damned_institute | Nightshift 35: Disciplinary Therapy Room 2 [M-U for L]

When L came to, the first thing he became aware of was the cold solid surface at his back and the sensation of being pressed down against it. This was not his bed. Was he on the floor? Had he been knocked out? He remembered no such thing. This wasn’t right. What had happened to him? Where was he? He opened his eyes to see if he could figure it out, but he regretted the action immediately as he was only greeted by blurred vision bright light.

L squinted, and turned his head away, willing the disoriented feelings to subside. Once everything cleared he was able to put everything together. He had selected for one of the institute’s sleep studies. Certainly not something he had wanted to wake up to. But now that he had, he at least knew it was unlikely that he would have to wake up to it again. He had never heard of a patient being selected twice. Not that this was comforting. Perhaps they weren’t selected a second time because they didn’t need to be… Or the large patient population made it difficult for someone to be selected on more than one occasion.

L slightly moved his head seeking his torturer. The doctor didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight. Maybe they were out of the room at the moment? Or perhaps they standing somewhere in the dark. The light above him was only illuminating the examining table he was on. Try as he might, he couldn’t see anything beyond it.

But still, if by some luck they were gone he might just be able to do something. L carefully tested his restraints, finding that his wrists were being held tightly by metal clasps and his body was strapped firmly down against the table. He was unable to move at all. Obviously any attempt to escape by breaking his hand or dislocating his shoulder would be a wasted effort. The only thing the doctor allowed for free movement was his head.

Ah. He was awake. The doctor simply observed for a moment, waiting, watching as the subject adjusted to his surroundings. There were no frantic struggles. No cries of terror, no demands. Only simple, methodical testing. Just as expected.

Wonderful.

"Welcome to the world of the waking," the doctor said, smoothly, from the darkness of the room. "I do hope you're...comfortable."

So it appeared that the doctor was here after all, likely just waiting for him to wake up. L didn’t bother looking in the direction of the man’s smug voice. The doctor could be moving. Fixing his attention at one point would be useless.

L was familiar with this kind of setup. The lighting and unseen interrogator was a intimidation technique often used by the government. It was meant to emotionally and mentally wear down the subject. “I am sure I’ll be made progressively less comfortable as the night continues regardless of the answer I provide.” He said calmly.

The doctor chuckled.

"You do not disappoint," he said. Movement could be heard behind the subject's head. The sound of metal against metal. Surgical supplies? Something less sinister? Or perhaps more?

"I have been looking forward to this, Mr. Lawliet. I've been looking forward to this a great deal."

L tried his best to ignore the activity going on behind him. Whatever the doctor was doing didn’t matter at the moment. He’d end up facing whatever it was in due time, and letting his imagination fill in the blanks would only increase his anxiety. Above all else he needed to remain calm.

He was aware that his doctor was just trying to push his buttons. Testing him to see what kind of things would cause him to react. Despite knowing this L’s calm, neutral expression almost wavered when he heard his name spoken. His real name. Not the countless identities that he had assumed, not the name the institute had given him, but the name known only to himself and the shinigami of his world. He had expected the doctors to know about him. But something like this disturbed him quite a bit. Exactly how much did they know?

The noises stopped, and footsteps could be heard approaching the table to which the patient was strapped.

"Now...where to begin?" And where indeed? Oh, the preperation steps were all the same, but once the mind had been...weakened, where to start? There were so many options.

The doctor was at the patient's head, behind him. He reached down and placed his palm on the subject's forehead.

"Before we begin, of course, let's make sure you're ready, hmm?"

L knew that the doctor was behind him by the sound of the footsteps, but he tensed at the unexpected touch of his forehead. It was difficult to fight off the impulse to turn his head away, especially since his head was the only thing he could move.

He still couldn’t see the doctor, and still had no idea what the man was planning to do to him but if he was holding his head in place and talking about preparing him there were only so many options…

"Just relax," the doctor urged, though there was little reassurance or soothing in his voice. "Soon you won't mind my ministrations much at all."

Finally, the patient was given a small glimpse of his tormentor. Just a hand, hidden in a surgical glove, bearing a large needle. Dark green liquid swirled inside the syringe, unfamiliar and noxious looking.

That didn’t sound good. And judging by the response, the doctor noticed his discomfort at being touched. L needed to focus on something other than the hand on his head. Unfortunately all he had available was the needle in the doctor’s hand.

“I seriously doubt that is an analgesic.” L said looking at the needle and the unidentified substance contained within it. “Interesting that you do not trust your skills enough to proceed without drugs.”

The doctor chuckled, though it may have seemed slightly strained to the subject's ears.

"Would a surgeon perform his work without the aid of an anesthetic? I think not." The needle came down, slowly, until the tip was pressed against L's temple.

"Just relax. Soon you'll feel much better."

Clearly the man was stalling in an attempt to prolong the physical contact he was making with L’s head. That one small sign of discomfort L had shown earlier had offered the man a button to push. He was aware that the doctor wanted to get another reaction from him. Because of this, as much as he wanted to jerk his head away, he refrained.

“There are always circumstances and cases in which a surgeon cannot or will not use anesthetics.” L responded keeping his expression relaxed and unaffected by the doctor’s actions. “And I feel quite well, actually.”

"Then let me rephrase myself," the doctor said, casually. "A good surgeon does not work without anesthetic."

But this was growing tiresome. Now to begin their work.

"Of course you do," the doctor went on, before pushing down the plunger of the needle and jamming it into the patient's temple.

L didn’t get a chance to answer before he felt the needle stabbing into his head. It hurt a lot, and it was difficult to disregard, but he had to be less concerned with the pain and more concerned about the fact that he didn’t know what he was being injected with and how it would affect him.

He kept his breathing and muscles relaxed so the pain he was feeling wouldn’t be evident in his voice, “Exactly what area of the brain will this injection effect?” If the doctor could answer this, he could at least have clue as to what parts of his thoughts and body he needed to monitor.

"Are you sure you'd rather not guess?" The doctor asked, devilishly. "Surely a genius like you may have a few educated guesses, hmm?"

The doctor laughed, withdrawing the syringe once the drug was in the subject. He'd wait and watch for the fear. For the tight control to slip. It would be soon. And then....

Oh yes. Then the true fun would begin.

It was doubtful L would be getting any hints from the man but he needed to keep talking. If he clammed up now it would indicate to the doctor how much the situation could be getting to him. There were too many possibilities to make an educated guess. But the substance had been injected into his temple on the right side. The easiest place to access from that approach was… “Frontal lobe or temporal lobe?”

The doctor just snorted, folding his arms and waiting. Let the subject try and guess. Even his brilliant mind couldn't pull answers from thin air. Soon, soon it would begin to take effect. That weakening of control. That dropping of defenses...

It would be beautiful.

No answer. L decided that it would be a bad idea to ask anything further. Anything he said now would give the man insight into his thought process.

"And how do we feel?" The doctor asked, after a few moments passed. "Hmm?" To be certain, he reached out and ruffled the subject's hair, slowly and deliberately.

The moments passed and L had yet to determine what kind of effect the injection was having on him. But the doctor was waiting for something to happen. When he finally asked L how he was feeling, the detective began to answer only to find his voice suddenly choked off by the contact to his head.

Ignore it. L told himself. He couldn’t give the doctor a reaction. But despite knowing this, and how much he tried to refrain from it, he still jerked his head away in hopes of escaping the unwanted contact.

"I see." The doctor chuckled. "Very good. I believe we're ready to begin, hmm? Won't that be exciting? And where shall we start?" The doctor could be heard pacing behind the subject, footsteps echoing in the small room.

"Let's begin at the beginning, shall we? What do you want to tell me about...oh, I don't know.... Kira? Or should I say, Light Yagami?"

L internally cursed the fact that he had a reacted. But since that is what the doctor seemed to have been looking for, he could only conclude that the injection had something to do with it. But why would they be concerned with a response like that in regards to the Kira case?

“Unfortunately, I can’t say there is anything to tell.” L answered, wondering if the doctor was trying to get information on Light. But what did he know that they didn’t already? Unless there might have been some new development in the institute that he had somehow missed, he could see no reason for it. Was Light gaining so much power and influence here that he was now becoming a concern to the doctors? How could he have missed something like that?

L then realized that he had left his worried expression unchecked. He quickly tried to return it to neutral, but soon found that it was beyond his control.

"Are you certain?" The doctor asked, mock concern coloring his voice.

"You seem...worried. Nervous. Such a pity, isn't it, that you were unable to see him behind bars are you'd sworn to. We can't say you've never failed, now can we? Of course, I suppose I needn't tell you that."

“Quite certain.” The worried expression on his face remained as he realized that he had no control over his emotions at all. And even worse, the doctor was making use of that fact. Gauging his reaction and attacking it in hopes of emotionally wearing him down.

And it was working. The doctor’s words stung. L had prided himself in his success and ability to solve any case he took. He was the world’s greatest detective… was. He had failed, and he had died with his vows unfulfilled. Light had proven to be better than him at everything.

He shuddered a little despite his effort to avoid doing so. It was then that L decided that it would be vital to try and establish some control over himself again. If his emotions were going to betray him, he had to find some way to manipulate them to his liking. This was just another test. The doctor was his opponent.

The Doctor was focusing on the negative. Therefore, his best option would be to remain positive long as he could. Yes, he had failed to put Kira behind bars, but at least L had died content knowing that he had been right all along. He at least had that. He figured out everything. And he had eaten plenty of delicious cake.

"It hurts, doesn't it? Realizing you're a failure. You failed then, and you're failing now, aren't you?" The doctor took a deep breath, almost an inward sigh of pleasure.

"The great detective is nothing here, is he? Just another one of the idiot masses. Just another little pawn in the game. Just another silly little rat, always getting zapped when he reaches for the cheese. Or should I say...cheesecake?"

It didn’t work. There were just not enough positive things to balance out the negative. And the doctor’s words did hurt. “You make a terrible comedian. Are you so sure of that? What do you know of my actions here?” He challenged, even though his voice wavered while he spoke.

The doctor was right. L knew it would not be good to think like that as it would just mean he was playing into the doctor’s hands. But what did he have to show for his time spent here? He had failed at everything he had set out to do. He had gotten nowhere in investigating the institute.

He was useless.

"Oh, I'm sure you've surmised that I know quite a bit," the doctor said, simply.

"Especially about your failures. So many since coming here. And so many yet to come. Tell me something, Mr. Lawliet, does it bother you when your actions result in the deaths of others? It happens so often, of course, but can anyone truly ever harden themselves to that completely? And what about now, hmm? Now that you're no longer the man behind the screen, now that you're their equal, is it harder? Would their deaths hurt more? Your heirs, perhaps? Your woman? Or those not even involved? Simply those you meet and use when necessary, those who are innocent? Because you know failure results in death, don't you? And if you fail.... No, I'm sorry. When you fail....."

Of course it hurt. Regardless of whether or not he won or lost it always was hard when someone under his command died, or when he knowingly sent them to die to ensure his victory. The 12 FBI agents, Naomi, Ukita, Watari, all of them died because he was the one that put them in Kira’s path and in the end he had nothing to show for their sacrifice. He had failed them all.

L lowered his eyelids. He was still putting people in the way of danger. So far Naomi has only ended up with some minor cuts and scrapes, but that could change if she continued to help him. When he failed she might end up a victim again. He couldn’t promise escape. If she lost her life in all of this, it would be for nothing.

"Yes," the doctor said, nodding though he could not be seen. "I can see the pain. The great detective, the great savior, an angel of death under it all. It's only going to happen again, you realize. It's already happening. Can you comprehend the danger you've put those around you in? What will it be like, I wonder, to watch them die before your very eyes. Not on some television screen, but inches away from you. Knowing that without you, without your pride and your selfishness, they may have lived?"

The doctor's voice was like a viper, cruel and taunting, and growing louder as he spoke.

The doctor was right. L shivered at the thought and shut his eyes, trying to turn his thoughts inward. He didn’t want to listen to any more.

"That's right." The doctor chuckled. "Your reign is over. You've run your course. You're obsolete now. And you know it as well as I do. And with Yagami and your heirs here... well, what can you, a washed up failure, do? Other than sit back and watch them triumph where you've failed."

L remained silent as the doctor continued speaking to him. He did know all of this. As far as he was aware he was the only major player in the Kira game that had suffered the ultimate failure of death. Everything he had been was lost as a result. Being brought back to life could do nothing to negate this. He wasn’t L any more than he was Ryuga, or Ryuzaki, or Coil, or Daneuve… or any of the other thousands of names he had taken and used.

Since both his heirs and Light were here, there was no use in him trying to continue his investigation.

"Such a pity." The doctor could be heard retreating. "Well, that serum will last a few hours yet but I believe we're done here." He certainly sounded satisfied. "I think I'll leave you to your...thoughts. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Lawliet."

The restraints drew back, and the doctor's voice was fading, as though he was outside the room.

"If you decide to live through it, of course. If I were you.... Well. You know where the door is."

And as the doctor's voice faded, the lock clicked audibly, leaving the patient alone in the now-empty room.

Once free of the straps L sat up, drew his legs close to his chest, and hugged them tightly. He was shaking in both the events he had just endured and in relief from being released of the straps. It was finally over.

He realized that needed to at least try to regain some control over his emotions but after taking a few deep breaths he found that it was a useless effort. His thoughts regarding what had happened just moments ago teased him.

L hadn’t been in the room for more than half an hour, and the idea of the doctors getting to him so quickly scared him. And the loss of control over his emotions was irritating. He slammed a fist against the table. This was just going to be another failure he could add to the list.

He needed to do something more productive than shivering alone in the dark like this. The monsters could still get him here, and it would be best to go back to his room before anyone saw him like this. L slid off the table and slowly made his way towards the door.

(to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/470731.html))

Nightshift 35: Disciplinary Therapy Room 2 [M-U for L]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject