After two days of being heavily drugged, the doctors mercifully began to reduce L's dosage. He was surprised to hear how much time had passed, was able to register the coming and going of Belle, and comprehended that she was currently taking care of his long-suffering business and handling employee affairs. He would have been grateful, but it was too subtle an emotion, getting lost in a swirl of others all vying for his notice.
For example, he noticed that Tony wasn't around, and that it felt horribly wrong. Despite being told that his friend was recovering, L wasn't in a trusting way since the revelation that someone had sold him out to the Mafia, and he wasn't about to just take someone else's word on it. That was why he slipped out from under observation during a shift change, removing his IV and donning a set of scrubs swiped from the linen cart that had brought him new towels. A surgical mask over his mouth and nose allowed him to pass undetected for as long as he needed to, which happened to be just long enough to look up Tony's name and room number, and make his way to the wing where he was recovering.
He let himself into the teen's room, no one giving him a second glance in his hospital-appropriate garb. They might have, if they bothered to note the slip-proof socks in place of the required closed-toed shoes, but fortunately, the hustle and bustle of large hospitals meant that everyone was simply too absorbed in their own duties to see a thin, shabby nurse lookalike slipping into Tony's room with a stolen clipboard held close to his chest to disguise the fact that he wore no identifying badge.
Once inside, he closed the door behind him, pulling a chair up to Tony's bedside, sitting silently and waiting for a feeling of cathartic completion that just didn't come, despite his confidence that it would once they were reunited.
Closed to L and Tony- August 18
For example, he noticed that Tony wasn't around, and that it felt horribly wrong. Despite being told that his friend was recovering, L wasn't in a trusting way since the revelation that someone had sold him out to the Mafia, and he wasn't about to just take someone else's word on it. That was why he slipped out from under observation during a shift change, removing his IV and donning a set of scrubs swiped from the linen cart that had brought him new towels. A surgical mask over his mouth and nose allowed him to pass undetected for as long as he needed to, which happened to be just long enough to look up Tony's name and room number, and make his way to the wing where he was recovering.
He let himself into the teen's room, no one giving him a second glance in his hospital-appropriate garb. They might have, if they bothered to note the slip-proof socks in place of the required closed-toed shoes, but fortunately, the hustle and bustle of large hospitals meant that everyone was simply too absorbed in their own duties to see a thin, shabby nurse lookalike slipping into Tony's room with a stolen clipboard held close to his chest to disguise the fact that he wore no identifying badge.
Once inside, he closed the door behind him, pulling a chair up to Tony's bedside, sitting silently and waiting for a feeling of cathartic completion that just didn't come, despite his confidence that it would once they were reunited.