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Light wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping and clutching at his chest as if he’s a madman. His eyes slowly flicker open as he looks at the darkened ceiling above him, his free hand clutches at the satin bedsheets, as consciousness returns. And with it, comes his memories.
He was having a nightmare, which unfortunately isn’t an uncommon experience. It hasn’t been for nearly four years now.
He had been back in that bathroom, back at L’s old Kira Headquarters. He had been bleeding out on the floor, and he had felt the pain as clearly as he had that day. He had thought that he would die from the betrayal alone. The betrayal, and the lies, and the foolishness which had allowed him to believe in those lies.
But he wasn’t in that bathroom anymore. He hadn’t been for four years. Now, he lived in England. He was laying in L’s California king bed with the man in question swaddled up in sheets beside him. Light sighed, running his clammy fingers through his mussed hair. It was night three. That was usually the night L caved and finally got some rest.
It was these nights, after he had awoken from a nightmare to find that he was all alone, that were the toughest. Usually when he would jolt away gasping and panting L would be there to console him, and maybe make him tea. Light would fall back to sleep and he wouldn’t give his bad dream another thought. He was plagued with them every night, so by now banishing them from his mind had become a habit. He was smart, a genius after all, and he knew the horrors from imagination land couldn’t step into the real world to harm you.
Nightmares could be caused by many things. A bad day, eating chocolate before bed, stress, hidden desires. Physiological trauma. Like he had. And when L wasn’t around to distract him, he was left alone with his own thoughts. And that was never good. Especially when his thoughts turned dark and troublesome.
It always stayed with him, he had found that it was much simpler to ignore these thoughts, but they never left. It was like a terminal illness, one that could be helped but not cured with medicine. It was always hiding in the shadows of his peripheral, just threatening to break through the surface and torment him further. He thought he might always feel like an idiot in love.
And idiot especially because he had come back. He had always thought that he was strong, independent, worthy of only himself. He had believed he was above mundane problems such as romance and hurt. But yes, he had been hurt and yes, he had allowed the perpetrator back into his life.
And he didn’t regret it, mostly, because he had accepted the unfortunate fact that he had indeed fallen in love. At first it had made him nauseous and it had made him want to rip half of his brains out. At first it had made him want to hide, it had made him not even want to exist. Back when he had first felt the pangs of heartbreak he had stared at the darkened ceiling of his room while lying in bed and cursed himself. But, now, it had settled within him and the horror had lessened. he had accepted that he was still just a human who had fallen in love with another, and mostly this feeling called love caused him zero issues.
L was better now. Did they fight? Of course. Mostly it was small spats about trivial matters such as choosing a channel or eating something other than cake for dinner. Sometimes it would be such a horrible fight that Light break up with L and would fly back to Japan only to return a month later when L would buy him an island or send tearful letters.
But these fights, the bad ones, were few and far between. Light tried to remind himself of that. L had gotten better at not simply lashing out at him, and instead they had learned to try and talk things out in a civilized manner. L had learned how to compromise and Light had learned not to hit him whenever he was in a mood. Mostly they were happy. Mostly. And by happy he meant relatively calm and normal, because he didn’t think perfect bliss had room to exist in their world. And he was fine with that.
But scars, if not bandaged properly, would never fully heal. He was always reminded of that every time he took his shirt off and gazed at the long white one stitched permanently into his arm. It was always there, but he had learned not to burst into tears whenever he laid eyes upon it. He couldn’t change it, so it was better to accept.
But accepting was different for forgetting, because he quite literally had physical scars to remind him of what had happened. And it never didn’t rankle him, because even after all of these years he just couldn’t get over the unfairness of it all. He could never not remember how bone-breakingly agonizing his first heartbreak had felt. Sometimes he would have to lock himself in the bathroom and practice his breathing exercises because if he didn’t well, he would most likely literally snap.
He still didn’t trust L, not fully anyway. It was better than it had been, but still not enough. Never enough. It was that feeling of doubt and dread that would wiggle into his heart like a worm would into an apple, it was the second-guessing, it was the nail-biting anxiety which was waiting to see if L’s lie would be revealed. He couldn’t trust him with abandon, without question. If L told him the sky was blue he would believe him, but he’d have to double-check by peaking out of the blinds.
Actions were better. If L said something, and then followed through, Light could breath a sigh of relief. He still lied to him about small matters, which didn’t help, but Light was adult enough to push those under the rug. When it came to real life deceptions, there really weren’t any recent ones. He should believe him, because hadn’t L proved he had loved him?
Maybe. But Light still couldn’t be sure. He had known L had loved him all of those years ago, he had felt it inside of his bone marrow. He would have bet any amount of money on L’s love for him, and he would’ve known he’d win. So when he had found out that he had been so masterfully tricked, it had warped something inside of his mind.
Because by nature, Light had never been a trusting person. He relied on cold hard facts, and things he could see with his own eyes. He had trusted his mother, but that was because she was Sachiko and he knew her. He had trusted his father, well, until L’s little shooting range experiment, and that was still a thorn in his side that he couldn’t pluck out. But anyway, Light never blindly trusted someone’s words. You couldn’t, in a world as rotten and depraved as this one where everyone only looked out for themselves. It would be naive and simple-minded to place faith in people you didn’t really know. Because, who really knew anyone?
But he had trusted L. He still didn’t know why that was. Maybe, he could blame it on age, even though he had been exceptionally intelligent in his adolescence and the brightest student in Japan. Maybe he could blame it on the fact that he had been traumatized after his confinement, and that he just needed a shoulder to cry on. Maybe he could blame it on the fact that L was older than him. Maybe he could blame it on the fact that he had idolized the great detective in his youth.
Maybe, perhaps if he was to go so far, he could blame it on the fact that he had been soul-crushingly lonely. It had never not tormented him. And it wasn’t that he was a social outcast with no friends, because he had been quite popular.
But the trouble with that was that everyone had loved him for his looks, or his charms, or his smarts. Mostly, his looks, because even though he was not a narcissist he knew that he was attractive. It was a fact. He wasn’t going to be coy and act as if he had no idea how perfectly crafted his features were, because they were his pride and joy. they were everyone else’s pride and joy. they had wanted him for his outer shell, not for his soul or his heart or himself, really. They wanted a perfect actor who knew how to perfectly wear a mask. Everyone loved him, but no one liked him.
And no one could live up to his expectations. They were all so beneath him, it was boring. He never found someone that could understand him and him them. He had never found someone that made him excited to share his ideas, he had never met someone who had made him enjoy being himself. He had fantasized about it, but he only ever met nobodies. He never met anyone who’s heart he could feel.
Until L, that is. L had been everything he had ever wanted, had ever dreamed of. When he had first met him, he had been so surprised that the world’s greatest detective wasn’t some stuffy old coot, but a man not much older than him. Though L didn’t have his devastatingly handsome good looks, he was uniquely beautiful in his own way so of course that had drawn in Light as well. He had been honored to work on the Kira case, and he had been so determined to prove his innocence to L. Because, he understood L. He wanted to know everything about him, and he had wanted someone who truly understood him too.
And when L had began his master plan of seduction, Light had fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Though it was humiliating to admit, it had been the truth. He had thought L had finally seen him for who he was, and he thought that maybe he had liked what he saw. Idolatry probably played a big part in it too, since L was someone he revered, who wouldn’t be excited that their role-model wanted them?
He had been happy, for the first time in his life, that someone wanted him for him. And that he wanted them back. He had been joyful that he finally had someone who made him feel less alone in crowded rooms. He had loved the feeling of falling asleep next to someone and feeling their heart that was beating for him. He had placed all of his bets, all of his hope and trust and love in L’s palm. He had thought the stars had aligned, and that God had brought him his twin flame.
But L had taken his love, thrown it onto the ground, and spat on it as if it was nothing more than common rubbish. He had taken his heart, pulverized it into ruins, and placed the remains back inside for him to live with. He had soiled him, ruined him, and he had left as if Light was nothing more than a dead man. He had buried that hope into a shallow grave, and made the light in his soul dim.
And Light had been left to sit with a dunce cap on and wallow in his own stupidity. He had been left with broken promises and shattered dreams. He had had even less than what he had had before, and it was worse. He had been living with a blindfold under his eyes, and he hadn’t of expected the rug to be pulled out from under him so hastily. He had had everything, and then less than nothing, and he had felt hollowed out.
And he had learned the harsh lesson that hope was about the riskiest thing you could have. It could destroy you, kill you, leave you to rot. He had learned that no one could be trusted, and he couldn’t count on anything because there was always a chance of abandonment. Even now, L could still turn on him and tell him that it had all been a dream and leave him in the dust yet again. And who would he have to blame but himself?
He couldn’t look inside of L’s mind, there was nothing that tied them together, and this was all just a gamble. Often it felt as if he was standing on shipwrecked ruins in the middle of feisty waves and at any moment he feared that he could slip and drown.
Sure, L had gone over the moon to prove himself, but Light still couldn’t quite grasp onto that sense of security. Sometimes he could, when L kissed him just softly enough or when he would look at him with love meant only for him. When he looked into his eyes and saw nothing but his own reflection, it soothed some of the wailing inside of his own mind and for a few blissful moments he did feel love. He had made a calculated risk deciding to open his heart to L again, and so far it had paid off.
The was just always that lingering question of how long would it last. It made his head spin and his knees weak and he constantly felt as if he was being hunted down by some unseen force.
So if he felt this uneasy all of the time, why had he allowed L to do it to him again? Why had he come back?
He didn’t really have a good answer. He told himself it was because of love, but that didn’t seem like a good enough reason.
It had been awful, living without L. It had been a horror show to wake up every day and realize that he was still alone. It had made him sick, and it had made him want to blow his brains out. It had made him more miserable than anything ever had, and why would he want that? Light always got what he wanted, and what he had wanted was L.
Because it had been as if he was living without a piece of himself. He had felt off, he always had, until he was besides L. Even now, his life was better than it had ever been. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the full truth. His life had been perfect when he had believed L’s lies, and when he had only seen goodness inside of him.
But the past cannot be changed. Light could never forget, but forgiveness? That must have been what he had bestowed upon L. Because those lies and hurts still tormented him, but he wouldn’t leave L over them. He needed him. He knew that L had gone through hell and back to find him again, and while it was deserved, Light understood that feeling of hopelessness.
He had had a choice to make. Would he rather spend the rest of his life lost in the world because of his pride, or was he willing to lay down his weapons to find some peace? The answer was obvious. It was obvious then, and it was obvious now.
Maybe love wasn’t a good reason, because one could probably only understand it if hey had felt it. Light couldn’t even describe love to himself. What he knew was that he had forgiven L, and that he didn’t want to be without him. He loved him as one loves another whom one simply cannot do without. L made him smile, L made him feel okay, L was always there and he was there for him. And when Light could choke down his inhibitions and let himself believe in L’s love, it was nice. It was perfect. It was everything and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Only sometimes he would have a bad day, but that was to be expected. Right? Everyone had bad days. Just like his scar, it would never heal but it didn’t hurt. It was simply a reminder of past mistakes.
“Light?” A hoarse voice broke him out of his musings and he looked down to see that L had awoken. he could see the countries of his face outlined in the darkness and his hooded eyes gazed upon him as if he was the only thing that existed. “Did…you have another nightmare?”
Light hated him, and he loved him. He hated L for what he had done, and he always would, and sometimes that hatred made him want to burn everything to the ground. He could simply kick L in the shin and then stalk into the bathroom to have a piss and a think. he did that often and L never questioned it, because he always knew what it was about. He would never forget either.
But as they had always said, there was a tin line between love and hate. And Light did feel something for him that made his heart skip a beat and a sappy smile tug at his lips. It made him want to lay his head on the other’s shoulder and simply bask in his presence, it made him feel like he had something precious that no one else could ever understand. It did make him happy, as happy as he could be, and he supposed sacrifices had to be made for everything.
He was broken, L was broken, but they came together to be whole. Yuck, cheesy, but Light’s brain was still tired and wasn’t at one hundred percent.
“It’s fine.” He muttered, and L bit his lip. Light knew that when he thought the raven wasn’t looking, he always was. Whenever Light would get that faraway look in his eyes and grow quiet L knew that he was still suffering. And he did what he always did, he would take his hand into his and smile at him and hope that it was enough to make him stay. Just like he did now. His thumb ran up the back of his hand softly, and despite himself, Light smiled. L’s mere touch was enough to warm his chest.
“Just a bad day?”
“Just a bad day.” Light confirmed, laying back down. He had those a lot, and L knew that, but he also had good days. And L knew that too.
L wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, so that his head could rest on his chest above his beating heart. His heart that beat for him. “I love you.” L whispered, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.
“I know.” He whispered back, and that was Light speak for I love you too. Because he did. It was confusing, and horrifying, and pretty embarrassing but Light’s once ruined heart had been repaired and it still beat for L. Just like it always probably would.
And the steady thumps lulled him back to sleep and L continued to rub his back and he snuggled deeper into him. Owls hooted outside, and his eyes fluttered shut