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He had been sick that morning for the first time in years.
He had tried to fight it, unused to the old feeling, but in the end had had to scramble for the handcuff key, ignoring Light, freed himself just in time, and locked himself in the bathroom.
"Ryuzaki?"
He had gone very quiet since turning the taps off. He supposed it was nice of Light to show some concern.
"I'm all right," he called. His throat felt like he still had his nails in it. He cleared it, eying himself in the mirror. He had gone a very unlikely shade of pale.
"Should I get Watari? Or should I- ?"
"No."
"Then can I come in?"
He deliberated. It was either let Light in, come out, or let Light get Watari. He let Light in.
The effort caused him to lean against the wall.
"Are you OK?" Light asked, rather stupidly. He looked genuinely concerned. He was a marvellous actor. No wonder he was winning.
"Ryuzaki?"
He'd been having weird dreams. It was new to him. He always got wrapped up in cases, but not like this.
"I'm fine," he said, even as his vision began to spot red. He stumbled to the sink for a better grip. Somehow it was his reflection that brought the images back. Light with red eyes, written words, Shinigami -
His knees gave out and he went down, forehead smashing on the sink. He was on his knees then, unseeing, as Light was trying to get hold of him and talk to him, whilst he was trying to crawl back and keep Light at arm's length. He suddenly knew, even more so than he had before – 100%! – that it was Kira in front of him, and it was not only fear but revulsion that made him hold the other man back.
Leaning back against the sink, his vision began to swim back, and he looked at light through his hair and the red, felt that he had stopped fighting him and that he also knew. He knew that L knew. Then L felt icy water on his forehead and oh, that was a better. Light kept splashing him, and holding his wet palm to his forehead.
"You idiot," Light kept saying. He sounded furious.
L closed his eyes.
"I'm getting help."
"No." He tried to pull on their chain for emphasis, remembered he'd taken it off.
"You have to start looking after yourself, Ryuzaki. You're helping no-one this way."
"I've never gone dizzy before in my life, Light," he said with dignity. "You can ask Watari. I may not look much, but my health is flawless."
"You didn't just 'go dizzy,' Ryuzaki, you threw up and passed out. I haven't even seen you eat today. I don't know what you're trying to prove, but you need to eat and sleep and just…not kill yourself over this."
Kill myself. Hahahaha. Oh, Kira.
"Are you listening to me, Ryuzaki?"
"I'm listening, Light-kun."
He snorted. "I suppose you think I'm behind this."
L opened his eyes. He realised Light's cool hand was still on his head, and slowly leaned away from it.
"I saw the way you were looking at me," he continued. "Whatever just happened, I assure you it wasn't me trying to kill you. Even if you've always been the very picture of health."
This last was sarcastic. Light had made it very clear what he thought of L's sugar-laden lifestyle.
"It was nothing like a heart-attack," L agreed. "Who knows. Perhaps you're right, Light-kun. Perhaps I just need to lie down."
He started thinking again, and something must have shown in his face, for Light's annoyance was stripped away and all that was left was concern. Concern that looked so real. "Are you OK?"
"Yes." Just hurting like hell. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to the task force."
"OK. But I think you should have your head looked at. You scared me when you went down like that." He put his hand back to L's head, almost affectionately.
L wished he hadn't done that. He liked it very much.
"OK," he conceded. "Let's go and lie down. If my head is still unrecovered after a nap, I'll have it 'looked at.'"
"Sounds good to me." Light helped him to his feet.
"Thanks." He paused. "It won't happen again."
It happened again.
This was the real reason he hadn't put the chains back on.
His head hurt like hell and his throat burned. He came to with his forehead on the toilet seat and a hand gripping his shoulder. L was sure he had locked the door, and so he was inwardly cursing Light as he held back his hair for him. This time, there was no doubt that he had seen everything. L was mortified.
"L?"
"Get out."
Light eased him into an upright position.
"Get out."
"No." He flushed the toilet and held a cold flannel to L's forehead, and L had to admit it felt rather nice.
"Thanks," he muttered eventually.
He realised he was sort of leaning into Light's hand again, like a dog, and stopped himself. He sat up and eyed Light warily. Perhaps there was a small chance he may have not seen.
"Please don't mention this to anyone."
"OK."
"This normally never happens to me."
It wasn't a total lie. He had never passed out while vomiting before. Feeling half-done left a horribly unpleasant itch in his throat, but he knew Light would be watching him like a hawk for the rest of the night.
L had to get a grip. He wasn't a kid any more. Being found hanging over the toilet with vomit in his hair, quite possibly with his fingers down his throat, was a new low. And found by none other than his adversary. How embarrassing.
"Can you get out now?" he said to Light. "I want to wash my hair."
For a moment, L almost thought he was going to say no. "Leave the door open," he said finally. "The steam might make you dizzy. You're still very pale."
"I'm always pale," he muttered, but he obediently left the door open a crack, and Light didn't mention it again.
By the third time it happened, he was past caring.
He didn't know how long he'd been crouched there for, but he was stiff and freezing and the bathroom smelt horribly of bleach. The tiles were like ice under his bare feet. The taps were still running. He tried to stand up several times, but he really didn't want to hit his head on the way down again.
"Ryuzaki?" Light called. "I'm coming in now."
The taps went off. L looked up at Light with blurry vision.
He knelt in front of L and put a hand to his forehead.
"I'm OK," he murmured.
"You sure?" he said. "It sounded like you were being really violently sick this time."
He could have laughed. Ice cream was one of the most pleasant foods to bring back up.
The pain of it was so viciously satisfying, like scratching, like clawing pain out of himself. Which relieved him for moments before he felt sick and nauseous and ashamed and in pain and, vaguely, worse.
"What's going on?" Light said, when L was recovering against the wall. "I've done what you wanted. I haven't told anyone, I've left you in peace. But you're not getting better, are you?"
L put his thumb in his mouth, took it out again.
Light simply waited him out, knowing he had the upper hand.
"It's just a habit from when I was a kid," he muttered eventually, loathing himself. "I don't know what's come over me. I haven't done it in years. But I'll be fine."
Light looked sceptical. "You've been saying that for weeks."
He sighed. "Honestly, Light. I've worked on cases more gruelling than this. I'll be fine."
"So, what happens next time you want to do this?"
"It's only happened once."
"Three times. That I know of," he said, with emphasis.
L sighed. "It won't happen again."
"You need to go to bed and rest," he insisted. "I don't care how suspicious that makes me."
L smiled wanly, offered Light his hand. "You're very kind, Light-kun."
He smiled bitterly, hauled L to his feet. "When I'm not killing strangers."
"Yes."
Yes, that part was a shame.
"Why do you do it?"
L looked up. He'd been waiting for this, but Light had left it longer than he thought. They'd be alone and steadily ignoring each other for days.
"I mean," Light sounded awkward. "It's something I've never got, especially when it's not…an appearance based thing?"
L snorted.
"Does it help you think?"
"I don't recommend it, if that's what you mean." He finished what he was typing, swivelled his chair at an angle and put his thumb in his mouth. Rather than being deliberately vague, which would bait Light even more, he planned to make him so uncomfortable that he would never broach the subject again. "It helps me relax. It's a way of hurting myself that always makes me feel like it'll clear my head and relieve me. And for a second, it does…and then it doesn't. So I feel worse."
He eyed a few leftover candies as he spoke. He quite wanted them, but he felt uncomfortable eating in front of Light now.
Light appeared to be following. "So you do it again."
"Mm."
"Does anyone know?"
"Watari. Obviously. But not since I was quite young."
"How young's young?"
L just looked at him.
"OK," Light said.
They went back to work in a very awkward silence. L wanted to go to the bathroom more than anything.
"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," Light said quietly, after a while. "When you feel like that, I mean. I know I don't understand any of it, but…you should take care of yourself instead of hurting yourself."
L said nothing.
"I know you don't trust me at all – which is good, for the case – but, if there's anything I can do…" he tailed off meaningfully.
L was nodding vigorously, typing away, praying for the conversation to end. He wouldn't let it happen again, even if it meant he couldn't eat, sleep, or be alone. He wouldn't let it happen again out of spite, because for all his quiet concern, Light was still winning and he couldn't have that.
"I think I know what to do."
L turned to Light. His eyes dropped to the teen's hand. He was holding out an open cuff. The other was shut around his wrist.
"I'm still under suspicion. Put it back on, and give the key to my Father."
L stared at him.
"You can't go on like this. We've got work to do."
L eyed the candies on the desk. The truth was…he almost wanted to go on like this. In a way, it did help him think. It helped him relax. A case had never taken him so long. He hated himself for it. Wanted to hurt himself for it.
"Ryuzaki."
L met his eyes again, warily. Light was looking at him steadily.
"I'll help you. I won't let you."
L looked at the candy one last time before sighing and surrendering his wrist. Work was more important. It was always more important. "Fine."
Light closed the chain around him with a solid click. He put the key on his side of the desk, where L could see it. "I'll give this to my Father when he comes back."
They went back to work.
Later, even as L squirmed with the urge gnawing at his insides, part of him was relieved. Now, he was going to win this.