn't hurt to try. Engrossed in case materials, L wasn't paying attention to him anyway. But as much as he liked the symbolism, he probably couldn't break the bedposts. He'd have to make do with something else.
Without warning, Light grabbed L's chair, with L still in it, and flung it backwards to the floor. Startled, L toppled to the ground, and Light seized the flimsy wooden chair and smashed it with all the strength he had. It splintered into bits, and Light grabbed the largest one, sharp on both ends. With the still-stunned L pinned against the floor, Light poised the makeshift stake between their chests.
"L, make me a vampire now, a real vampire, or I'll kill you right now."
L stared.
"I mean it!" Light demanded. "I can't stand this anymore."
"At this point, if I die, you'll be like this forever," said L nonchalantly. "You'll go mad."
The stake quivered in Light's hand. "Then I'll kill both of us. Please, Lawliet. Please finish it."
"I need you like this, Light-kun. For one, you can still go out in the sun. It's quite useful for our investigations -- "
"Shut up! I don't want to be useful to you. Do you have any idea what this is like for me?"
L's eyes narrowed. "It seems I overestimated Light-kun's willingness to obey his master. Shall I remind you who it was that kept you alive?"
"If this is living, I've had enough," Light growled. Just then he coughed up a splash of blood, which landed on L's shirt. L stared like he'd just watched an ice cream cone topple to the ground.
"It will be hard for me to drink that now," he said regretfully.
"Shut up!" Light shouted. The stake pressed against L's chest, and he felt something give slightly beneath his weight. If it was possible for L to grow paler, he did. Light stared him down. "Listen to me Lawliet. I haven't eaten in days! I can't stomach anything. I can't sleep at night or during the day and I can't focus on the case. All I can think about is how inhuman I feel."
"But killing innocent FBI agents did not make Light-kun feel inhuman," L said. "That is curious." Light's eyes flashed, but L remained calm. "Haven't you got the best of both worlds? You don't need to eat or sleep; all you need to do is provide."
"Provide food for you! And the occasional daylight mission."
"Not only that," L corrected, moving his thigh between Light's legs. Light gasped and bit his lip, still perched atop L, nearly letting go of his weapon at the instant of the touch. What was it about sex with L that felt so irresistible, so necessary? It had never been like this before. Before, it was not L himself that had aroused him, but the contest. Kira versus L. And even when L had been the one on top, Light had relished the knowledge that he was tightening his control over L's emotions. In fact, that was why he was still here, like this, a shadow of himself. He had seduced L, body and soul, and like everything else, it had backfired. Light was paralyzed with indecision, his two halves frozen in gridlock. Which half was real? Never in his life had he felt so confused, or so defenseless. So dependent. He hated L for defeating him, for using him and claiming to love him, but most of all, he hated L for twisting his soul into somehow, somehow loving him back.
"Ryuuzaki..."
L carefully pried the stake from Light's weakening hands, wincing as it grazed his chest. "Light-kun, I'm sorry you're in pain."
Light felt another wave of violent sickness move within him. His eyes burned with tears that wouldn't fall. "I hate you. I hate you, L. But I can't kill you."
"So I see." L's fingers brushed the front of his pants, and Light gasped. "Use this instead," said L, rubbing him gently.
"What?"
"If you're so intent on staking me to the floor, you have a perfectly good weapon right here." He stroked Light's length. "Take out your anger that way, like you used to."
Light nodded. It would help. He wanted to fuck L into the ground. He was already growing stiff beneath L's touches before his pants were down around his knees. He pulled L's jeans off and tossed them aside. L was fully hard, and Light wondered if the vampire got off on being threatened and challenged. It made sense; it was the same power struggle that aroused Light. But L did not struggle here. His slender thighs fell open, exposing his most private places. It had been ages since Light had been able to top, though secretly he still considered it his rightful position. L kissed his chest as Light leaned over him, but Light would spare no such affectionate gestures on L. He didn't even bother teasing and stretching him, he just forced his way in. It was clear from L's face he was not immune to pain. He'd missed it so much, ramming into L's tight little ass, watching him all open and helpless and trapped, even if it was just an illusion of helplessness. Why was L letting him do this? It didn't matter. L looked so pretty on his back with his legs in the air, lowly moaning Light's name through ragged breaths. In fact, maybe this was the only situation where Light really found him attractive. He fucked him deep and rough, knowing L would let him, that L would take it, that L was still stronger than he was by several orders of magnitude. Fuck you, L, fuck you for what you did to me.
"Aah -- nf, Kira..." L cried after a particularly deep thrust, and Light felt himself gaining strength. Yes, he was Kira. He was still L's eternal rival -- nobody's pet, nobody's bitch, nobody's prisoner. Suddenly it was not so hard to hold L down, those skinny wrists crushed into the carpet, tight white thighs giving way to his fury.
"I want you to feel this pain," Light gasped. "You spoiled creature. You don't remember pain, do you?"
L winced and writhed beneath him. He'd certainly remember it now. Strangely enough, Light's pain had disappeared. Even the constant hunger had abated, satiated, perhaps, by ravaging the one who'd dared to tame him. He pulled at L's hair and L didn't fight it. L wasn't fighting at all. Peeling L's shirt back, he saw the dark red dent where his wooden stake had broken the skin of the vampire's chest. He licked at it -- a healing gesture, or a veiled threat? -- and L moaned. Before Light knew what he was doing, his teeth were in L's neck. He savored the tight inaudible pop and the first swell of flavor on his tongue as he pierced his throat. L's ass tightened around Light's cock as his body tensed with shock. The taste filling Light's mouth was dark and bitter, and viscous, not at all like true blood. His own tasted much better, and that thought itself made him shudder. But he sucked fiercely, determined to put L in his place, to remind him of what Light suffered every day.
"Light-kun..." L whispered. Why was he whispering? He was so thin and pale and cool, a dead thing, and a pathetic one at that, now. It was luck alone that had handed victory to L, and not to Kira. Sheer luck. In a game of skill, Kira reigned supreme. Light truly believed that as he sucked L's ancient, bitter blood and pounded his ass with the righteous wrath of the wronged. That this was how it was meant to be. Whatever he became, he wouldn't be L's minion, not now, not ever. He was far too strong for that. What had seemed like a cursed fate minutes ago now seemed like an incredible gift. With L's powers, think what he could accomplish! L hadn't expected him to rebel and threaten him. L, he realized, couldn't actually control him at all. He could be stronger than L -- no, he was stronger from the start. He hadn't lost the duel; he'd just given up too soon.
"Light-kun! Light --" L's cries momentarily interrupted Light's power trip, only to refuel it when L came hard, spilling onto his own stomach and smearing stickily across Light's as they rubbed together. Light could not repress his smirk. He'd been victorious here as well, and the thought only aroused him more. He released his grip on the vampire's bleeding throat to focus full attention on the speed of his thrusts deep into L's ass. His rhythm was merciless, as it should be. L thought he was showing him mercy by keeping him at his side. But there was no place for mercy between L and Kira. As he approached his own climax, all thoughts fell away. He groaned and shuddered and emptied himself inside his enemy, his lover -- not his master, never that -- and sat up panting, gazing down at the thin body splayed beneath him. L stared back through tired eyes. The bite mark on his neck was imperfect and suction-bruised. The sight of it made Light want to see his teeth in a mirror
"As usual, Light Yagami gets what he wants," said L, fingering the wound. "I thought you might do that. I hope you're happy."
Light's eyes widened. "Do you mean I --"
"Not right away. But now since you've done that, I can't slow or postpone it any longer. The next time you get sick now -- and you will, soon -- you won't get better. And then, when you wake up, you'll be the same as me."
"Equal to you."
L rose to his feet. "Light-kun presumes too much. Equality was not implied."
"Perhaps I'll be stronger then."
L raised a very faint eyebrow. "Unlikely."
"Surely you suspected I might bite you, when you offered to let me top. Given recent events."
L nodded. "I really didn't want to do it yet, but I suppose it's just as well. Servitude is against Light-kun's nature. To keep you in a half-human state indefinitely...well. As much as you enjoy seeing me suffer, I really can't say I share same the sentiment towards you."
"I don't enjoy your suffering," said Light. "I just happen to believe in justice."
L smiled. "You'll never change."
Light shook his head. "I tried so hard to kill you before, with the Death Note. But if I had the means to do that now, I wouldn't. I couldn't. I'm bound to you now."
"I know. And you always will be. Even if you claim to hate me --"
"I don't hate you, Ryuuzaki."
L's hand touched his softly. "I know, Light-kun."
They kissed. Neither knew which of them had initiated it; the kiss was equilibrium.
"However," L added when their lips had parted, "that doesn't mean you don't enjoy my suffering."
"Maybe a little," said Light with a smirk.
"Light-kun should know better by now than to question my conclusions." Taking Light's hand, L pointed towards the window. "Look, it's quite dark now. Let's go out."
"Yes. Let's."
*
~Fin~