Work Text:
Two days after Watari’s murder and Rem’s vanishment.
The situation in the HQ is bordering on chaotic.
Their data is gone, they have an extra Death Note in their hands, they didn’t get any useful information about the gods of death and can’t get any more without Rem around, and most importantly, Kira had come back.
Nonstop talking, footsteps left and right, mouse clicking, occasional typing, pages being turned, the obnoxious sound of Light clicking his pen, the strong scent of coffee as Matsuda brings a tray with a bottle and mugs. Now, the sound of the cups clinking and the coffee being poured and someone opening the metal sugar bowl – they dropped the lid, the noise is unnecessarily loud. A splashing sound. Now Aizawa is complaining. Mogi holds back a chuckle but it can be heard nonetheless. Slurping, more footsteps, more page turning, more clicking, more typing, more noise, more scent, more, more, more.
Sitting on an office chair, legs pulled up, L feels like he’s going crazy.
His exceptional brain can’t even process anything clearly anymore.
How many people are here besides him anyway? Five?
How can five people make so much noise while just… being there, just working?
His fingers move involuntarily, pinching and grabbing one another.
Are they really that loud or is it just him who’s overreacting?
Wammy used to tell him that.
“You are overreacting, L.”
“A good detective should be able to work under any circumstances.”
Being dramatic or not, his head hurts.
“Try a little harder."
A lot.
Light clicks his pen more frequently now.
"You need to focus on the case.”
He can feel his throat tightening.
Not now.
He looks down.
“L, breathe."
His heart is pounding.
Not now.
His ears ring.
Not now.
"Make an effort. A high IQ is not the only thing that makes a detective remarkable.”
He forces his eyes shut, trying to breathe.
NOT NOW.
He can feel his limbs shaking.
Hands and feet freezing up.
Is it noticeable?
Can they see him trembling?
Can they?
There’s a tap on his shoulder.
Yes.
He opens his eyes and everybody’s staring.
Worry, curiosity, shock, annoyance.
He can sense it all.
Someone leans over him, voice soft.
“Ryuuzaki, is everything–”
No.
Not now.
Not now.
NOT NOW.
Before he knows it, he’s bolting out of the room, running up the stairs.
Bewildered voices are heard from the office. He doesn’t know what they’re saying.
Peace and quiet.
That’s all he needs.
Peace.
Quiet.
A door shuts behind himself.
The room is claustrophobic, he can hear his own loud, heavy breathing.
Is it that small or is he just overreacting?
Hands shoot out to his hair and his body leans against a wall for support.
Knees give out.
He sits down on the floor, feeling warm tears slide down his face.
He wails.
The wall is cold.
He shudders.
His sobs get louder.
He can feel every point where his clothes touch his body.
His hair sticks to his forehead.
He whimpers.
His skin itches.
It's too much.
His sleeves are wet from wiping tears.
They stick to his wrists.
It's too much
It's too much.
It’s too much.
Matsuda rushes up the stairs, looking around for any sign of L.
The others are still in the office, working but mostly waiting for him to come back.
He walks into the hallway.
A particularly loud wail comes out of the storage room door.
He winces and walks towards it, knocking lightly.
“Ryuu?"
Another loud sob.
He gulps.
Hesitates before slowly opening the door.
It's a large room, with a few shelves and closets. Storage room, as mentioned.
L can be seen sitting on the floor, curled up on a corner between a wall and a box.
He's trembling like a leaf, hands buried in his messy hair, shifting and fidgeting nonstop. His sobs have quieted down, but are still frequent and desperate.
Matsuda closes the door and approaches the man, kneeling down beside him. He starts moving his hand, stops himself, pulls back, then tries moving it back forward and pulls back again.
He knows about L's restrictions and sensitivities.
He knows that the sound of the office chair creaking annoys him deeply.
That unnecessary slurping when drinking something makes his blood boil.
That he doesn't wear tight clothes because it makes it hard to breathe – even when the clothes in question are normal skinny jeans or just a shirt made with a different kind of fabric.
And that he usually tries to ignore all of this until he reaches a breaking point.
But the thing is, he's never seen him reach his breaking point, and they've known each other for a year.
Touta moves to sit down beside him, back leaning against the wall.
He can't blame him.
All of that, plus Watari’s sudden death… he must be distraught.
The man gasps for air, sobs intensifying for a second.
Were he and that old man that close? He always thought they were just coworkers.
He hesitantly pats his back. Thankfully, L doesn't react badly to that.
Does he have some kind of disorder…?
He leans in slightly closer, whispering comforting words, staring to rub his back gently when he feels like the man is recovering most of his senses.
… No, that sounded mean.
After a few seconds, L gently pushes his arm off.
“No…”
Matsuda nods, doing as told and leaning back against the wall.
L is still shuddering and sniffling, but has significantly calmed down.
"... Was it the noise?”
"Hm?”
“That made you… you know, freak out?”
"... I.. don’t know.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Unngh..”
“Water?”
“No...”
“Something to nibble on?”
“No.”
“... Maybe some–”
“Quiet.”
Matsuda immediately shuts up.
He moves away slightly but keeps sitting there. Being too close could worsen things, but leaving is also not a good option.
L sniffles, hugging his knees and pressing his forehead against them.
It’s been a few years since he last broke down like this.
Actually, he’s kind of lucky.
Last time, he cried for almost an hour straight.
Watari couldn’t bring comfort no matter how much he tried.
And he ended up lashing out too.
Grabbed his arm.
Said hurtful things.
He shudders.
He felt like a child.
A whiny, annoying child.
Matsuda glances at him out of the corner of his eye, checking if he’s still crying.
They’ve only known each other for a year, but Matsuda has never made him feel like this.
He can be stressful and difficult to deal with sometimes, but he has good intentions.
And it’s not like he himself is not stressful and difficult to deal with either.
Just in different ways.
Matsuda makes him realize that he is also human.
After a few minutes, he takes a shaky breath and motions for the other to come closer.
Once their shoulders are touching, he leans in, grabbing onto his yellow tie and resting his head on the crook of his neck.
He can feel Touta tense up for a second before sighing and wrapping his arms around his hunched back.
The man’s other hand comes up to his hair, stroking lightly.
He closes his eyes, hands mindlessly playing with his tie.
He’s warm.
“Feeling better?”
L lifts his head, looking at the man’s face.
He looks worried, but smiles a little to comfort him.
He nods.
“... I think I would like the glass of water now….’
A low chuckle.
They slowly stand up. L’s legs feel like jelly, and he holds Matsuda’s arm for support as they walk out of the room.
Thank god, no one had tried to go after them.
Faint talking is heard from the main hall, but it seems to be about something else.
They get to the kitchen. Matsuda fills a glass with water and they sit on the stools next to each other.
He takes a few sips and moves closer, leaning his head against the officer’s shoulder.
An arm moves to wrap around his waist, caressing gently.
The silence is comfortable.
“... I apologise.”
“Aww, it’s fine, Ryuu. You can reach out to me anytime.”
“Are you sure? I interrupted your work.”
“I would rather have my work interrupted than leaving you to suffer alone up here.”
"... Thank you, Touta-san.”
He goes back to playing with his tie, sighing in content.
"Your presence pleases me.”
Matsuda laughs out loud, nuzzling him back.
"Well, ‘your presence pleases me’ too.”
They sit there together for a while.
It feels nice, so nice.