End Games

Chapter 31: Thunder

-at an expensive estate in Winchester, England-
The rain beat down hard on the large windows of the veranda. It was raining so fiercely, the wind carried the rain sideways, dousing the windows and creating intricate patterns as the water ran over them. A housekeeper came in and deposited some trays on the ornate mahogany table, where two men sat in silence. The housekeeper smiled and revealed the dishes she'd delivered.
"Enjoy" She said before taking off.
L stared down at his breakfast of porridge, sausage, and eggs, with indifference. He made no move to touch the food, and instead took a napkin and pressed it to his bloody nose. The chain that tied him to the heavy table rattled in the process.
"Not eating again today, detective L?" Asked Ferraro, digging into his breakfast with gusto.
L sniffled into the napkin and looked at his captor. "I don't eat porridge, eggs, or sausage, and I'm not hungry." He said with a rasp as he pressed the napkin against his nose to absorb the blood. Everything hurt right now. His head was pounding, his body felt heavy, and his muscles ached all over. Even breathing was laborious and at times, painful.
He sat slumped in his chair with both feet on the ground, nursing his injury. He really didn't feel like talking, and much less to Ferraro. However, he'd learned the hard way that in this place, giving the silent treatment was a bad idea.
The napkin on his nose quickly turned red and damp and L was forced to reach for another. As he reached out, his bruised ribs stabbed at him, making L wince. Ferraro swallowed a mouthful of porridge and took notice of the detective struggling.
"Here. Take mine." He said, passing L his own napkin. L took it.
"Thank you" Said L as he sank back into his chair.
Ferraro nodded courtly. "I apologize for the savage way that my agents treated you. I assure you, I had no idea. I only arrived here today to find you looking like that..." He gestured to all of L. The detective had bruised eyes, a cut on his cheek, a broken lip, several other bruises, and perhaps even a few cracked ribs. When Ferraro questioned his agents about L's injuries, they all cited his 'uncooperative' behavior as the reason for the beatings.
"...I was also told that you barely ate anything since you've been here." Said Ferraro. L did not even look at him, his eyes glazed over in misery.
"I'm not hungry." He repeated faintly.
"I see." Said Ferraro, cutting into the sausage.
For some time, the sound of Ferraro's cutlery sliding on his plate was all that could be heard inside the veranda. Eager for a distraction, L studied the patterns left on the windows by the pouring rain. Before long, his thoughts drifted toward Misa and the baby.
The corners of his broken mouth tugged slightly into a faint smile as he recalled all the good times with Misa. He thought back on their first outing to the amusement park and how she'd held his arm as they walked around. They weren't together at the time but he actually had a lot of fun that day. He remembered their first real kiss inside the main investigation room, and how awkward and excited he'd been. He remembered their first dinner together, and how she'd slapped him, only to then chase after him in the elevator lobby. He remembered their first time in bed together, as well as the time he'd told her he loved her on the ferris wheel. He'll never forget the look of adoration on her face that evening. Oh, how he missed that look. And of course, he remembered all the times she'd made him lose his mind over some crazy plan of hers to catch Kira on her own.
'That woman...she never listened.' He thought fondly, his eyes sparking back to life for a split second. L resisted the urge to sigh, for it would hurt his ribs. He hadn't seen Misa in six months, and from the look of things, it would be a lot longer before he saw her again...if ever.
Faint sounds of thunder could be heard in the distance.
'I wonder...' He thought, absently.
His child came to mind, and L was suddenly curious to know if his son had ever heard thunder before. Perhaps he was frightened by it. A lot of children were frightened by the sound of thunder, so it was possible that his son would be too. L exhaled slowly. There was so much that L would have liked to know about his son, like what he looked like, what made him happy, what made him cry, what things caught his attention...
'But now it's too late...I lost them.' He thought, resigned, his eyes losing that temporary spark.
After leaving the U.S., L was told that Misa and the baby were being moved to a high-security facility, where even he couldn't reach them. L didn't know how true that was, but regardless, it wasn't like he could go after them anymore, not with the ICPO at his throat.
Do you know why I'm here?" Asked Ferraro, bringing him out of his reverie.
"No." Replied L.
"Care to take a guess?"
"No."
Ferraro looked at him pointedly. "Fair enough, I'll just tell you. I want to give you another chance." He said. "You're a young lad and like most young lads, you've made mistakes due to dumb inexperience. We've all been there. Sometimes all we need is for life to kick us hard in the gut, but then after that, we get ourselves in check and things go smoothly." Said Ferraro pleasantly, setting his fork and knife down. L regarded him cautiously, wondering exactly what he meant by a 'second chance.'
"So, are you interested in striking a truse?" Asked Ferraro, grinning.
"No." L responded dryly. Ferraro's grin widened.
"Oh? I guess you don't want to see Misa or your child ever again, then."
L knew that Ferraro was just saying that to twist his resolve. Yet, he couldn't suppress the glimmer of hope at the thought of seeing them.
"What do you want?" He asked.
Ferraro smiled and held his hand up. "Woah, not so fast, let's not jump to that so quickly, detective L." He said. "I want us to be friends first."
L narrowed his eyes at the other man. 'Friends? Who does he think I am?'
"Now, now, don't look so skeptic. I'm truly a benevolent man, once you get to know me." Said Ferraro.
"Sure you are, because holding an orphanage hostage is the act of a benevolent man. I believe it." Said L sarcastically. Ferraro's grin disappeared. "Please do tell me, oh-benevolent-one, what's next on your to-do list, pillage a nursery? Or perhaps a hospital? Or-"
"I think I'm starting to see why you earned those bruises." Said Ferraro darkly. A tense silence filled the veranda. Ferraro took a few gulps of his water and pulled something out of his pocket. It was an aluminum flash drive.
"You know what this is?"
L looked at the small device in Ferraro's hand. He'd seen plenty of those in Wammy's House and he could probably guess what was inside that one.
"It's your file from Wammy's House. It was encrypted but thanks to Quillish Wammy's reluctant cooperation, we were able to decipher it."
L tensed ever so slightly. What was Ferraro playing at? L wasn't worried about the contents of his file, for he knew they were limited and obsolete, but he was worried about Watari. He hoped that wherever Ferraro was keeping him, he was being treated decently.
"Well? Aren't you going to comment?" Asked Ferraro, waving the small silver device.
L cocked his head slightly, wondering what he was supposed to say to this. "I hope you found reading about my 8-year-old self a productive use of your time. There's not much in there as you probably already know." Said L with effort.
Ferraro was not amused. "You're right, there isn't, other than the obvious fact that you were an orphan and that you seemed to have some deep behavioral issues as a child. Also, your name is listed as L and your last name as Lawliet. Are those aliases too or are those your real names?"
'Why is he wasting my time like this?' L thought. "Can we revisit the topic of the second chance? I don't see how this is relevant." Said L as he wiped the last bit of blood from his nose.
"Oh but this is relevant. If I'm going to take another chance on you, I need to know you better, judge your character. To do that, I need to know your background."
"They're not aliases." He answered curtly.
"How curious. It also said in there that Wammy adopted you. Why you, of all those children?" Asked Ferraro.
Damn him. Couldn't he see that talking required breath, which caused him pain? L just looked at him with deflated eyes, wondering if Ferraro would have him beaten again if he refused to continue the conversation. Lucky for him a house servant arrived with some papers. Ferraro greeted the man and even shook his hand, taking the pile of papers from him. One in particular rolled off the top and landed right in front of L. It was a magazine. What caught his attention was a picture on the front page of Misa, in all her glory, with the words 'Misa Misa: Pop Idol Mysteriously Goes On Hiatus' written under it.
Ferraro noticed what L was looking at and quickly grabbed the magazine out of L's sight. The raven haired man wished he hadn't, as he was curious to know what spiel they'd fed the media to justify Misa's disappearance. Ferraro placed the magazine at the bottom of the pile.
"Unfortunately, it seems I have other business to attend to, so I'll have to get to the point."
L cheered on the inside.
"I want you to work for the ICPO, or rather for me. You will take every case that I assign to you, without question, and you will also take this..." He said, pulling out a small red phone "...which you will use to report directly to me on all cases I give you. If you can do that, then maybe we'll talk about Misa Amane, is that understood?"
L looked at him feebly. So essentially he was supposed to give up solving only cases he found interesting, in favor of becoming a dog of Interpol, or rather, Ferraro's personal detective dog. The first thing that came to his mind was to say no. It wasn't worth giving up everything he did, and who he was, just for a small, perhaps nonexistent, chance to see Misa again. He might do it for a definite chance, but not for a 'maybe.' Or would he?...
...
An hour later, L was shoved out the front gate to Ferraro's estate, in the pouring rain, with nothing but the red cell phone and a wallet with money. He coughed, and nearly wretched at the pain the movement caused him. He stood, holding on to the fence, catching his breath. The rain was beating down hard, soaking his hair and shirt, and making it stick to his lean torso. The detective stuck the red phone in his pocket, still in denial about having sold himself as a detective.
What was he now? He wasn't his own detective, or person anymore, and by the end of his conversation with Ferraro, he'd practically been reduced to indentured servitude.
"Report to him, he says...and maybe he'll let me see them...maybe. I'm an idiot. I'm the world's biggest idiot." He said to the rain.
Ferraro didn't even tell him when he'd be releasing Wammy. Without a doubt, L was truly alone now. He stood there for some time with his head hung low, just feeling the rain beating down on him like the million memories rushing through his mind, reminding him that this was all his fault. He sniffled and ran his hand over his nose, staining it with red liquid. He was bleeding again. Great.
He stared at the rain dissolving the blood in his hands and then pushed himself off the fence to begin his walk home. All he wanted to do now was go numb, forget everything that's happened and go back to being his normal, unmitigated self that did what he wanted, when he wanted, and was perfectly content solving puzzles and eating sweets. He wanted to be the way he was before he fell stupid in love with Misa Amane.
"Well Light, it looks like she did us both in. We both lost." He said, envying Light yet again.
While the brunette he once called friend was probably dead already, and free from his turmoil, L's had only just begun, and heaven forbid he had a long life ahead of him to wallow in his regret. The detective tried to push his thoughts aside and focused on putting one foot in front of the other as he carried his battered body home, longing to forget.
...
"Ta-da!" Said Misa, throwing open the door to a newly decorated room. "This is Mello's room. Do you like it?" She asked Halle, who was stepping into the room.
Halle looked around the spacious room, impressed with Misa's handiwork. She sure had an eye for aesthetics. Little Mihael's room was painted gray, with lots of bubbly red and white shapes on the walls. The floor was carpeted white, but Misa had added a large area rug that was red with white accents, to match the bubbly shapes. The rest of the furniture in the room was white wood with red accents and as a final touch, Misa had placed a large red "M" on the wall directly behind his crib.
"Pretty awesome, I must say." Said Halle. "And you did it all by yourself too, kudos."
Misa placed her hands on her hips and looked around proudly. As far as she knew, the nursery was something that a mother and father generally did together, so at first she was sad that she couldn't share this with L. But she threw herself into the project anyway, did the work of two people, and in the end, it turned out pretty good.
Misa walked over to Mihael's crib and looked adoringly at the 5-month-old baby. His blonde hair had grown out a little more and he often rolled onto his stomach in an attempt to crawl. Her favorite part about him though was the constant baby babble that he engaged in, as if talking to himself in an unintelligible language that only he understood. She could listen to him for hours.
Her phone rang.
"Waah, I have to go. Detective business is calling..." She said, rushing out of the room.
Misa ran down the stairs and out of her apartment. This new place that they had been taken to after L's invasion was a 10-story building that housed several ICPO offices on the first floors and a couple of penthouse apartments toward the top. Currently, she occupied the 9th and 10th floors, while Halle was on the 7th and 8th floors. They both loved it, and it wasn't too far from Halle's old apartment, which made it easier to transition into.
The blonde exited the elevator and prepared to enter her very own investigation room, on the first floor. She actually hated that room, its gloominess, its minimalist decor, the dozens of computer monitors facing a single long desk with a chair just for her. In short, it looked too much like the main investigation room in the KIT Headquarters. One time she could have sworn she saw L sitting there, but it had been just her tired mind playing cruel tricks on her.
She ran over to the main computer and plopped herself down on the big chair. As if on cue, Ferraro's face appeared on the large screen before her.
"Hello, Misa" He said.
"Hi Mr. Ferraro. It's great to see your face again!" She said cheerfully.
"Likewise" He told her. "Are you adjusting well to your new facilities?"
"Yeah! They're great..." She said, thinking of how to phrase her next question. "So um, have you heard anything about L yet? I'm actually really surprised that he just disappeared after the raid and stuff. It's like he dropped off the face of the planet or something like that..." She said, frowning.
Ferraro kept a serious face. "I'm afraid I don't have any news for you on that front. I have not seen, or heard anything about detective L ever since the raid. I wouldn't worry about it anymore, and besides, you've been doing such a fine job as a detective. I've heard that you're quite a fast learner. You should leave detective L to us and just focus on your own detective duties." He said, almost father-like.
"Okay..." She said, trying to mask her disappointment.
...
It was late and the rain had finally died down. Watari walked into his and L's house in Winchester expecting to find his adoptive son inside. The place was more like a hideout more than an actual home, with its vacuous spaces filled with only the necessary things and the many computers and tv's that L required. On his way in, Watari stepped over some glass from a broken tv monitor.
"Hm? What's this?" He muttered.
The crunching underneath his feet became constant the further he walked into the living room. Watari's brow knit together into a frown as he noted the dozens of monitors and computer equipment strewn around, giving him the impression that someone ransacked the place.
"L? Are you here?" He called out but heard no response.
This was strange because as far as Watari knew, the ICPO had not found this place, and nothing seemed to be missing, just broken and thrown about. He continued to call for L as he traveled up the stairs. The upstairs part was completely dark as well and when he turned on the lights, he saw that like the downstairs area, things were thrown all around, but there was also vomit everywhere, as well as an empty bottle of whiskey.
"No!" Gasped the old man upon finding L strewn out on the single couch in the place, unconscious. He ran over to the young man and took his pulse, noting how cold L's body felt. The detective was soaked and covered in cold sweat and more bruises than he cared to count, but he still had a pulse.
"L" He said, but received no response. Watari pulled L's hair off his forehead and that's when he noticed his slightly blue appearance and his slow, labored breathing.
"But I don't understand, L doesn't drink..." He said to himself with grief as he took out his cell phone to call for help.
...