[Their Bond was distorted in the dream, not at the strength it should have been until the wave of nausea, disorientation, and pain that represented the cessation of the SQUIP's life. The details had seeped into the ground in fast-time, coffin liquor boiling through a fever, and only now, the details emerge.
L stares at the blank ceiling to better see it, now that it's been laid bare, once the SQUIP has relieved him of the weight pressing down on his chest. He squints, reconciling revulsion and unease and shock, struggling to find balance while the room just spins.]
You didn't...
[He's barely coherent. He doesn't know if the part of his brain that records memories is drowning too deeply in alcohol for him to recall this later; the effort to think through the mire is tremendous.]
Yes, you... did have to, didn't you?
[He presses the heels of his hands against his closed eyelids until stars spark and dance in the darkness. Even the ceiling is too distracting, now, for him to focus on what the Bond inadvertently betrayed, and he must focus.]
You didn't have to go it alone. It would have been better, if you hadn't. You might not have died.
no subject
L stares at the blank ceiling to better see it, now that it's been laid bare, once the SQUIP has relieved him of the weight pressing down on his chest. He squints, reconciling revulsion and unease and shock, struggling to find balance while the room just spins.]
You didn't...
[He's barely coherent. He doesn't know if the part of his brain that records memories is drowning too deeply in alcohol for him to recall this later; the effort to think through the mire is tremendous.]
Yes, you... did have to, didn't you?
[He presses the heels of his hands against his closed eyelids until stars spark and dance in the darkness. Even the ceiling is too distracting, now, for him to focus on what the Bond inadvertently betrayed, and he must focus.]
You didn't have to go it alone. It would have been better, if you hadn't. You might not have died.