Case File: L Lawliet • L Lawliet x Reader

Chapter 48 | talk

TW for next few chapters- abuse, mental health issues.

Now that you knew what happened to L pre-wammys, a lot of things fell into place.

Scars he had and didn't recall. Fear of loud noises. Avoidance of social interactions. Depressive episodes. His inability to work on cases involving abuse. Patchy memory. Bad social skills. It all made sense now, you wanted to get him to recover. Trauma stays with you forever, but it can be minimised. It was a slippery slope, you didn't want to accidentally cause a panic attack, relapse, flashback or anything extreme.

But he needed to know. He needed to know in order to recover.

Looking back, when he lashed out at the other kids on the first day, it was probably a panic attack. His odd behaviours like biting his nails were nervous habits. His hyper vigilance was a result of always having to listen for the footsteps of an angry parent rushing up the hall. And those times he'd stare into the void, unblinking and seemingly lost were disassociation.

L clearly had a lot of repressed memories and traumas deep inside him he just couldn't tap into.

"L"

He sighed, rolling over to face you. He'd been in bed all day, not sleeping but just lying there lost in thought, he did that when he was stressed.

"I read your records" you said.

"And? What happened to me? I don't remember anything before my first day at wammys apart from randim déjà vu for smells and textures" he replied.

You opened your mouth to speak, but paused it trying to think of a way to make this hurt less. But clearly, there wasn't an easy way. You just had to say it. You sat on the bed next to him, he sat up to face you. The look in your eye told him this was serious.

"I can't phrase this lightly. L, you're a child abuse survivor" you said.

He was silent for a moment. Letting it sink in, he was going to say he didn't remember that, but of course he wouldn't. It's trauma.

"What... kind?" He asked.

"I mean we'll never know the full story unless you somehow remember it all. But physical abuse, gaslighting, manipulation, emotional abuse... that's why you're covered in scars you don't remember getting. Some of them are probably normal, kids trip over and fall off bikes all the time, but some..:"

He didn't exactly know what he felt right now. A lot of things started to fall into place but he felt like it didn't happen. He wanted to believe it was a lie, but you were clearly serious. And too much linked up for it to be a lie.

"In your files there were medical reports from your first checkup. You were underweight and bruised, they began a diagnosis for PTSD but for whatever reason never finished it. Under that was a transcript between you and a police officer from the day you were found abandoned. And no, you're not reading it... I don't want it to accidentally trigger something" you explained.

He was silent again, he knew deep down you were telling the truth. It was like a lightbulb went off in his head that made a bunch of things he couldn't explain about himself click. He thought he'd be devastated to hear news like this but he was just... numb. All he could say was:

"Oh..."

"I want you to recover. You can't continue to work on cases without recovering. And with blue ship approaching quickly, I want you at at least START recovery. It'll take years, but if we start now we can get through blue ship without you falling into another slump" you said.

He stayed silent, trying to figure out how to respond. You stayed silent too, awaiting his response. After what felt like ages, he finally spoke up.

"(Y/n)..."

"Hm?"

"Why am I so unloveable..?"

You blinked in shock, those words from him not something you expected.

"L I love you. The boys love you, Watari loves you-"

"And my birth parents didn't? The two people who gave me life, tried to take it?"

Where was this coming from? Did you overstep a line? He would have found out eventually, he had to know in order to recover but... this was unlike him.

"You see evil people in cases all the time, you know full well some people are just... bad" you said.

"But I was their flesh and blood, and they wanted rid of me. They... left me to die"

So many awkward silences. You didn't know how to respond to any of this, he was so morbid out of nowhere. You did expect him to be THIS distraught over the information so quickly. But he was speaking so... calmly.

"So that wasn't a dream that actually happened..." he mumbled.

"I mean, dreams do sometimes act as vessels to fill up holes in your memory. Memories to come through dreams sometimes so... maybe" you replied.

"That's how I got that scar then... it all makes sense now..."

"Maybe we should talk about something else-"

"The door..."

You mentally gasped at those words instantly making a connection. Slamming doors was always something he hated, and he used to have dreams where he'd wake up and talk about a door before the dream vanished into his mind unable to recall.

It was a risk to ask him this now. But, maybe it'd help piece things together.

"L... what happened with the door?"