August 9, 2007

Light glanced at the little clock at the bottom of his screen for the umpteenth time before whirling round in his chair, the long chain of his handcuff dragging across the floor. The elevator was still set on the twentieth floor of the building, the only floor that had to be accessed by a code. Whether L had done that for his partner's or his own safety, Light could only guess. The fact remained, the pair had gone up to that floor together after C had started to complain about a headache, further reaffirming his suspicions about them. 

Watari was right here, thought Light. L could've just asked him to take C up and make sure she got something for the pain, but he insisted on doing it himself. He seemed almost worried when she mentioned the headache. 

"Watari, do you think everything is all right with Miss C?"

The manservant, who stood with his back to the room at the refreshment table, gave a curt hum in response. "Ryuzaki has it taken care of, I'm sure."

Light hadn't expected a straight answer, but he still got what he needed. He prided himself on being a keen observer, and Watari's terse body language and bitter tone spoke louder than words ever could. The butler clearly didn't approve of whatever was going on between L and the red-haired young woman he'd spirited away.

"You don't believe another ghost is trying to take over, do you, Light?"

He turned his head to face Matsuda, the only other person in the room aside from Watari. Half-hidden on the couch behind a stack of police files, Matsuda looked at Light with a fearful gaze, completely unbefitting an officer of the NPA. How the naïve gumshoe had ever made it past the exams was beyond the Chief Inspector's son.

"No, that was different," he answered, crossing his arms and mentally cursing at the chain and cuff binding him to the desk. "C was in a hospital when that happened. People die there every second of every day, so that's the most hostile environment for her."

"But can't ghosts like... travel?" questioned Matsuda. "What if one followed her here? What if they're evil and are trying to possess her again?"

"I think we would've noticed if a malignant spirit was in the tower, Matsuda. Remember how C told us how to detect those? Sudden extreme temperature drops, technical equipment giving out completely, objects moving on their own to hurt us."

"Yeah, I know, but —"

"Look," Light interrupted rudely, not having the patience to deal with Matsuda right now, "if you're really that worried, just grab some salt and —"

The elevator gave an unexpected ding. Light's brown eyes tore away from the rookie detective and he nearly jumped from his seat when L stumbled out, his white shirt stained with blood spatters on the left shoulder.

"Sir!" exclaimed Watari, rushing over to him. 

L pushed his servant aside and made his way over to the computer, nearly colliding against his chair and the desk. Watari again tried to get his employer's attention. "Sir, please, what happened?"

But L's fingers never stopped their frantic tapping. Light stared in aghast silence, trying to determine any other injuries L might have. Could Matsuda have been right, after all? Had another ghost possessed C? Has she attacked him?
He glanced up at the screens flickering from one to another at an impossible pace until they revealed... the garage? Was this a direct feed from the security camera? The image rewound. L leaned in, eyes wide, searching. Then the recording paused, a distorted frame showing C as she climbed into the same car she took with Light when they went to the morgue two weeks ago. 

"Sir..." Watari seemed as transfixed as L, horror spreading across his usually composed expression.

"I know," said L. "We have to hurry."

"Hey, wait a minute." Light hurriedly grabbed L's arm. "What the heck's going on? Where did C go?"

"I'll explain everything when we return, but I must insist you let go. Lives are at stake."

"Lives? What are you — hey, Ryuzaki!"

But both L and Watari were already sprinting to the elevator. Before the doors closed, L called out, "Matsuda, watch Light and Misa, and get the others back here asap!"

The order shook Matsuda out of his stupor, as the young man nearly lunged for his phone, knocking the entire stack of police files to the ground. Light ignored his antics and instead directed his attention back to the screen. He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the still frame. Had Matsuda not been in the room, he would've zoomed in to make certain, but from the look of it, the woman on the screen wasn't C or Cassia. Not anymore. Not with those eyes shimmering so dangerously  in the darkness.

📓💀📓

The car came to a screeching stop in front of the hospital. L jumped out before Watari could properly shut the engine off and ran through the glass doors, the sneakers he'd hastily put on in the car skidding over the floor. He darted to the staircase, not wanting to lose another second by waiting for the damn elevator, and started climbing. By the time his phone rang, he was already on the third floor. 

"Watari," answered L. "What did security say?"

"Power outage on the fourth floor," said the butler. "Back-up generators are already taking over for the machines, but no success on the lights or heating."

"I'm close. Keep everyone away."

"Yes, sir. Sir... be careful."

L pocketed his phone in his jeans and continued to sprint up, taking three steps at a time. When he pushed the door open, an impossibly cold air brutally hitting his body. Nurses ran in and out of rooms further ahead, their flashlights dancing in the obscure hallway, but L didn't meet them.
Instead, he turned towards the blackness, listening carefully for that hair-raising sing-song voice. His heart pounded in his chest, his blood rushing through his veins with every thud, with every careful step. A sudden breeze struck him, prompting him to a stop.

"It's been a long time, Mercy," L dared. 

An unholy, vile feminine chuckle erupted from the darkness, causing a shiver to run down his spine. "It has, hasn't it, sweetling?"

Every nerve in L's body was instantly on high alert. He'd known it would only be a matter of time before he would hear that nickname again, but the past four years had almost made him believe the impossible. He'd dropped his guard. What a fool he'd been.

"Still scared of me, I see." 

Mercy's bell-like, eerie voice shook L from his angst. He took a fortifying breath, trying his best to ignore the stinging cold piercing his lungs, and said, "I'm not."

"Liar," she chided.

"Takes one to know one."

Another chuckle. "Mmm, you've certainly put on your big-boy pants since last we spoke. I still remember how you used to cower before me."

"A lot has happened since then."

"It most certainly has. Yet here we are. The mortal versus the goddess, round two. Are you sure you want to walk this road again, sweetling?" 

"Are you?"

A pair of golden eyes with slitted sanguine pupils lit up in the darkness as a shape took form before L. He stood his ground as Mercy's features sharpened. Cassandra's skin, usually smooth and unblemished like porcelain, was taken over by dark tendrils creeping up from her feet, snaking around her limbs like ivy climbing a wall. Her hands, those delicate artist hands L secretly adored so much, bore monstrous claws at each finger. And that grin. That vile grin that pulled Cassandra's sweet, full lips into something so unholy, a priest would cross himself at the very sight. 

"Naw, what's the matter, sweetling?" Mercy mocked L, her venom lacing Cassandra's voice. "That upset to see me? You didn't truly believe you could keep me from freeing poor, unfortunate souls and providing for my kin, did you?"

L started. Did she mean...? No, they'd been so careful! They'd monitored every single hospital and asylum in a hundred-mile radius around Wammy's. Nothing like what had happened at the Glass House had happened again. Roger and Watari would've known. He would've known.

"Oh, sweetling, no, how could you possibly have known?" remarked Mercy, having read his mind and anxious expression. "Always away from darling Cassandra. Always on yet another case in yet another city, another country, another continent. Tell me, L; was it truly so easy for you to break your promise?"

His promise... 

"You're right," spoke L, his voice quivering slightly in guilt and shame. "I've been careless. Allow me to rectify that mistake by warning you now."

Mercy's eyes narrowed, the golden irises glowing dangerously. "Warning me? Sweetling, you know I don't take kindly to threats."

"The threat doesn't come from me, but from someone I believe to be a killer worse than you. If you've been lurking from within Cassandra, following C's investigation, you know who I'm talking about."

"Hm, yes. The Yagami boy. What of him?"

"He's like me in many ways. When something gets his attention, he's determined to learn all he can about it. And right now, you are the object of his attention."

"I fail to see how that makes him a threat. Like you, he's a mere mortal. There's nothing he can do to me."

"But he can do everything to Cassandra."

Finally, the faintest hint of trepidation crossed Mercy's features. Her lips parted, yet before she could speak, L hurriedly continued, determination and a desire to protect adding gravity to his words. 

"At the moment," he said, "Light Yagami appears sincere when claiming he isn't the killer known as Kira. He is either a great actor or I'm horribly wrong in my deduction. In any case, Light poses a threat in his capacity as an investigator. If he somehow learns of Cassandra's involvement in the Glass House deaths, he won't stop until she's put to justice. He has a profound sense of it, and he will either ensure she's locked away forever... or worse." 

L paused a moment. Mercy's scrutinizing gaze was still firmly locked with his. He had her full attention, so it all came down to his next words. "I don't know how Kira kills. If Light Yagami is Kira, I won't be able to stop him from killing Cassandra. You're an immortal, true enough, but you still inhabit a mortal woman's body. What will happen to you if your vessel dies?"

Perhaps for the first time since meeting Mercy, L believed to perceive a sliver of fear in those predatory eyes. It looked like C had been right after all — Mercy's very existence depended on Cassandra. 

"Don't give Light Yagami any further cause to suspect anything is amiss," said L. "C can hold her own against him, but you know Cassandra can't. He's a charming young man and has a way with words. He'll make her feel at ease until she inadvertently reveals what he needs to know. The smallest detail can already be too much. If he learns about you, even I won't be able to protect her."

L stopped there, needing his words to truly sink in. He still didn't understand what Mercy was, but from his endless research, he'd grasped one undeniable truth — everything had a weakness. And he'd just made Mercy face hers. 

The lights flickered overhead. The shadows and darkness receded, shrinking back to their mistress. Mercy's marks on Cassandra's faded, like snow melting in the sun. Her eyelids fluttered, and L sprang forward just as the redhead collapsed. He caught her in his arms, quickly picking her up to carry her down, the nurses none the wiser either of them was ever in the corridor.
It wasn't until he sat in the back of the car ten minutes later that L dared to breathe again. Watari urged him to join him in the front, but L adamantly refused and held Cassandra closer, rocking her in his lap, warming her body with his own. He couldn't bear to part with her. Not now.

Mercy's sudden, silent departure worried the detective. She'd given no assurances, nothing to give L some measure of peace about Cassandra's safety. He couldn't just assume she would let matters rest. Making assumptions about Mercy had already led him to be careless. 
No, if he truly wanted to uphold his promise — or whatever remained of it — and protect Cassandra, he had to do what he came here to do. One way or another, he had to prove Light Yagami was Kira. And when he finally brought that criminal to justice, he'd return to England and make everything right with Cassandra. Even if that meant doing the unthinkable.

📓💀📓

The headlights of the car illuminated the dim underground garage. Light squinted, trying to make out who'd returned first. When the lights and engine shut, the distinct click of two doors opening one right after the other followed. He pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning against when Watari walked round to take an unconscious C out of L's arms.

"What happened?" asked Light. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," answered L curtly, beckoning Watari to hand C back to him after getting out. "I'll stay with her, Watari. Please bring my laptop and some refreshments to the room. And the first aid kit."

The butler gave an almost inaudible sigh and a tired nod. He left for the service elevator while L walked to the main one, passing Light without barely acknowledging him or his father, who'd already pushed the button to go up. He didn't even remark Chief Yagami had uncuffed Light, going against his explicit orders. That alone was enough for Light to know something was terribly wrong.

"Hey, Ryuzaki, wait a minute!" He hurried after him and stopped the elevator from closing. "You can't just take off the way you did and then come back with C like this. You owe us an explanation."

The raven-haired detective met his insistent gaze and said, "I will speak to everyone in the morning. Please let go of the door."

"No, not until you tell us the truth."

"Son." Soichiro put a hand on Light's shoulder. "Let him take Miss C up. It's clear she's been through a lot."

"But Dad —"

"Light, stand down. Now."

Rarely did Light's father scold him in such a manner. Why would he? He was a dutiful son, a straight-A student, and caused no problems at home. But as Light peered into his father's eyes, he realized Soichiro hadn't addressed him as a parent, but as his superior officer. That was something even Light couldn't ignore. 
Silently, he fell back, clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth in frustration. L shot the Chief Inspector a grateful look as the elevator door finally closed. When the red digits above started ascending, Light shrugged his father's hand off his shoulder and turned on his heels to face him. 

"Why did you do that?" he demanded with a snarl. "Why would you just let him leave like that?"

"It does nobody any good to have that type of conversation here and now," said Soichiro, "when it's clear Miss C needs rest and Ryuzaki needs to let Watari treat his head wound."

"They're hiding something, Dad. Something important that could jeopardize the entire Kira investigation."

"I know. And I'll personally see to it we get answers in the morning, Light. You have my word. Please, just... not tonight."

Soichiro let out his breath and took his glasses off to rub his eyes. A strand of graying hair fell forward. Not for the first time since they'd started living at HQ did Light notice how much his father had aged in such a short time. This entire case was eating at him. He probably wasn't making it any easier on his father by behaving the way he did. 
Still, Light had no intention of letting this go. If his father insisted on waiting until tomorrow, there was only one person who could help him now. But he had to act fast. 

📓💀📓

The door opened not five seconds after knocking on it. Light quickly covered Misa's mouth with his hand and pushed her inside to close the door behind him. Her big eyes widened further when he pinned her to the corner directly beneath the camera. 

"Don't scream," urged Light. She nodded, and he let go. "I'm sorry, but I don't have a lot of time, Misa. I don't know when Watari and Ryuzaki will check up on me again, and my father thinks I forgot something downstairs." 

"Oh, Light, dearest, I don't mind," she said. "Even if it's just a second, it means so much you'd come to see me."

She wrapped her arms around Light's neck. Alarmed, he quickly placed his hands at her hips to keep her at a distance. "Misa, no, that's not why I'm here."

"Huh? Then what —?"

"I need to know what you learned about Cassia and Ryuzaki."

She drew back with a scoff and crossed her arms over her chest. He mentally rolled his eyes at her reaction and his own mistake. How could he have forgotten he was dealing with an obnoxious, lovesick brat? 

"I'm really sorry, sweetheart," he said, almost gagging at using that pet name. "But something bad happened. Something that could endanger you. I want to protect you, Misa, but I can only do that if you tell me what you know."

The blonde's annoyance turned into instant adoration. "Oh, Light, that is the sweetest thing you've ever said to me. Okay, well, you know I went out with Cassia a few days ago. We ended up spending some time in this little coffee shop, 'cause she can't handle crowds very well. She told me how she got into art, and how she loves to read and bake, and um... oh, she's an orphan like me! Can you believe that? I really feel like she could be the best friend I ever had."

Light stared at her gleeful expression in disbelief. "That's it? That's all you found out? Misa, that doesn't help me at all! God, why did I think you could even do this? You're completely useless!"

Light grunted and ran a hand through his hair, turning away from the stupid girl. He should never have trusted Misa with this. If he wanted to learn Cassia and L's secrets, he'd have to figure it out on his own. But how?

"I'm sorry, Light," murmured Misa behind him. "You're right. You asked for my help, and I just disappointed you. But don't worry, I'll do better next time. Trust me, the last thing I want is for us to have a loveless marriage like Cassia and L."

"Misa, we're not... wait, what did you just say?" 

"That... I'll do better next time?"

"No, the bit after that. About Cassia and L?"

"Oh, about their marriage? Yeah, don't you think that's so sad? From the little Cassia told me, he doesn't pay her any attention. I mean, they've been married for five or four years, I don't really remember, and he barely spends time with her! He's always gone on those stupid cases, leaving her all alone at home. What kind of husband does that?"

She ranted on about the injustice and the audacity, but Light had already zoned her nagging voice out as the harrowing revelation struck him hard. Married. They were married! How could L not tell them he and Cassia were husband and wife? And what of C? She'd told him she hadn't been with anyone. Had she just straight out lied to gain his trust? 

I believed her. I actually thought she... Dammit, I'm such a fool! 

Without saying another word to Misa, Light left her room. His anger and indignation festered and itched beneath his skin. He felt like screaming, like throwing a punch, like destroying every inch of this goddamn place.
Light's vision blurred red. He rushed into the open storage room beside the elevator and slammed the door shut. With one hand, he swept everything off the nearest rack, sending the office supplies crashing to the floor. He kicked a few empty boxes in, then sank against the door, panting heavily from the exertion. 
Yet as much as Light wanted his rage to be against L and C, most of it was against himself. Because he hadn't seen it. He'd failed to see the signs, the deception taking place right underneath his nose. 

L, that bastard. Light's jaw clenched at the thought of the man. He's played us all, even his own wife. He's just using Cassia, exploiting her disability to solve his cases. Why would she even let him do this if they don't —

Light stiffened. Wait, of course. Nothing was ever personal with L; Light was absolutely certain of that, at least. The only reason L would even consider tying the knot with someone like Cassia was if she'd been involved in something.
He pinched his brow, trying to recall the conversation with C from the car ride. She'd told him L had questioned Cassia as a witness. Had that been the truth? No, Light couldn't count on that. He had to consider all possibilities. Cassia could've been a witness, a potential victim... or possibly even...

Would he really do that? Would L just throw away everything he's done, everything he stands for... to harbor a criminal? No, that can't be it. I'm overthinking this. But... what if...?

Light took a deep breath and picked himself up. Whatever L's motives for his marriage to Cassia, it could all be traced back five years to a case in London. That's where he would start.