Surely, Mello wasn’t going to… he wouldn’t; even if he and Near had their differences, at the end of the day they were partners. They had grown past the poisonous dynamic in Wammy’s, hadn’t they, the Christmas tape was enough to prove that even Mello was starting to overcome that proud defiance…
Time to think was no longer a luxury the detective could afford. His body reacted almost reflexively to the sudden peril of his successor, legs stumbling two numb steps before he closed the distance between them at an all-out sprint, even as Near was biting Mello's arm, transforming, and getting out of the way. It was a good thing, too; adrenaline made even L's wiry body a force to be reckoned with as he seized Mello’s arms, wrenching them back, doing whatever he could to put distance between the two young men and the Kishin Pit.
Grasping Mello by his leather vest, L shoved his back against the rough wall of the cavernous room, bearing down on his successor, his eyes very like Near's but furious. If Mello was like fire, and Near was like ice, then L was like water: ice made him colder, fire made him boil, and at this moment, he was scalding. When pushed to a certain point, the isolated, cool-headed detective was definitely capable of considerable wrath.
"You can't do that, Mello. I don't know what you think you're proving, but you can NOT do that to him."
Something was wrong... L searched Mello's face for any sign that something was amiss, something like the madness at work...
no subject
Time to think was no longer a luxury the detective could afford. His body reacted almost reflexively to the sudden peril of his successor, legs stumbling two numb steps before he closed the distance between them at an all-out sprint, even as Near was biting Mello's arm, transforming, and getting out of the way. It was a good thing, too; adrenaline made even L's wiry body a force to be reckoned with as he seized Mello’s arms, wrenching them back, doing whatever he could to put distance between the two young men and the Kishin Pit.
Grasping Mello by his leather vest, L shoved his back against the rough wall of the cavernous room, bearing down on his successor, his eyes very like Near's but furious. If Mello was like fire, and Near was like ice, then L was like water: ice made him colder, fire made him boil, and at this moment, he was scalding. When pushed to a certain point, the isolated, cool-headed detective was definitely capable of considerable wrath.
"You can't do that, Mello. I don't know what you think you're proving, but you can NOT do that to him."
Something was wrong... L searched Mello's face for any sign that something was amiss, something like the madness at work...