[Death Note]: Thoughts of a Dying Atheist
Title: Thoughts of a Dying Atheist
Fandom: Death Note
Summary: Light believes in nothing. Or, well. Almost nothing. L/Light if you squint.
Light had never believed in an afterlife. Hollow comfort, he thought, just as all gods and religion were. It was what made Ryuk’s words so easy to accept as confirmation. No Hell, no Heaven, no reincarnation, just nothingness for eternity. That made sense to Light. And Light always liked for things to make sense.
When it came down to it, really, Light believed in nothing much, except himself. He was the one person he could count on, and it was safer that way.
Obviously.
Light caught himself on the railing, leaning heavily on the metal structure. He coughed, and his mouth filled with copper; he spat and blood splattered redly on the concrete. This was what failure tasted like, he thought giddily. Like copper. And it grated worst of all that he had done nothing wrong, he had planned everything perfectly, he had made not one mistake- only other people, the other people he had counted on.
The only person you can trust is yourself, and he had forgotten that.
He staggered, straightened, and pushed onward. There was nowhere to go, he knew that, but he refused to just lie down and die at Near’s feet. He was still alive. As long as he was still alive there was a chance-
A chance of what? A miracle? From who?
Light coughed and choked on blood again, had to pause to struggle to breathe. The weight of death bore down and he was afraid, because he didn’t want to die, but they were coming, following, and he had to keep going, dizzy and sick and hurting, god but it hurt. He choked and wasn’t sure if it was on more blood or stifled tears.
Help me!
Stairs loomed before his feet and Light’s foot hit wrong; he fell hard, sliding half down the stairs, vision going white with agony for a moment before it returned. Light moved to push himself up, but finally the blood loss had caught up with him, and he just felt weak. His head fell back and he let his chest heave, sucking in air, seizing up with pain, letting it out in short gasps.
And it was then, finally, that he surrendered.
There was only death. And after death, nothingness. Oblivion, complete oblivion, forever and forever and forever.
He understood wanting (needing) the comfort of faith.
And he found himself staring into eyes like black holes and a face still in judgment.
Not alone.
“I’d think you’d be good at this,” Ryuzaki said, extending a hand down to where Light was sitting on the ice, grimacing.
“I was never really much for winter sports.”
“If you want,” said the detective, sounding utterly serious, “You can hold my hand until you find your balance.”
Light glanced up at him with unamused, narrowed eyes, trying to communicate his lack of appreciation for the sarcasm. “Thank you, but I’ll pass.”
L’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “I mean it,” he said, almost earnestly, if the word ever applied to him, and added, “How am I going to get any skating in if my partner keeps falling over?”
Light blinked, then sighed. And reached up to take Ryuzaki’s hand, the detective’s spider-leg fingers wrapping around his wrist with surprising strength. “There,” said L authoritatively, nearly dragging Light to his feet. “You just need to get the movement. It’s not like running, you can’t think of it that way. It’s like gliding. Or-“ His slight grin was almost impish. “Walking on water.”
Light blinked, and shuddered. He felt as though he were forgetting how to breathe and this was what he chose to remember? He glanced up and L was still there, watching him die, cold, implacable, barely even human-
“Just try it,” Ryuzaki said through a mouthful of cake. “You’ve never had anything like it, I promise.”
“I don’t like sweets,” Light said, crossing his arms. L scoffed.
“Don’t be - mmph - ridiculous. Everyone likes sweets. You don’t have to be contrary around me, Light-kun.”
“Cut that out,” Light said, meaning the name, and added, “And chew with your mouth closed.”
L waved a fork at Light, utterly unconcerned, and had another bite of cake. “Just one,” he said, and this time Light was sure that his mouth was full on purpose. “Just one bite.” With anyone else, Light would have called that voice ‘wheedling.’ That didn’t suit here, though.
But he knew they would never get anywhere if he didn’t let L have his way, and at least this was just something small and not one of his other decisions that didn’t bear arguing - like the ties. Light still didn’t know why Ryuzaki objected so strenuously to his ties. “Fine,” he said, “Just one bite.”
He reached for the fork, but Ryuzaki swatted his hand down with a warning stare, then carved off a generous slice of the rich cake and held it out. Light looked at him, incredulous. “Go on,” said the detective innocently.
Light leaned forward with a sigh and took the fork between his lips. The cake filled his mouth and he couldn’t help a faint smile as he pulled away, noting L’s keen stare. “Mmm,” he said, finally, in concession.
Ryuzaki’s eyebrows rose. “You could have taken the fork,” he said mildly, and then ran his finger through the chocolate sauce around the edge of his plate and sucked it off, making obscenely loud noises.
Light felt himself flush and couldn’t help but want to look away, even if it was the most decent indecent thing that he’d seen in a while.
“Something the matter?” The detective asked, and Light shook his head.
“Nothing at all. I’ll leave you to your cake.”
His heartbeat was staggering. Light was acutely aware of it, suddenly, listening to every wavering beat, unsure as he’d never been unsure, never-
Never?
L looked down at him like an angel, or a demon, or both.
L’s hands worked over his feet, and Light let his head tip back, feeling strangely awkward. His head jerked up, though, when Ryuzaki’s lips brushed the inside of the arch of his bare foot, his breathing hitching. “What’s that for?” Light asked, and the detective looked up at him and smiled. It seemed - sad.
“No reason. Do I need one?”
“It’d be helpful,” Light said, starting to pull away but L’s hands were already back at work, and it felt too good to ask him to stop.
“Not everything has a reason,” L said mildly. “Sometimes things are just - senseless.”
Light laughed, though in his own ears the sound was brittle. “What, like you and me?”
He hadn’t meant it like that, hadn’t at all, but Ryuzaki glanced up at him seeming faintly amused and Light thought for a moment it was his heart that would stop. And neither of them said anything.
And then the call came and L leaned forward and kissed Light’s jaw before standing, his black hair still dripping. “Wait,” Light heard himself say. “Don’t go. This is - nice.”
“So it is,” Ryuzaki said, and then shook his head. “I have to. But I'm not going far. I'm never taking my eyes off you, Light Yagami.”
And his slight smile somehow made it anything but a threat before he was gone, and for the first time Light…doubted.
It was all cold, so cold; and he felt the moment his heart seized and stopped, stabbing pain shooting through his chest, and he would have cried out if he had any breath left to do anything but gurgle blood.
Light’s head fell back and he found himself staring up at L standing over him dying, just as he’d stood over L, and remembered that promise. If anyone could fight nothingness, Light thought dizzily, it would be you.
His eyes dragged down and the dark rose up, the pain fading, and he thought he saw L reaching down, long fingers extended, as though waiting for Light to take his hand so they could skate away. Light’s arm wouldn’t move. His body was already forgetting how to be alive. Please, he begged silently, and wasn’t even sure what he was asking for.
L’s hand reached out, he thought, he thought he saw it sink into his chest like ice and wrap four fingers and a thumb around his still struggling heart as he struggled to see the back of those bottomless black eyes.
I'm never taking my eyes off you. Light Yagami.
The fingers squeezed, and everything stopped.
It was like gliding, or walking on water.
Fandom: Death Note
Summary: Light believes in nothing. Or, well. Almost nothing. L/Light if you squint.
Light had never believed in an afterlife. Hollow comfort, he thought, just as all gods and religion were. It was what made Ryuk’s words so easy to accept as confirmation. No Hell, no Heaven, no reincarnation, just nothingness for eternity. That made sense to Light. And Light always liked for things to make sense.
When it came down to it, really, Light believed in nothing much, except himself. He was the one person he could count on, and it was safer that way.
Obviously.
Light caught himself on the railing, leaning heavily on the metal structure. He coughed, and his mouth filled with copper; he spat and blood splattered redly on the concrete. This was what failure tasted like, he thought giddily. Like copper. And it grated worst of all that he had done nothing wrong, he had planned everything perfectly, he had made not one mistake- only other people, the other people he had counted on.
The only person you can trust is yourself, and he had forgotten that.
He staggered, straightened, and pushed onward. There was nowhere to go, he knew that, but he refused to just lie down and die at Near’s feet. He was still alive. As long as he was still alive there was a chance-
A chance of what? A miracle? From who?
Light coughed and choked on blood again, had to pause to struggle to breathe. The weight of death bore down and he was afraid, because he didn’t want to die, but they were coming, following, and he had to keep going, dizzy and sick and hurting, god but it hurt. He choked and wasn’t sure if it was on more blood or stifled tears.
Help me!
Stairs loomed before his feet and Light’s foot hit wrong; he fell hard, sliding half down the stairs, vision going white with agony for a moment before it returned. Light moved to push himself up, but finally the blood loss had caught up with him, and he just felt weak. His head fell back and he let his chest heave, sucking in air, seizing up with pain, letting it out in short gasps.
And it was then, finally, that he surrendered.
There was only death. And after death, nothingness. Oblivion, complete oblivion, forever and forever and forever.
He understood wanting (needing) the comfort of faith.
And he found himself staring into eyes like black holes and a face still in judgment.
Not alone.
“I’d think you’d be good at this,” Ryuzaki said, extending a hand down to where Light was sitting on the ice, grimacing.
“I was never really much for winter sports.”
“If you want,” said the detective, sounding utterly serious, “You can hold my hand until you find your balance.”
Light glanced up at him with unamused, narrowed eyes, trying to communicate his lack of appreciation for the sarcasm. “Thank you, but I’ll pass.”
L’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “I mean it,” he said, almost earnestly, if the word ever applied to him, and added, “How am I going to get any skating in if my partner keeps falling over?”
Light blinked, then sighed. And reached up to take Ryuzaki’s hand, the detective’s spider-leg fingers wrapping around his wrist with surprising strength. “There,” said L authoritatively, nearly dragging Light to his feet. “You just need to get the movement. It’s not like running, you can’t think of it that way. It’s like gliding. Or-“ His slight grin was almost impish. “Walking on water.”
Light blinked, and shuddered. He felt as though he were forgetting how to breathe and this was what he chose to remember? He glanced up and L was still there, watching him die, cold, implacable, barely even human-
“Just try it,” Ryuzaki said through a mouthful of cake. “You’ve never had anything like it, I promise.”
“I don’t like sweets,” Light said, crossing his arms. L scoffed.
“Don’t be - mmph - ridiculous. Everyone likes sweets. You don’t have to be contrary around me, Light-kun.”
“Cut that out,” Light said, meaning the name, and added, “And chew with your mouth closed.”
L waved a fork at Light, utterly unconcerned, and had another bite of cake. “Just one,” he said, and this time Light was sure that his mouth was full on purpose. “Just one bite.” With anyone else, Light would have called that voice ‘wheedling.’ That didn’t suit here, though.
But he knew they would never get anywhere if he didn’t let L have his way, and at least this was just something small and not one of his other decisions that didn’t bear arguing - like the ties. Light still didn’t know why Ryuzaki objected so strenuously to his ties. “Fine,” he said, “Just one bite.”
He reached for the fork, but Ryuzaki swatted his hand down with a warning stare, then carved off a generous slice of the rich cake and held it out. Light looked at him, incredulous. “Go on,” said the detective innocently.
Light leaned forward with a sigh and took the fork between his lips. The cake filled his mouth and he couldn’t help a faint smile as he pulled away, noting L’s keen stare. “Mmm,” he said, finally, in concession.
Ryuzaki’s eyebrows rose. “You could have taken the fork,” he said mildly, and then ran his finger through the chocolate sauce around the edge of his plate and sucked it off, making obscenely loud noises.
Light felt himself flush and couldn’t help but want to look away, even if it was the most decent indecent thing that he’d seen in a while.
“Something the matter?” The detective asked, and Light shook his head.
“Nothing at all. I’ll leave you to your cake.”
His heartbeat was staggering. Light was acutely aware of it, suddenly, listening to every wavering beat, unsure as he’d never been unsure, never-
Never?
L looked down at him like an angel, or a demon, or both.
L’s hands worked over his feet, and Light let his head tip back, feeling strangely awkward. His head jerked up, though, when Ryuzaki’s lips brushed the inside of the arch of his bare foot, his breathing hitching. “What’s that for?” Light asked, and the detective looked up at him and smiled. It seemed - sad.
“No reason. Do I need one?”
“It’d be helpful,” Light said, starting to pull away but L’s hands were already back at work, and it felt too good to ask him to stop.
“Not everything has a reason,” L said mildly. “Sometimes things are just - senseless.”
Light laughed, though in his own ears the sound was brittle. “What, like you and me?”
He hadn’t meant it like that, hadn’t at all, but Ryuzaki glanced up at him seeming faintly amused and Light thought for a moment it was his heart that would stop. And neither of them said anything.
And then the call came and L leaned forward and kissed Light’s jaw before standing, his black hair still dripping. “Wait,” Light heard himself say. “Don’t go. This is - nice.”
“So it is,” Ryuzaki said, and then shook his head. “I have to. But I'm not going far. I'm never taking my eyes off you, Light Yagami.”
And his slight smile somehow made it anything but a threat before he was gone, and for the first time Light…doubted.
It was all cold, so cold; and he felt the moment his heart seized and stopped, stabbing pain shooting through his chest, and he would have cried out if he had any breath left to do anything but gurgle blood.
Light’s head fell back and he found himself staring up at L standing over him dying, just as he’d stood over L, and remembered that promise. If anyone could fight nothingness, Light thought dizzily, it would be you.
His eyes dragged down and the dark rose up, the pain fading, and he thought he saw L reaching down, long fingers extended, as though waiting for Light to take his hand so they could skate away. Light’s arm wouldn’t move. His body was already forgetting how to be alive. Please, he begged silently, and wasn’t even sure what he was asking for.
L’s hand reached out, he thought, he thought he saw it sink into his chest like ice and wrap four fingers and a thumb around his still struggling heart as he struggled to see the back of those bottomless black eyes.
I'm never taking my eyes off you. Light Yagami.
The fingers squeezed, and everything stopped.
It was like gliding, or walking on water.