A/N: A darker L. Likely considered OOC because of it. However, I've always considered the fact that L was never /nice/ nor really moral. He would do pretty much whatever he feels like would get the evidence he needs.
This is a character analysis of sorts and contains none-explicit but sensitive subject matter. None of which do I take lightly.
Set shortly after Light loses his memories but before the Yotsuba arc.
Summary: Breaking wasn't an option. LxLight. Dark. Slash. Oneshot.
WARNING: Abuse. Implied dub-con, non-con. Implied but non-explicit mentions of rape.
Bend
By Catsitta
.x.
Cold steel pressed against Light's throat, cutting off his argument in a crushed gasp. Startled, he clawed at the chilled metal links, desperate for air, but his struggles earned him no freedom. He jerked violently against his bondage. There was no escape. Fear stilled his throbbing heart when the chain bit deeper into the thin column of his neck, strangling him of both precious oxygen and blood. His vision blurred in the dappled darkness. The faint light filtering through the window turning to haloed stars that glittered in the grey murk of fading consciousness.
Just before he succumbed to the blackness, the weight on his neck released, the chain coiling loosely about Light's collarbone. With every desperate inhalation that followed, he cursed the man who held him captive. Who accused him of being Kira. They were supposed to be working together to prove his innocence, to find the one killing all these people! Yet here they were in the dark, playing dangerous games with Death.
Tawny eyes flicked to the side.
He could see movement, feel the whisper of cloth as his jailor shifted on the bed behind him, the chain connecting them at the wrist jingling like funeral bells. L was supposed to be the good guy. The ultimate justice. He was renowned for solving any case, never being wrong...he only punished criminals.
A corpse-cold hand slid up his neck, suddenly gripping Light's hair.
This dance. This deadly dance was never supposed to happen. But every evening, L set the cameras on a loop, hiding his actions from the watchful eyes of Watari and the police force. Light's own father was sitting in that security room now, staring absently at his son sleeping innocently as L, his supposed friend and protector, typed away at his laptop. He never saw—never would see—the utter shamefulness of what would undoubtably come to pass.
"Kira?" L's voice was little more than a breath, his lips floating by Light's ear.
"No. I'm not Kira!" There was no point in fighting. Despite the fact that he was not, never had been and never would be that mass murdering fiend...L refused to listen. For these next precious hours, the L he knew was replaced by something darker...someone desperate. There was knowing in his voice. He would list all the reasons and declare all the facts. He knew Light was Kira, said that his memory was missing but that was no excuse.
Maybe he hoped that one of these night's he would evoke these supposedly missing memories.
But how could Light remember something that wasn't true?
The metal closed in again, not enough to strangle, but enough to demand obedience.
Light leaned his head back, following the sharp tug of those spidery fingers. He tried fighting at first, when these nights began, but his struggles proved not only fruitless, but borderline fatal. L seemed to have no qualms using the chain to his upmost advantage, nor did he have anything against beating Light halfway senseless. Light could fight. But L always seemed to tip the tide at the last second and wrap that damn chain around his neck with bruising intensity.
"Light should just confess."
"Never."
He could feel L smirk against the back of his neck. His heart skipped as the detective pulled him onto his lap. It was always the same. He never changed his pattern. It would be so much easier to avoid this fight, to close his eyes and just claim to be Kira, if only to go a night without this hell. But a part of him refused, and it wasn't pride. No, his pride failed a long time ago It failed that very first night when L proved that he was willing to do anything to get a confession. To break his suspects.
Light wasn't an idiot. He knew that everything L was doing was wrong. From the chain, to the fighting to the inevitable conclusion of the night—it was all the epitome of immoral. Yet Light remained mum, his daytime regressions muted by these strange encounters in the blinding night. All he had to do was speak to anyone in the headquarters, tell them a fraction of what L was doing, and he would be free.
At first, he remained silent out of shame, his pride in shambles.
Then out of anger about being treated in such a manner.
Then out of desperation to prove his innocence.
Now...
Now he was out of reasons.
There was no excuse for L's behavior, nor any reason for Light to allow him his abuses. It was twisted, fucked up and killed him from the inside out. But every bruise and every fight took away a little of the helplessness. Gave him purpose. Gave him direction.
Like the finest of samurai swords in the midst of battle, he bent...because breaking was not an option.
"Kira."
"No."
"Confess!"
"Never."
The chain tightened for just an instant before slipping free, laying lax about his shoulders and waist. Light knew better than to try and move. He would be trapped like a fly in a spider's web if he so much as shifted an inch. It was better this way. Easier. Who would have thought it, the maverick genius taking the more trodden path?
A hand crept under his shirt.
Fingertips fluttered across his abdominals and traced his naval. Light shivered. Instinctively, he leaned back, allowing his jailor to cradle his weight against his chest.
This was wrong for so many reasons.
Yet a dark part of him craved this...these butterfly touches that always held forbidden promises. Light exhaled a shuddering breath. He should be fighting, screaming at the top of his lungs. Light Yagami wasn't a victim! Yet here was, allowing the embrace of his assailant...his...dare he think it? His rapist? Such a powerful word. It ruined lives, was a crime worthy of death in Kira's eyes. In Light's eyes.
"You'll regret this," Light whispered, same as he did every night.
"Never," L growled back. "Kira deserves this."
"I'm not Kira."
They twisted in synch, all too used to this deadly dance. Faces brushed, eyes locked, hips collided. Light hissed as nails bit into his lower back. He knew where this was going. How it would end. Crying, shouting, begging mercy...it might have touched the justice within L. But Light refused, despite it being the most logical path. When it came to L...common sense sometimes failed him.
There were many things Light knew he should do—should have done in the past—but as he stared into the unreflecting black of his once idol's eyes, he bent.
It was the only way to save himself from shattering.
Because if he allowed himself weakness now, that was exactly what would happen.
Pride long stripped away, Light found it disturbingly simple to make his choice.
He pressed his lips against L's cool ones, spooking the detective for the briefest of instants. Then those icy hands seized him tightly, branding skin with skin.
Pulling back, Light let out a soft gasp.
"Why? Why do you...?"
"Because Light is Kira."
"And if I'm not?"
L slipped a hand down the front of Light's pants.
"I'm never wrong."
Come morning, Light would button his high-collared shirt to hide the stain of mottled blue and yellow. He would comb shower fresh hair sleekly into place. He would assumed his usual position at the computers, searching through endless files, seeking a pattern...a truth. He would smile when prompted, laugh when needed and otherwise remain his quiet yet friendly self. It did not matter that he was twisted in knots on the inside. He could untie himself when the case was done and Kira caught.
When he proved his innocence, he would make sure L suffered.
Until then-
"I hate you."
"I know."
-Light Yagami refused to break.
-fin-
A/N: (Thank you for reading. Like it, love it, hate it? Leave a review. Feedback is highly important.)