This Is No Dream

A/N: Written for Light's death-1/28/10. Personally, I agree with Kira's goals...and I agree with how Light acted in the beginning. But once he started mercilessly killing anyone who got in his way, that was the end of any of my respect for him.

Light Yagami always had nightmares (dreams?). Always the same one, and they all left him sitting straight up in bed and drenched in cold sweat, longing for what had been left in the dreamland, begging and pleading for it to come back, to feel his naked body pressed up against L. It was always the same. It started with a warehouse. A warehouse full of people-him, a person wearing an L mask that he assumed to be Near, Matsuda, Mogi, Aizawa, and a few other people that Light didn't know.

Everything was going fine-better than fine-until thirty seconds passed after Near's name being written in the Death Note. And he was still alive. Then, Matsuda pulled out a gun. Light didn't even see him pull the trigger, just felt an intense firey pain in his right hand as he tried to scribble down the names yet again. Blood was suddenly everywhere, everyone was shooting at him.

Light would fall, scratching at his chest as the pain blossomed, the only thing he was still concious of as death took him as its own being Ryuk's ghostly laughter.

The pain would fade, as it always did, replaced instead with an overwhelming sense of nothingness, of being eternally alone. Which, to Light, was even worse.

Then everything would change.

The grey mist would remain, everything around him stayed the same, but the aloneness was replaced with such love that Light thought his bullet-ridden heart would burst. He felt a feather-light touch on the back of his neck, accompanied with the sweet scent of sugar and icing.

"...L?" he would dare to ask, his voice trembling as he hoped for the one thing, the one person, that he loved more than anything. The person that he had killed.

There was always silence for a few long seconds, the touch tracing patterns on the back of his neck still warm and comforting before a quiet, monotoned voice answered. "Yes, Light-kun."

Light's breath would catch as he turned around slowly, his brilliant amber eyes taking in the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. The detective stood before him, hunched over as always, in his usual clothes-a long-sleeved, white t-shirt, and worn jeans-with his raven-black hair as spiked and carelessly gorgeous as it had been when he was alive. But the most incredible, most breathtaking part was the pure white, feathered wings extending from between L's shoulderblades.

L's midnight eyes trailed up Light's body from his feet, only stopping when they looked into Light's own eyes. "L," he would gasp, hugging the the older man tightly as L's embraced him back, his long-fingered hands stroking Light's silky hair.

Light never payed any attention to the fact that he had no clothes on, that he was completely naked, but instead reveled in the fact that he was holding L again, holding him the way he had longed to ever since that fateful day.

He would always bury his head in L's chest, saline rivers of tears streaming down his cheeks, dampening L's white shirt so that it clung more to his form. L continued to run his fingers through Light's bronze hair. "I missed you, L," he whispered brokenly, clinging to the detective's shirt in a way totally unlike Kira, unlike Kami, unlike the God of the New World.

"Can...can you ever forgive me?" he would continue, and L would stop toying with his hair to place a soft hand underneath Light's chin and turn his face up to his own, kissing Light's forehead with his cool lips. "There is nothing to forgive, Light-kun," L murmured, before meeting Light's lips with his own, a brief, sweet, chaste kiss before pulling away.

Light looked up at L in confusion and wonderment, his lips still tingling, his body feeling it was on fire, but in a good way. Had L just...kissed him? The same kiss he'd desired for years? "What do you mean?" he asked, forcing his attention back to the conversation.

"Light-kun did kill me, yes, but it was in the past," L explained. "In life."

And Light would bring his lips to L's, in a kiss much less chaste and innocent than the previous one. Passion overwhelmed the two teenagers, their mouths melding together into one as Light's tongue dipped even deeper into the hot cavern of L's mouth, exploring every forbidden nook and corner of it that he had always dreamed about.

L's hands wandered down his neck to his lower back, exploring the smooth, milky-white skin as Light gasped into L's mouth.

"Ryuzaki..." he moaned, biting the older man's lip as the detective's wings surrounded the two of them, the incredibly soft, warm feathers encasing both their bodies as L's hands wandered farther and farther...


But this time, it wasn't a dream.

Light was trapped in Mu.

And this time, there was no L.

He whipped his head around, begging for L, for anything but the all-consuming grey before falling to his knees on the ground, the nothingness, the aloneness of it all consuming him.

Light screamed, screamed until all the skin on inside his throat ripped, tears streaming down his face and burning on their way down.

Without L to comfort him, he faced an eternity of torturous guilt. An eternity of torturous guilt, knowing that it was all because of him, all because he had picked up the Death Note, all because he became Kira, all because he killed L, all because he failed to beat Near.

It was all because of him that he was without L; and without L, he was nothing.

A/N: Review? Thanks!