End Games

Chapter 33: Home

L opened his eyes to find himself in a white, sterile room, with tubes and needles sticking out of his arms. He looked around, drowsy and disoriented, just barely recognizing the Wammy's House infirmary. He was home.
L thought he was alone until he heard shuffling and humming from somewhere in the room. L's eyes followed the sound and quickly landed on a lanky young man with styled, edgy brown hair that hung partially over one of his eyes.
"Ah you're awake! Finally, some excitement!" Said the man, approaching him with a spring in his step. "Just kidding! There's been plenty of excitement these past three days. You died twice!"
The man proceeded to prick and prod at L more roughly than necessary, giggling to himself whenever the raven-haired man flinched in pain.
"Who are you?" Asked L, surprising himself with how low and raspy his voice sounded.
The young man came up close to L's face, grinning. "You really don't remember me?" He asked.
L narrowed his eyes and racked his brain, trying to put a name to him, but each time he came up empty.
"Hah, and here I thought you didn't forget things..." Said the man. "Here...maybe this will help your poor memory" He said, pulling back the hair off his face. "Now picture this, but with thick rimmed glasses and braces." Said the man with glint in his eyes.
"Oh..." Said L, clearing his parched throat. "It's you. Ethan. Ethan Moresly."
Moresly straightened up abruptly, delighted by L's realization. L didn't remember his old roommate at Wammy's House being so hyperactive, in fact, he recalled him being quiet and aloof. Then again, from the looks of it, Ethan had changed a lot over the years, whether or not for the better, he hadn't decided yet.
"Good, good!" Said Moresly walking toward a small metal cart, his lab coat swishing behind him. The man hummed to himself as he fiddled with something on the cart, occassionally chuckling. L looked at him curiously.
"Why are you laughing?" He asked. Moresly's chilling laughter increased.
"Because I think life is so funny...L. Here I was, hoping that something terrible would happen to you all these years, and lo-and-behold, you end up on my operating table of all places, more dead than alive, wheelchair wasted with a standardized BAC higher than your IQ score, and I have to admit...I was eating it all up, watching you convulse in your deathbed. But then Wammy came up to me all teary-eyed, begging me to pull you from your grave, and I couldn't help but think how ironic the situation was. I wanted you dead, yet I was the one charged with the arduous task of saving you" He sighed. "And you want to know why? Because I'm the best fucking MD there is. I've performed thousands of complex, high-risk procedures and not once have I lost a life. Trust me, I've had to work some serious magic for some cases, and I wasn't about to tarnish my record with your pathetic ass."
L said nothing. He always knew that Moresly had an aversion toward him, but not to the extent that he would want him dead.
Moresly's cheerful expression dissipated. "And you know what pisses me off the most? That Wammy favored you even though I was the better kid. I would have been a better son to him than you ever were." He said, brandishing some painful-looking instruments on the metal cart.
L eyed him wearily. He knew exactly why Moresly despised him. It was because Wammy was originally going to adopt him, but after L arrived, Wammy took him instead of Ethan. Surely that was a huge blow for the brunette standing before him, but as far as L was concerned, his animosity was misplaced because he never asked Wammy to adopt him.
"But you were just so special, who could argue?" Moresly continued, his voice hot with pent-up anger."It was always L this, L that..."
Moresly finally settled on an icepick-looking object and began to clean it disdainfully. As if robbing him of a father wasn't enough, L had also made his stay at Wammy's a nightmare. For an orphan, L was a complete brat who got whatever he wanted, when he wanted it, and he also lied a lot, which more than a handful of times got Moresly into trouble. Eventually, the two of them became so hostile toward each other that Wammy saw no choice but to separate them. After one year of living with Moresly, L got a room to himself. A whole fucking room, full of computers and all the coolest toys that L requested. It was bullshit.
At that moment, Wammy came into the room.
"L!" He said, relieved. L had never been happier to see him. Wammy approached his son and put his hand on his forehead, brushing the strands of black hair to the side.
"This is good. You don't have a fever anymore." The old man commented.
"I told you I wasn't going to let him die." Said Moresly, slapping a cheerful smile on his face.
He took an enormous syringe from the cart and came at L with it. The detective pulled back but Moresly still managed to plunge the needle into the side of his chest forcefully, causing him to grunt in pain.
"Relax, you pansy. I'm only removing excess air around your lung." Said the doctor with a wicked smile on his face. Just because he wasn't going to let L die didn't mean he couldn't cause him pain.
Wammy grimaced at the sight and asked for the full rundown of L's injuries. Moresly began to list them in a labored tone.
"Well, he's got internal injuries caused by whatever, I'm sure he can tell you why he's busted all over. He's got a broken nose, that'll heal on its own..." He addressed L now. "You had severe alcohol poisoning and we had to pump your stomach, and last but not least you have four fractured ribs, and a punctured lung, which is why you can't breathe properly..." He said, wiggling the needle in L's side ever so slightly, before yanking it out painfully. L clenched his jaw, trying not to give Moresly the satisfaction of knowing he was causing him pain.
'This is just what I needed...mild torture...' He groaned and shifted to his side, curling up the way he liked in spite of the discomfort.
"Thank you, Ethan." Said Watari.
Moresly beamed at him, basking in his praise.
"So how long will he be like this?" Asked Watari.
"Oh he can get up any time he wants to, he should just avoid exercise, and be prepared for some well deserved misery!" He said smiling.
"I'm sorry?"
"Nevermind. His ribs and lung aren't going to heal for another three months and the process will be painful." He said, savoring that last word. "Anyways, I'm going to leave now, Wammy. I have better things to do, like water my cacti." Said Moresly, leaving them.
L was relieved to see him go. Moresly was getting on his nerves, literally, and it would be best to leave his care as soon as possible. Watari turned to L and sat down on the nearby armchair.
"What happened?" He asked softly.
"It hurts to talk. Bring me a laptop and I'll type everything in an essay..." Said L with effort. "I also think that you should prepare my successors. Some things have changed, and I don't know how much longer I'll be around."
Watari regarded him with a sad expression. So it was coming to this...
...
Roger Ruvie, interim director of Wammy's House emerged from his office and headed towards the main common room, where most of the children were gathered in their post-dinner activities. There, among the many promising geniuses, he found his targets. He approached a group of girls playing cards on the floor and addressed a small, dark-skinned girl with honey brown eyes, and thick ringlets spilling out of her pig tails. The girl looked to be about 9 and carried a teddy bear close to her chest. She quietly followed Roger as he walked over to a group of boys sitting in front of the television. One in particular, a boy that looked to be 13 with messy black hair and green eyes sat on the side, playing a video game on his laptop. Roger called his name and the boy quickly looked up, surprised to see Roger standing there for it was well known that Roger would rather wax his legs than spend time in the common room with the children.
Roger motioned for the boy to follow him, and he quickly closed his laptop and got on his feet. Once they arrived at the main office, the two children were surprised to see Wammy, and not Roger, sitting at the big desk.
"Hello, there" Said Watari pleasantly to the weary children. "I'm Quillish Wammy, you may just call me Quillish. Or Wammy, whichever you prefer." He said, smiling.
The children gave him weak smiles, and Watari could see the look of uncertainty painted clearly on their faces.
"This is Quinn." Said Roger, gesturing to the boy. "And this is Casey." He said looking at the small girl. "...They both scored highest overall in their respective disciplines. Their skills even transcend their age groups and they often take classes with the older kids. I suppose that when the time comes they will be referred to as Q and C respectively."
The children swallowed nervously. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they'd just been chosen to be L's replacement. Neither child said anything on the matter, and there was a long pause as they stared blankly at Watari, like deer in headlights.
Quinn's green eyes fixated on an object on Roger's, or rather Watari's desk. He'd always known that he was smart, but he never considered himself the forerunner to be the next L. Sure, he'd expressed interest in becoming a detective once, but that was a long time ago, and even then he was only half-serious about it. He never fathomed that the title and responsibility would be thrown upon him like this.
Likewise, Casey was petrified, holding on to her teddy bear for dear life. She really wanted to give back to Wammy's House for everything they'd done for her, but she was only 9 and knew nothing about detective work. Only moments ago, she was playing cards with her friends, and now she was expected to replace the world's greatest detective? The thought made her head spin, and she found herself wishing that she'd paid more attention in class.
Watari observed them closely and sighed, realizing that this was going to be more difficult than he'd anticipated. These children may be extremely intelligent, but they were no L, and what's more, they were scared...
-elsewhere-
Panda eyes stared at her, and she stared back at them with a frown. Misa sat in front of Mello's crib, watching the soft rise and fall of his chest as he slept. Now was her chance.
'Gotcha' She slipped her arm over the railing and grabbed the panda bear plushy that was tucked under her son's arm.
She started to pull it away, very gently so as to not disturb its owner, but just before she could pull it free, her son woke and renewed his grip on the bear. Misa paused, watching him as he watched her. Once more, she tried to pull the bear out but the infant had a vice grip on it. Finally, she gave a sharp tug, yanking it out of the infant's hands.
'Success!' She celebrated as she threw the bear inside the closet, out of sight. Immediately, her son's arms reached up for it, and his whimpers grew louder and louder. She hushed him and sang to him in an attempt to appease him. She tried to get him another plushy, a dog, but he simply pushed it away and cried harder. He wanted the panda. The stupid panda. She sighed in defeat and went to the closet to get the panda bear plushy.
She fetched it dutifully and felt a sadness when she looked at its plastic, black-rimmed eyes. For a second she let herself remember him, the one who stole her heart and never gave it back...the man who made her the happiest, and the saddest, but also gave her the best thing in the world. Absently, she touched the bear's face and hugged it.
"Did you just take that from your kid so you could cuddle with it? If you want one so badly you should get your own..." Said a male voice, startling her.
Misa turned toward the door to find Gevanni standing there, with Halle at his side. The older blonde snickered and then burst out laughing at seeing Misa almost make out with that stuffed bear. Misa turned red and threw her a dirty look, realizing how stupid she must look holding the panda as if it were her lover. She couldn't believe that she got carried away with some dumb toy.
"I was just going to give it to him!" Said Misa, marching to the baby's crib and depositing the panda in her son's arms.
"Sure you were...after you smooched with it first!" Said Halle.
"I was NOT going to smooch with it!" She grouched before turning to Gevanni. "Have you been able to get in contact with L?" She asked him.
Gevanni shook his head. "Not at all. The transceiver is dead and so is the phone. It's like he disappeared..."
Misa pursed her lips with concern. For months she'd heard no news about L, which was extremely unusual given his tenacity, and what's more, she hadn't been able to contact Watari either. Her first thought was that something was wrong. Was L hurt because of her? The idea made her skin crawl and she prayed it wasn't so. Her second thought was that maybe he'd given up and forgotten about her. She didn't like that option either, but it was the most probable. After all, how long can you chase someone before getting tired and moving on?
She turned to look at her son with a dejected look. All she'd wanted was an apology...a measly "I'm sorry." Looking at her son, a piece of him, it suddenly seemed silly to her, so trivial. Maybe she was missing him, or maybe it was because she was worried about Mihael missing him too, but she secretly hoped to find him, even if only to make sure that he was alright.
"Da-da-da-da" Babbled Mello in his endless baby-language. Halle gasped and rushed over to the crib.
"See? I told you. He's starting to form words! At this rate he'll be saying 'dad' pretty soon." Said Halle, not realizing the impact of her words on Misa.
Of course she'd heard her son string that syllable before...that dreaded syllable that with a simple flick of the tongue can turn into the word that describes the man who wasn't there to hear them. Dad. It was awful. She'd tried to teach him 'mama' instead but it was futile. He was already stuck on that word, and no matter what she tried with him, Mello seemed to end up doing the opposite.
"What am I going to do with you?" Said Misa softly. "Why can't you say 'mom' instead? At least I'm right here..."
"I hope this doesn't sound insensitive but have you considered dating other men?" Asked Gevanni.
Misa looked at him surprised and Halle threw him a warning glance.
"I mean, I know it may seem abrupt, but if you're determined to never see L again, and you're worried about him missing a father...well, he's a baby and he won't know the difference between his father and some other guy. And if things go well, maybe you won't ever have to tell him the truth." Said Gevanni.
"Stephen, how could you even suggest something like that?" Said Halle.
Misa was quiet. Date other men? She did have a lot of suitors and guys asked her out almost on a daily basis, so finding a surrogate father for Mihael wouldn't be difficult. Yet, her stomach churned at the idea of being touched by another man, and so she shirked away from it.
-Days later-
L was walking the grounds around Wammy's House, when he saw Moresly exiting the dining room to have a smoke. The young doctor's jagged hair bounced slightly with each springy step he took and his lab coat swished behind him as he walked out in the direction of the pond. L struggled to catch up to him with his shortness of breath.
"Moresly." He said, walking behind the other man.
"Oh hello!" Said the brunette cheerfully, turning toward him. "What the fuck do you want?" He asked, less pleasantly.
"I wanted to tell you that your Experimental Physiology research paper on the prefrontal lobes of the brain was quite interesting." Said L.
"Oh yeah?" Said Moresly, skeptical. "...like you read it all."
"I did."
The doctor snorted and lit his cigarette.
"I was particularly interested in your understanding of procedures involving the thalamus and hippocampus. I was wondering if you'd ever performed such procedures on human subjects." Said L, looking at him intently.
Moresly regarded the detective curiously. "What are you getting at?"
"Well, have you?" Asked the detective.
"Of course not. Lobotomies have been deemed highly unethical since the late 1950's." He said with a hint of irritation. "Everybody knows that. Idiot."
"Would you want to?"
"Huh?"
"Would you be interested in performing a specialized lobotomy on a live human subject?"
Moresly's face contorted into a frown for the first time, his mind racing with the endless implications of L's question.
"Specialized how?"
"Sever connections to the thalamus and the hippocampus to erase long-term memory and destroy the ability to feel emotions. Specifically, ridding someone of feelings of pain, though, I understand that may do away with all feelings altogether." Said L.
'A specialized lobotomy to rid someone of pain and memories? How curious...I like the sound of that.' Thought the doctor. He smiled.
"There's just one problem with that. Whose brain?" Asked Moresly.
"Mine." Said L.
"Y-yours?" Said Moresly nearly choking on his cigarette.
"Yes, my brain."
'Is he toying with me? He must be! Why on earth would he ever risk his most valued gift?...' Thought the doctor. Finally, he giggled and threw his cigarette out. "Come by the lab later. We'll talk." He said before taking off.
...
Watari sat in the main office deep in thought. Something was very wrong with L. Ever since his imprisonment in Ferraro's estate and the deal he had to make with him, he hadn't been himself. He barely ate anything, sweet or not, and he spent his time reading or sulking, or walking aimlessly around the orphanage. Watari never wanted things to get this bad, and if he'd known it would come to this, he would have told L Misa's whereabouts a long time ago. Guilt was eating away at him and he really wished that he could call Misa and put an end to this. Unfortunately, Ferraro's agents took the satellite phone from him and they were twin phones, only able to communicate with each other.
"What a mess..." Whispered Watari to no one.
Then there was the issue of Quinn and Casey. If there was something he'd learned throughout the years at L's side is that not just anyone could do what L did. Intelligence aside, whomever succeeded him needed to be mentally strong, capable of handling themselves in the face of grotesqueness, and above all, they must enjoy solving the puzzles and mysteries. That was the key to staying alive under such pressure. Those who didn't meet those criteria usually ended up crazy, or worse. Memories of A invaded his mind...A, L's predecessor who shot himself after realizing how miserable he was. Then there was B, or Backup, L's most promising successor. He too went mad, became a serial killer and set himself on fire, only to then be captured by L himself. After that came K, another promising L successor, and no one knows what became of her as she went missing. Probably killed herself just like A.
In short, Watari suspected that Quinn and Casey lacked the mental fortitude to become the next L. Yet, there was one last thing he could try before writing them off. His thoughts were interrupted by L coming into the office.
"You wanted to see me." Said L, languidly perching himself on a chair across from the old man.
"Yes, it's about your successors." Said Watari."...you may have some work to do if you plan to retire soon."
...
After about half an hour of conversing with Watari, L left the main office to meet with Moresly. He recalled the corridors of Wammy's House perfectly as he navigated them on his way to the labs. Some of the children he passed gave him strange looks, having never seen him there before. It had been such a long time since L had been to Wammy's House, he doubted anyone besides the senior staff would remember or recognize him.
He arrived at the cold, sterile, medical sector of the orphanage and quickly found Moresly's lab. The door swung open and Moresly appeared behind it, looking chipper as always.
"Hey. I saw you through the cameras. Come in and take a seat." Said the doctor. L stepped inside but instead of sitting, he walked around, inspecting the contents of the medicine cabinets.
"This is an awful lot of narcotics. I'm surprised they let you keep them here." Said L, staring at a particular cabinet.
Moresly snorted. "Do you even know who I am? I happen to be one of the world's leading immunologists and I use them for research purposes." He said.
L opened the cabinet. It wasn't even locked. 'Keep fooling yourself Ethan...' He thought, as he looked at each vial.
"I knew that." Said the detective. "After all, how often do children get injured so severely that they need to be given Morphine..." L commented, turning over a bottle of clear liquid. "Which of these do you use?" He said, taking Moresly aback for a split second.
"Very good! You got me. I'd forgotten how perceptive you are." Said Morsely without a hint of malice this time. "I should have expected you to notice, being so clever and all, just like in the old days. Oh yes, I remember back when the annual aptitude scores were posted outside the main office. No one's real names were ever listed on the charts but I always knew who was who. Especially that lonely little dot at the very high end of the distribution, far above everyone else. You were pushing 200 back then." He sighed. "I was always a measly 15 points behind you. I bet that would still hold true today..."
L regarded him with a bored expression. He didn't come here to reminisce about the past.
"Oh, and if you must know, I don't use any of that. I make my own." He said, grinning innocently. "You should try it some time, it's quite good. It might even make you walk with proper posture..." He chuckled. "...but anyway, I digress. About your lobotomy..."
L finally perched himself on the seat across Moresly's desk.
"..I gave it some thought and by that I mean I dissected all the risks and scenarios revolving this little experiment. These range anywhere from you dying a miserable idiot to me being vilified and shunned by the medical community, but I'm sure you already knew all of this." Said Moresly, making grand gestures.
"Right, I did. Go on."
"Yes, so all that mish-mosh aside, playing inside your brain with sharp objects sounds hella fun and I'm in!" He announced.
L nodded his head, satisfied.
"But" Said the doctor. "There's something very intriguing about this petition. What happened to you that you're so keen to do this to yourself? I mean, it's plainly obvious that this is like a scientific cure for suffering or heartache. Tell me, who hurt you?" He said, in a patronizing tone.
For a moment, L thought about Misa, in his arms, professing her love for him. Then just as quickly, he pushed the memory away. He stayed quiet, refusing to humor Moresly with his personal life. The doctor looked at him expectantly, as if waiting on some juicy gossip, but he was rewarded with more silence.
"Boo! I guess you're not going to tell me...fine. I suppose I should also tell you that the likelihood of me succeeding in this endeavor is about 50-50."
L looked up for a second. "Actually, I would say it's more 60-40 in my favor. I have faith in you." He said.
"Well thank you. That means a lot coming from you...also, I must ask. What if, hypothetically, I was to feel a little vengeful during the procedure and decide to scramble your brains like battered eggs?" Asked Moresly with a wicked smile. "You're placing an awful lot of trust in me..."
"If you feel so inclined, then go ahead. It's not like I'll know. I'll die and you'll tarnish your precious reputation." Said L without a hint of remorse.
Moresly just looked at him and smiled. He definitely did not expect this from the detective, and he couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind at this time. Regardless, this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. He would do it. Moresly stood up and shook L's hand to seal the deal.
"Great. Now that I have your cooperation, don't mind if I grab these..." Said L as he got off the chair and walked right over Moresly's desk to the medicine cabinet containing all the narcotics.
"Hey! I need those!" Protested Moresly as L began to raid the cabinet.
"Until I get my surgery, I'll need to be as comfortable as possible, so I'll be taking some of these. Thank you for your generosity, Ethan, though, a brain for a few painkillers is hardly a fair trade." Said L.
"Oh, alright, but just leave me some!"
And just like that, L exited the lab.