Chapter Text

Groggy and disoriented, Near opened his eyes. Where am I? Last he knew, he'd been walking into the bedroom, but he couldn't remember sitting down. His clothes felt different, too—looser, lighter—and something stiff dug into his wrists and ankles. Grimacing, he tried to move his arms, but the pressure on his wrists held them together.

Plastic. Zip ties.

Janus.

Understanding spilled over him like cold water, rousing him completely. Looking around, he found Kira slumped over before the radiator, a rubber ball gag dangling from his neck and both hands hidden behind his back. Someone had stripped him of his coat and suit jacket, but the rest of his clothing remained—though the pants were noticeably wet. Near shifted in his chair, keenly aware of his own full bladder.

"Yagami?"

The man blinked and raised his head, offering Near a sickly smile. "You're awake."

"What happened to you?"

"Janus." Kira's voice was soft—hoarse, even—but ripe with disgust. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," lied Near. "How long was I—?"

"I don't know. It's been dark for a while, but my sense of time…" Light wet his lip. "I think it's after midnight."

Thursday, then. Christmas Day. Near glanced down at himself and realized he was back in his customary pajamas. "Tell me she didn't."

"What, strip you? She did. But that really isn't—"

"Not important. Yes, I know."

Near's eyes darted around the room, taking stock of their situation. A folding table and a second chair stood against the nearby wall, but beyond that the room was unfurnished. The door was closed but likely unlocked, though he could only test that theory if he could reach it. Which he couldn't.

What do I do?

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Light nodded, his ashen face calling him a liar. "She had a little too much fun with my collar, but I'm fine now. As fine as I can be handcuffed to a serial killer's radiator, anyway."

"The collar?"

"She had the controls, Near. I had her all figured out, and then…" Light trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."

Not as sorry as I am. He'd assumed the police had taken custody of the clicker and key fob at the scene, but the idea of Janus knowing to look for them had never crossed his mind—nor could he have done anything, if he had. Thanks to the safeguards he himself had designed, the only way to remove the collar without the fob would have been to break the lock apart as quickly as possible and pray the ongoing shock didn't do Light a permanent injury.

"It's not your fault," he said. "It's me she got the jump on first, not you. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. Really. Just a bit—shaken."

"Understandably so. Where is she now?"

"Out. She left to dispose of the collar a while ago, to make sure Rester and the rest don't follow us here. I tried yelling, but I'm pretty sure the neighbors aren't home." Light bit his lip. "What the hell do we do?"

I don't know. Near wiggled his fingers, itching to give his hair a sharp tug. "We wait," he said. "Wait, and hope an opportunity presents itself. Unless you can slip out of those handcuffs, of course."

Light smiled. "I wish. Sorry to disappoint you, but I really was joking."

"That's a shame."

"I know."

Downstairs, a door slammed.

Oh, no.

For just a moment, they met each other's eyes. Then Light looked away. "Don't let her think you care what happens to me," he said. "She thinks we've been working together all along. Don't give her the excuse."

Before Near could answer, Janus appeared in the doorway. Well, she's cleaned herself up. Gone were the glasses and acne blotches, but the freckles remained, as did the androgynous, brown-dyed hair. In lieu of her boyish coat, she now wore a white blouse and skinny jeans, and her lips were a deep, bloody red. In one latex-gloved hand, she carried a tote bag; in the other, she held a knife. When she realized both men were staring at her, she smiled.

"Happy Christmas, gentlemen," she said, setting the bag down on the table. "Are you hungry?"

Near glared. "No."

"I was talking to Kira," she said. "It takes six to eight hours for food to pass through a person's stomach, and you, Near, don't have that long."

"And he does?"

Janus ignored him. "Kira?"

No answer.

"You really should eat something, you know. After the mess you made on my carpet, I can't imagine there's much left in there to digest."

Light raised his head, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "It takes six to eight weeks to die of starvation, and—unless I miss my guess—I, Kira, don't have that long."

"Fair enough." Dragging another chair to the center of the room, she spun it around and sat backwards, cocking her head at them. "You two aren't much of a party, you know."

"Be fair. You're not much of a host," said Near.

Janus shrugged. "We could play a game."

Hairs rose on the back of Near's neck. "What sort of game?"

"Twenty questions. Well, fifteen questions, technically. It's simple. You ask me anything you like, and I'll answer truthfully. Once you've asked me fifteen questions…" She tapped her knife against the back of the chair, raising an eyebrow to underscore her meaning. "The game is over."

If you can't win the game, if you can't solve the puzzle… Near's hands clenched uselessly, straining against their plastic bindings. "For Light Yagami as well?"

"No. Only for you. That's question one."

"I never agreed to play."

"I never said the game was optional."

"What happens if I refuse?" Near asked.

"Once enough time has passed, I'll declare it a forfeit. Same result." Her smile widened. "That's question two."

Light cleared his throat. "Out of curiosity, if I ask a question—"

"I'll stuff that gag right back between your lying teeth," she said. "I'm playing with Near now. You'll get your turn."

Thirteen questions left. The longer Near could delay and keep her talking the better. Gevanni, Lidner, and Rester are in London by now, I hope, and they know I had suspicions about this place. It's a slim chance, but it's a chance. He glanced over at his fellow captive, but Light's face revealed none of his thoughts. Thirteen questions. Thirteen.

"Why?" Near asked.

"Why what? You'll have to be more specific. Why this game? Why this case?"

"Yes."

Janus arched an eyebrow. "Are you trying to trick an extra question from me?"

Why shouldn't I? Near began to reply, but caught himself just in time. Knowing Janus, she'd count rhetorical questions against his total, too. "Perhaps."

"Clever, but no. Rephrase the question. Why what?"

"Why this game?"

"Two reasons. For one thing, I'm killing some time. Forensic estimations of time of death only narrow it down to a window of several hours. If I kill you too soon after midnight, it won't be completely clear that you died today." Her voice was disturbingly cheerful, as if she were discussing a television show rather than the impending murder of the man she addressed. "More importantly, though, this is a punishment. If you don't understand why I'm doing it, there's no point."

Near thought hard, fighting to keep his focus. "Am I correct in—scratch that. It seems logical to assume that I'll get longer answers for questions you like, and shorter answers for questions you don't."

"You're correct in that assumption, but phrasing your questions as statements still counts. Four down, eleven to go."

Damn. Near paused again, drawing out his consideration as long as he could.

"You're not fooling me, Near," she said coldly. "Piss or get off the pot."

"Fine. This punishment you mention. What is it?"

"Once you run out of questions, I'll sedate you, then administer a potassium chloride injection directly into your heart. I can't guarantee it will be painless, but it should be humane. After that, I'll take your corpse into the bathroom, pose it appropriately, then take Light to another house of mine for safekeeping. Oh, and I'll call the police, of course. No point in killing you if they don't find you, right?"

A cold shiver prickled down Near's spine. "Why are you doing this?"

"Another excellent question. Because of L, of course. After everything he sacrificed, the least he deserves is for the world to know his name and story, not to be blamed for your mistakes. I never intended to harm you, at first—just to let the world know the truth—but when I realized you've been using Kira to solve your cases—"

"I told you, that's not true," Light interrupted, his voice rising. "I haven't—"

"Manners, Kira. No one was talking to you." Janus tapped the knife against her knuckles for emphasis, and Light lapsed back into angry silence. "As I was saying, I'd been cutting you the benefit of the doubt—that Roger and the others had pushed you into the role, and that you were largely a pawn in their game. You were still young, after all. But to allow L's killer to live, let alone employ him to help you steal L's name? That's unforgivable, Near. For that, you deserve to die."

Five questions down. "Did the others deserve to die, too? Noah Rogers and the rest? If all you wanted was for the world to know the truth, why not simply write an exposé? Why murder?"

"I'm hearing several questions there, but I'll be kind and score it as two. If I didn't immediately jump to killing you, what makes you think I jumped to killing them? I did write an account of L's life, including the truth about his death, and showed it to Roger for approval. He gave me a scolding, confiscated my computer, and destroyed everything. For invading L's privacy, he said, but I knew the truth. L's enterprise is how Wammy's House makes its money, after all, especially now that Wammy's dead. That's why I left."

She paused, brushing her hair back from her eyes. "My second try was more indirect. Remember B? I thought the true crime I wrote about his case was excellent, even if I did take some liberties with the names. I wrote it in Mello's voice for thematic resonance—you have to admit, they had a lot in common—but it let me work in references to L's death and the issue of successorship, too. I had a publisher all lined up, but again, Roger found out and quashed it. It was disrespectful of me to appropriate Mello's identity, he said—all while helping you appropriate L's. I had a good laugh over that." She shrugged. "It wasn't a total waste, though. All that research certainly gave me a few ideas."

"I've noticed," said Near, his voice acidic. "You claim I deserve to die for disrespecting L's sacrifice, but you do the same to Mello? You've got some nerve."

Janus snorted. "Please. L was a detective; Mello was a killer. A friend, once, but still a killer. It's not the same at all."

"So are you."

"On a much lesser scale than him, yes—and your new pet dwarfs both our body counts combined. Strange how ready you are to make excuses for him, but not for me." She tilted her head, pouting. "A girl might almost think you were sexist."

This time, Near didn't rise to the bait. Six questions to go. Glancing over at Light, he asked the first question that came to mind. "If I deserve to die for imprisoning him rather than killing him, what do you plan to do with him?"

"Oh?" Janus raised her eyebrows. "Is that concern I hear?"

Yes. "Just curiosity."

"I see. In that case, I plan to extract a full, undeniable, video or audio-recorded confession from him by whatever means necessary, both regarding his crimes and your actions, to be left for the public with his corpse. Then I'll execute him next Thursday, using the same method I used on you." She flashed Light a bestial smile. "Though in his case, I may skip the sedation. There's a poetic justice to his dying of cardiac arrest, you know. It would be a shame for him not to experience it to the full."

Near bit his lip, rocking ever so slightly against his bonds. I can't think like this. I need to move. There had to be some way out, some way to persuade her, but his mind kept drawing blanks. I need to think.

"What if," he began, "what if I agreed to film a confession myself, if you turn Kira over to the proper authorities instead? Surely the truth would be more convincing coming from me, rather than a torture victim, and I know details of Wammy's House he doesn't. And according to the Japanese, L intended to leave Kira's punishment in the hands of the authorities anyway, so you'll be doing what L would have wanted." Swallowing, he forced himself to meet her eyes. "You have to admit, it makes more sense."

"More sense to you. If I turn him over to the authorities without proof, he'll find a way to slip out of their grasp for certain, and I won't have proof until I can film your admission. That means I'll have to drag both of you back to my hiding place until I can get everything set up, allowing you two more time to conspire or be rescued. I may not have been successor-track, Near, but I'm not a fool."

"Well, you could have fooled me," said Light. "You do realize the SPK and Wammy's will hunt you down for this, right? You might have us tied up, but you're a dead bitch walking. I'd pay good money to see Lidner tear you apart."

Janus frowned. "Be quiet, Kira."

"Or what?" Light snapped, his handcuffs clanking against the radiator. "You'll torture me? You'll kill me? You've already made that much clear!"

Sickened and helpless, Near watched her rise from her chair. "Leave him alone," he said. "What does it matter? He can't do anything to you. Leave him alone."

Janus ignored him. Grabbing Light by the hair, she jerked his head back, pressing the tip of her knife against his cheekbone an inch below his eye.

"It matters because Kira will be in my custody for another week, and I don't care to be annoyed for that long. The sooner this little power struggle ends, the happier both of us will be." A thin bead of red ran down Light's cheek, and Janus eased back slightly. "I need your body to be recognizable, but I don't need it to have two eyes. Do I make myself clear?"

Light set his jaw. "Perfectly."

"Good." With a flick of her wrist, Janus opened a gash across his cheek.

Near squeezed his eyes shut at Light's howl of pain, desperate to cover his ears and block everything out. I have to move, I have to stim, I have to move, I need to move… Whimpering, he rocked back and forth as far as his restraints would allow, thumping rhythmically against the back of his chair.

"Don't be childish," Janus's voice scolded him. "You've seen blood before."

He heard her only vaguely, as though through water. Unable to form a reply, he continued to rock, his hums and squeals of distress only growing louder.

"Nate." The name cut through Near's distress, making him pause. Light's voice. "Nate, it's all right. You're okay."

"Kira, I warned you—"

"So poke my eye out later! I'm trying to calm him down for you, damn it. Do you want him to play your game or not?" A pause. "Nate. I promise. You're fine. I'm fine. Breathe, all right? Breathe."

Near hummed, shaking his head furiously.

"Nate, please. It's all right."

It's not all right. It's not. Slowly, Near turned his head to face Light. "All right. All right?"

Light nodded and cracked a weak smile, his head pressed against his shoulder in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "We're all right."

"All right," Near echoed. "Yes. I am—I'm all right."

"Thank you, Kira. That was very helpful." Marching over to Light, Janus tossed the knife aside and grabbed the gag around his neck. "Open your mouth."

Light raised his head, one side of his face a ghoulish, bloody mask. "You're still going to—?"

"Or I could follow through on my threat. Your choice."

All the fight drained from Light's face, and he obeyed, submitting meekly to being gagged once more. Near looked away, struggling to regain his composure. Three questions left. Any possibility of rescue or reprieve for himself was too remote to hope for, but he couldn't bring himself to resign the game. Lidner would never forgive me. Nor would Roger. Near wasn't one to believe in an afterlife, but he couldn't rule it out, either. If there were any chance of meeting his mentor again, the last thing Near wanted was another scolding.

"After we're dead, what will you do?" he asked quietly. "Will you go on killing?"

"I hadn't planned on it, no. If Wammy's House tries to prop up another fake in your place somehow, I'll be back, but short of that…I haven't thought it all out, really. I'll disappear and change identities for certain, but beyond that, I don't know. Work in IT, I suppose, or theater tech. I'm no Kira. I'll be just as happy to remain obscure."

Crack.

Both Near and Janus startled at the sound. Grimacing, Light arched his back, squirming uncomfortably against the radiator.

"Stiff back?" Janus asked sweetly.

Light nodded. Are those tears in his eyes? The man had every right to cry, but the Light Yagami Near knew would never have let Janus see him do it. Not unless he had given up.

Near tried not to think about that.

"Poor baby. Just hold on a bit longer. Once we're done here, I'll take you somewhere more comfortable." She turned her attention back to Near. "Last question. Make it count."

Last question. Last chance. Forcing himself to look Janus square in the eye, he asked, "Do you honestly believe L would approve of what you're doing? That the man who arrested B and gave his life hunting Kira would ever put a crazy serial killer in charge of his legacy?"

"That's two questions, Near, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt. I'm not trying to take charge of his legacy, merely to let it stand on its own. You, on the other hand, perverted his legacy, sold the world a pack of lies, and ran L's reputation into the ground. He sacrificed everything in pursuit of justice, and no one even knows or cares that he died. Because of you. Both of you. Call me whatever you like, but I choose to think he'd be more disappointed in that." Solemn-faced, she rose from her chair. "And that's the end."

Near was silent, fixing his eyes on the ceiling as she rummaged through her bag. Though he could hear his pulse racing in his ears, he felt eerily calm. It's over. He wiggled his fingers behind him, wishing he could tangle them in his hair, but he knew Janus would never allow it. People say hair keeps growing after death, but that's a myth. It is one of the last things to decompose, though. Flesh, then hair, then bone…

He made a face as Janus pressed the holly wreath onto his head, the dagger-sharp leaves pricking and scratching him. "For what it's worth, I always liked you," she said quietly, bending to unbutton his shirt. "You weren't very approachable, but you weren't arrogant. I could see that. It wasn't fair, the pressure they put on you. But nothing ever is." She studied his face a moment, her eyes full of pity. "I'm sorry things had to turn out this way."

As am I.

Gently, she pulled his shirt apart, baring one shoulder for injection, then returned to her table for the syringe. Distantly, Near could hear Light's labored breathing, interspersed with soft grunts of pain—or perhaps of protest. He still has a chance, at least. Lidner will blame him, but she'll be out for Janus's blood, and the others won't be far behind. Keeping him is a recent addition to her plan, so she can't have been as careful about covering her tracks. There's a chance. No matter what, though, Kira would outlive Near. There was an odd, bitter humor in that.

Mama, I'm scared…

Janus was back again, syringe in hand, her lips curved in a false, clinical smile. Shivering, Nate closed his eyes and waited for the end to come.

It didn't.

Near heard a wet, squelching sound, then a choking gasp of pain. Opening his eyes, he found himself face to face with Light.

How…?

With a grunt, Light plunged the knife between Janus's ribs once more, then tossed it aside. Clawing one-handed at the buckle of his gag, he at last managed to loosen it, tugging the ball free from his mouth and gulping noisily for air.

"Light?"

Light Yagami didn't answer. Doubling over, he retched up a thin stream of bile, then reached once more for the knife.

"Light, are you—?"

Near's voice died in his throat as Kira looked at him, the killer's eyes cold and hard. All too late, Near remembered what Light had told him: Janus had taken his collar away. He doesn't have a tracker. He can run for it now, and I can't stop him. If he leaves me alive, I can hunt him down, but if he doesn't—

Grim-faced, Kira rose to his feet, the knife gripped tightly in his hand. For a moment, he studied Near in silence. Then he took a step toward the chair.

He's going to kill me.

Near squirmed against his bindings, all the calm he'd felt as Janus approached him gone in an instant. His pulse surged in his ears like rushing water, old memories rising to choke his protests in his throat. Dying at Janus's hands had felt inevitable, but dying at Light's…dying just as he thought he'd been rescued…

Please no. Please no. Please no.

Without a word, Kira walked behind the chair, looming outside Near's range of view. Verging on panic, the detective bit his lip, willing himself not to lose control again.

Please no…

The zip tie binding his wrists began to vibrate.

"Well, that was a near thing," Light said softly. "Hold still. I'm just cutting you out."

Dumbfounded, Near blinked in surprise. "Hold…still?"

"I mean it. I'll probably cut you if you move. I've only got one good hand, remember?"

"The crack," Near said, realization dawning.

"Yes."

"You broke your thumb to slip out of the handcuffs."

"Didn't have much choice, did I? That hand wasn't doing me much good, anyway." Near wiggled his fingers, desperate to stim, but Light rapped his hand with the butt of the knife. "Stop it. This is hard enough without you moving."

"Sorry." But why? Even if Light didn't want to kill him, he could have simply fled. He had no tracker now, after all, and Near was in no position to follow him anytime soon. Killing Janus saved his own life, too, but he has no reason to cut me free. I never gave him one, so why…?

The zip tie parted, and Near jerked his hands away. Grimacing, he chafed his wrists, trying to erase the tight plastic from his sense memory. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Try not to kick me."

Kneeling, Light set to work on Near's feet, sawing through the bonds that held them to the chair. Blood still oozed down his ashen face where Janus had slashed him, and his teeth were bared in a grimace of pain. Near sucked in a breath.

"You look terrible," he said.

"I'm fine."

"No, you aren't. Once I'm free, I'll call you an ambulance."

"No."

"Light—"

"If you take me to the ER, they're going to ask questions. Questions that end with me in prison, if not on death row. Once they realize I'm not actually Matsuda and the NPA didn't send me, how long do you think it'll take before they figure out the rest?" Light shook his head. "I appreciate the thought, but I'm not letting Janus win to balm your conscience. Not now."

"It's not conscience. Just concern." Near's voice was still too shaky to be imposing, but his expression tried its best to make up for it. "You need a hospital."

"I survived five bullets. A broken thumb won't kill me."

"But it will hurt. I'm offering you painkillers, Light."

For a moment, Light said nothing, sawing away at Near's bonds in silence. At last, he said softly, "It's not the first time I've done without."

The plastic gave way, but neither man moved—one enthroned on his chair, the other kneeling at his feet. Looking down, Near could see the blistered flesh peeking out of Light's turtleneck, the blood on his face, the skinned, mangled mess of his right hand. What can I possibly say to him? Light's rescue of Near might nullify his murder attempt in the Yellow Box, but not the hundred thousand other murders in which he'd played a part. Justice and logic demanded he return to his cell, and Light had to know it. Whatever Near's personal feelings, whatever Light's sacrifice, nothing had changed.

But it has.

"Why didn't you do it?" Near asked softly.

"I promised Lidner."

"You don't give a damn about Lidner."

"I don't give a damn about you, either." Tossing the knife aside, Light wiped his good hand on his shirt. "Yet here we are."

Here we are. Prying off his holly crown, Near rose unsteadily to his feet. "Look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, Light raised his head.

"I can't take you anywhere looking like that, but if we wait here, there's a chance the police will find us before my team does. I won't take you to the hospital, but I do need to go make a phone call. If I ask you to trust me, just this once—will you do it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes."

Light looked away again, his lip between his teeth. At last, he nodded. "All right."

"Good. Go back over by the radiator, all right?"

Crossing to Janus's side, Near knelt and rolled the body over. With her eyes closed, she looked almost harmless—more like Bertie than the killer she'd really been. How much of that was really acting, I wonder? He couldn't bring himself to regret her death, but part of him wondered if he should. After all, Light had once tried to kill him, too.

When did I start thinking of him as Light?

Grimacing, Near rummaged through her pocket until he found the handcuff key, then went to secure Light's empty cuff around one of the pipes. "I'm sorry to have to do this."

Light shook his head wearily, his voice lifeless and dull. "No, I understand. Just—hurry, okay?"

A few weeks earlier, the defeat in Light's tone would have thrilled Near no end. Now, it merely stung. "I will."

"Good." Cradling his broken hand to his chest, Light closed his eyes. "I'll be here."

I know.

Turning his back on both killers—the living and the dead—Near walked away in search of help.