There and Back Again

A/N: So, yeah, notes before the story this time. I know this update is a bit shorter than I planned...actually, I'd planned for this to be an epilouge of sorts. But, after sitting down and outlining the rest of the story, I realized it would take at least one more chapter before I was ready to end this. I'm still not 100 percent certain, but I think this story will be, at the very least 13 chapters...give or take. Hee hee...13. Anyway O.O....please enjoy and thank you all so much for reviewing and letting me know how you like it. It seems I even made a few people cry last chapter. Good. Cause I didn't want to be the only one.

********

November 24, 2005

He hadn’t slept, which was nothing new really, but his insomnia was the only thing he could think of that was causing his lack of coordination. He kept thinking, if Light were here, he would have made him help, but if Light were still here, he wouldn’t be struggling with the damn necktie in the first place.

“Fuck all!” L yelled and flung the offending strip of material to the floor. He closed his eyes against yet another set of forming tears and stomped over to their, no his, bed. There he was, almost crying, wearing the most uncomfortable clothes he’d ever had the misfortune to own, throwing a necktie around like a child. He even had socks on for Christ sake! He hadn’t yet summoned the nerve to put on the pair of shiny, evil looking, dress shoes Quillish had given him.

A soft tapping at the door pulled him away from his pouting.

“Yes? What is it?” he said to the closed door.

“L,” came the muffled reply. “It’s Alta. Can I come in?”

“Fine.”

She opened the door to find exactly what she’d expected, a frustrated, sulking L, shoe-less with a necktie on the floor. She walked over and retrieved the crumpled strip of cloth.

“Stand up and come over here,” she said.

“I don’t want to wear it.”

“I know you don’t,” she said as she threaded it under his collar. “Ever didn’t either. That’s why he has a clip on. Why don’t you? It’d be easier.”

L scowled. “I don’t have one because I’m not four, and he never wore clip-ons.”

She paused before continuing her work. “Is this one of his?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“He’s probably happy about that. There,” she pushed the knot into place. “All done.”

L mumbled a small thank you as he gently fingered the knot. “When did you learn . . .?”

“Oh, didn’t you know? In between learning how to hack police data bases and speak almost every language known to man, all the young girls of Wammy House are taught to be well brought up ladies. Evidently, knowing how to tie a necktie is par for the course in gentility. I used to make Beyond let me practice on him.”

“I’m sure he enjoyed that.” Sarcasm is a wonderful thing, L thought.

“Every second of it. Now get your shoes on. We’ll be late.”

L sighed and slipped the shoes onto his feet. Socks and shoes, neckties and suits. The things I do for you, Light.

“Have you told his family?”

He glanced at her and then the floor.

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

“His mother and sister already believed him dead. I will be informing his father.”

“You’re not going to tell him over the phone, are you?”

L cocked his head to one side. “I’d have to be a pretty cold-hearted bastard to do that, wouldn’t I? And why are you going through the wardrobe?”

Alta paused before pulling a shirt from the wardrobe then stood up and faced L.

“Ever . . . well, he wanted one. Is it alright?”

L thought for a moment before answering. “Yes, just not the red one.”

She walked over to him and straightened his already crooked tie. “Don’t fiddle with it so much, L.” She turned to leave only to feel her arm pulled. She looked at L’s hand round her wrist.

“L?”

It was so quiet He just stood there in silence. She couldn’t bear the silence.

“L?” she asked again. She heard him draw a shaky breath.

“Does this ever go away?” he whispered.

“No, L. It doesn’t.”

“I knew it would hurt. I knew I would miss him. I didn’t know it would . . . I didn’t know how alone I was until he was gone.”

“You’re not alone, L. Never alone.”

Alta had prepared for Light’s death. She’d expected it, she knew when it would happen. She knew L had prepared for it as best he could. What she could never have prepared for was the three best detectives in the world holding her like she was the only thing keeping him afloat. She’d never expected to see L cry, not ever. This emotionless man was now brimming with emotion and there was nothing anyone could do to staunch the flow of his tears.

**

L didn’t register any of it. If anyone had asked what had happened in the church, or what was said, he wouldn’t have been able to answer the questions. All he knew was that Near wasn’t there, Mello was whispering and pushing rosary beads, Matt was openly crying, and he was numb. He felt he was wandering in a daze for the duration of the ceremony. The sudden tolling of bells as they made their way back to Wammy House made him stiffen in alarm, maybe even fear. He sat in the vehicle, taut and tense, until he felt something small and warm slide into his hand. He looked down and saw Ever’s own hand in his. He just looked at the boy, who didn’t look back. He simply sat and held L’s hand.

Ever.

L supposed that if he needed a reason to stay alive, Ever was a good one.

********

January 12, 2006

“This is horseshit!” Mello exclaimed.

Roger simply gazed dispassionately at the over excited teen while Quillish glanced sharply at him.

“Language, Mello.”

“Fuck language! I’m pissed off! This is the dumbest thing he could have done!”

“This was L’s decision to make and,” Quillish said, “I think it’s the best option.”

“I am not working with Near! Either he’s L or I am, but I won’t be L with him! On top of that, L retiring is fucking stupid!”

“If L decides he needs to step down, then he does.”

“He’s only quitting because he’s depressed. He’ll regret it. I know he will. L doesn’t give up. He’ll be fine. He just needs some time.”

“You sound as though you’re trying to convince yourself.”

Mello examined his hands for a moment.

“Maybe I am,” he whispered. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong. How can he just quit? How does he know we’re ready?”

“He wouldn’t let you assume the title if he didn’t believe you couldn’t handle the responsibility,” Roger said.

“FUCK!” Mello shouted before storming from the office and making his way to his room.

He kicked his bedroom door with such ferocity the lower hinge broke and Matt actually jumped from his bed, his game forgotten.

“What the hell, Mello?”

Mello glared at the splintered doorframe until he sensed a pair of eyes boring into his skull. He turned slowly to see that ghost, Near, his nemesis, staring at him.

“What do you want?” he snarled.

Near wrapped his finger through a strand of hair before replying. “I take it you’ve been informed then.”

“If you think for one second that I’ll ever work with you . . . you’ll have more to worry about than the occasional black eye.”

Near carefully touched the bruise ringing his left eye.

“I understand,” he said and shuffled slowly down the hall. Mello watched him walk away until his eyes focused on another lone figure in the corridor . . . L. Mello narrowed his eyes and made a noise in the back of his throat that Matt swore was a growl.

“Mello.”

“L . . . I have nothing to say to you.”

“Oh, I imagine you have a great many things to say to me. I know you’re disappointed with my decision.”

“Disappointed? Disappointed? The word isn’t even close to what I’m feeling! I can’t work with Near, I won’t! I’ll kill him first.”

“That is why you must learn to work with him. You have always had a temper, but your inclination towards violence has increased exponentially since. . .” L couldn’t say the words required to finish his sentence.

“Since Light died,” Mello said for him.

“Yes.”

“Near deserves every beating, after what he said.”

“Which was what exactly?”

“He didn’t go to the funeral. When I asked him why, he said he refused to mourn Kira.”

So, L thought, Near had figured it out. I’d thought as much.

“So you beat him.”

“Of course I did!” Mello said, exasperated. “Light may not have been my favorite person, but you loved him. He was no killer. He annoyed the shit out of me, but he wasn’t bad.”

L was quiet as he looked at Mello. He stuffed one hand into a pocket and placed the other on Mello’s shoulder. L bent down to look the boy in the eyes.

“But Mello, Light was Kira,” he whispered.

L watched as his eyes grew wide with horror, his skin turning crimson in anger.

“Get the fuck away with me,” he said with eerie calmness before he pushed L with enough force to knock him into the opposite wall. He felt tears welling up, but made no effort to suppress them. “You asshole. You knew! You knew this whole time! He was Kira? Why? Why was he here? Why wasn’t he locked away? L . . . you . . . you’re Justice!”

“No, Mello, I’m not. I’m only L.”

“Then he deserved it. He deserved to die.” Mello turned away and stepped into his room. “He deserved to die and you . . . you deserved to lose him.”

L walked away, intent on pushing this moment from his mind. He didn’t have the heart to tell Mello that he believed it as well.

That night, Mello disappeared from the house. In less then a month, Matt would follow.

That night, L’s dreams began.