Chapter Text
The bells floated out from the Winchester Cathedral over the moor. The landscape was a barren, dull, brown, the morning frost having long since melted into the mud.
L Lawliet stared as long as he could stand its emptiness while Wammy set up the machinery. It felt like penance, seeing the flicker of memories of the boy on the moor.
"I know you're worried, L," Wammy addressed the screen rather than his face.
"It makes no difference."
"I apologize for my decision. It was a snap judgment. I was worried about your identity."
"I understand. It was necessary to send in the best operatives," L said evenly. He felt further and further from that list every day.
"L--"
"Please make the call," L sat himself down, scrunching his toes into the velvet of the chair. He had enough sleep and sugar in him to feel like himself. Enough to act like himself, too. Wammy's mustache worried slightly, but he caught L's eyes and nods.
They were both checking his eyes a lot these days.
"Look who's on my screen again," the arms dealer, whose name had eluded L for months drawled lazily on the other line, “To what do I owe this honour?”
“You seem surprised.”
“I suppose they call you ‘the greatest’ for a reason.” L flinched a little at that particular choice of words. He was glad that Wammy had left by now.
"You believed you had caught me. How terribly naive," L noted that his hands were shaking, as they hadn't in months. It was a familiar tick. Better that than his voice. At least his liar's timbre was still intact.
"I thought it was a bit beneath you to hide behind teenagers. And still hiding,” Good then. They did not believe they had found L.
They shouldn’t have found anyone at all. The thought was an insidious whisper, and L forced it to the dark recess of his mind. The case was everything, now.
"You had nothing to offer. I had no reason to show myself."
"We both know that isn't true."
L bit his nail. This was what they prepared for, "I am prepared to offer an exchange. I will meet with you-- personally-- to secure the evidence necessary to implicate the cluster bomb manufacturer. In exchange I offer your immunity for the next three months with respect to the shipment of stolen Brownings. I’m sure you can clean that up by then.”
“That seems plenty of time. When?” there was just enough eagerness for L to know he had offered them the right trade. That much was safe.
“December 23. You can choose the location,” Rhetorical, L knew where he was going to choose before he said a word.
"Well, well. Christmas coming early," the arms dealer smiles on the other line, “It’ll be in Queens. You should see the address now.
L glanced at the second LCD screen, the text coming up as expected, “Understood.”
“I look forward to meeting you--L.”
The familiar letter seemed like an accusation glowing at him on the screen. L reacted, too slowly again, shut it down.
The stage was set.
It was beginning to rain outside, not cold enough to turn into the sleet that was promised by the forecast. L was thankful that it blurred his view out the window to something more unrecognizable.
On the corner of his desk lay two wrapped gifts, blue and gold with simple white ribbon. Normally there would be more decor in his room, but L couldn’t bring himself to do it alone.
Three days, he’d said, and looked L in the eyes before he left. Three days.
L scraped his knuckle along his teeth. Small comfort that it was the shortest day of the year. It most certainly felt like the longest.