Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ Going to Marrakesh ❯ Sick ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Sick
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He knows in a detached sort of way that this can't possibly be healthy, isn't at all healthy, and that it's taking its toll on him, weeks in a cell and weeks in an almost-prison and weeks of unrest, so he's not really surprised when he catches a cold and winds up spending the day sleeping in his chair and only waking up at the quiet ruckus that ensues when the detectives depart for the evening, watching through slit eyes as they pack up and tiptoe away.

The world is only normal when they're around, and once they've left, he groggily staggers to his feet and lets L drag him to the bathroom, flinching under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights.

"I look like you," he states flatly once he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and stays still as L unlocks the cuffs long enough for them to peel out of their shirts and drop them on the floor, and it's a measure of how exhausted he is that he doesn't pick them up, fold them properly, and place them on the sink. That doesn't mean he's not annoyed by the messiness of it all, and as he's struggling out of his pants, he nearly trips himself into L, who neatly steps backwards to avoid his flailing. When he finishes wobbling, he glares. "And you could've caught me, you bastard."

"Yes," L agrees, and if he were feeling better, he would punch him in the face. But he's not, and L is awfully far away, and the thought of a shower is very appealing right now, as he has the vaguely horrified notion that he has begun to smell. So he straightens himself, resolves not to look at him, and marches his way into the shower stall and cranks the heat up as high as he can.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he has the hazy thought that being naked in front of L isn't as weird as it should be, but he's too tired to analyze the feeling in depth, because it's warm and he's starting to feel a little more human, and if he doesn't watch himself, he'll fall asleep and drown himself accidentally, which would be kind of amusing in a morbid sort of way. His father would be mortified, but then again, if he's not used to that by now, he never will be. Light has long since resigned himself to the fact that there is absolutely no way to keep one's dignity when handcuffed to another man, and the fact that he's standing here in the shower while being stared at is just another example thereof.

Prisoner, prisoner, prisoner, this is you they humiliate them, but it's not working, and it won't work, did you think this would break me? Of course not, of course not, of course not, we both know better, don't we?

Light tilts his head back and closes his eyes as shampoo runs down his face. It stings at his eyes, but the burn makes him smile, because everything is useless but the case, because the world has gotten so small but maybe that's just the way it always was, because he's felt this way before, languid and restless and sleepy, but at least now there's something to work for, at least now he has a reason to be alive.

I'm beautiful and I'm brilliant and you and I both know it - but I'll play your game, because this is fun.

Flushed and dripping, he steps out of the stall and wraps himself in the fluffy towel that's been waiting, and leans against the sink, watching through half-lidded eyes and L kicks off jeans and boxers and shuffles his way into the shower. It's sort of surreal, and sort of insane, and not for the first time, he wonders where the hell L came from. He knows he'll never get an answer, and doesn't really want to know, but from the crumpled clothes on the floor, he's just another college student, lazy and selfish and inconsiderate and boringly normal.

The thought makes him snicker, and then it makes him laugh, and then he shuts up because his head hurts and now L is leaning in and staring at him, which is especially disconcerting because that means he's dripping on his feet, and L likes the water cold, cold as his fingertips against his forehead and the small, delicate frown on his lips.

"You have a fever, Light-kun," he says, and then plucks his hand away and turns to vigorously wash it, like they aren't both still damp from their shower, like he's been contaminated and needs to be disinfected before he can use that hand again.

Light narrows his eyes, leans over, and coughs directly into his ear. It's almost worth the towel L throws in his face, and later, sleepy and satisfied, he spreads it out over his pillow and closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, only stirring again when L kicks him in the side to make room for more papers, piling up by his elbows and propped against his knee.

He drowses, and then he dreams, and wakes up trembling and cold, desperately wondering why he can't remember what happened to Naomi Misora. The papers are still there, and L is still there, and thanks to the goddamned air conditioning, the world is freezing.

I don't want to die, he thinks in an abstract sort of way, and shivers in the quiet, turning to look at L, crouched in a chair beside the bed and staring at his computer like it has all the answers to their mystery locked inside of it. Something like quiet dread creeps up his spine as he stares at him, too pale and too still in the dimness. I don't want to die.

L's eyes flicker to him only once, but he holds the gaze for a very long time, breath shallow and cheeks flushed for reasons he doesn't want to examine.

In the morning, he can breathe again, but he struggles through the day with a foggy head, and somewhere along the way, he brushes his fingers against L's wrist and grabs on hard just to feel the pulse beating beneath his fingertips. L smacks his hand away, but the contact is enough to convince him that it's real, at least for that one moment.

When he sits back, the world blurs again into a confusion of soft sound and movement, low voices and careful footfalls and rumpled suits and half-unknotted ties and cream and dark and pale. He's not surprised that it seems to revolve around L.

"...Ryuuzaki."

"Yagami-kun."

"I think I'm going to vomit."

"It had better not be on me."

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