"Mr. Wammy? I need more cake."
"All right. With ice cream?"
"I'm afraid we're out of rainbow, L."
"The proper course of action here would be to leave now and buy more rainbow ice cream," came L's voice, altered by the tinny sound of the speakers. "Do so quickly. But bring the cake first. Please."
"I'll be right there."
Wammy could barely hold back a smile as he cut another slice of cake. He made it a big slice, because L would be asking for more soon and he might as well give him enough to satisfy the boy until he had retrieved the ice cream. Then he left his desk and headed towards L's room, opened the door, expecting to see it entirely dark except for the artificial glow of the computer screen in front of L.
Wammy opened the door and blinked. L was sitting in his usual seat in his usual position, but there was a lamp glaring down on L, illuminating him, a spotlight in the darkness. He appeared to be reading some kind of heavy book.
"I thought you were working on the Colombian case," said Wammy, setting down the plate of cake. L glanced up.
"I was," he said. "But the organization providing my information is highly Catholic. I decided I should know more about their views, in order to avoid offending them."
Wammy peered at the thick tome L was holding. "...Is that a Bible?"
"Yes, it is. King James Version, in fact. Fascinating language."
Silence. Wammy noted how far into the book L appeared to be. "Have you read all of this already?"
"Heavens no," said L, looking as if Wammy had suggested something atrocious. "I started with Matthew. I'm finishing John at the moment."
"Ah. The New Testament."
"Indeed." A pause. Wammy didn't leave, because L wasn't finished speaking. He had shown no physical signs of a desire to continue talking to Wammy, but the old man knew. He had known the boy for a long time, after all. L said, "You know, it really is riveting."
Wammy raised an eyebrow. "Riveting?"
"The story of Christ. Absolutely fascinating. I now understand how one could call this the greatest story ever told."
Wammy could not tell whether or not L was being serious, so he stayed silent.
"This is brilliant. Listen. 'The servant is not greater than his lord; neither he that is sent greater than he that sent him.'" L looked at Wammy, eyes wide and bright. "Do you understand that? Do you understand what Jesus Christ is saying here, in the presence of the very man who is about to betray him? Christ is saying, I am not better than you. We are equals. To the very man who causes his death! They talk about him as if he is the Son of God, but he seems like a regular human to me. Perfectly capable of forgiving the unforgivable." L sniffed. "I hope I never stoop to such a level. It is a lucky thing that I am so childish, otherwise I'd be going to hell for having so much disdain for Christ." L flipped pages backward quickly. "'Verily I say unto you, except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven,'" quoted L. "Good news for me, I suppose."
Wammy still couldn't discern whether L was being facetious or not.
"The best part about this story," said L softly, suddenly turning sombre, "is the way Jesus wants it to be done. He doesn't try to escape, does he?" L almost laughed. "What a fool. If he is truly the Son of God, he would have found a way. Clearly he doesn't seem to be as intelligent as the current human population, those who do anything to hide from the Reaper."
"Perhaps," began Wammy slowly, "you're looking at it from the wrong perspective, L."
L looked up at Wammy, incomprehension in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"He clearly chooses not to escape. You think this is because he is unintelligent?"
"Yes. He doesn't understand what is obvious to many people. What is painfully obvious to myself. He can easily continue preaching and spreading his Word if he leaves. It's quite possible, and would likely do more good for the world."
"Perhaps," said Wammy slowly, "there is something he understood, and that you do not."
L stared at him.
"Perhaps, Christ understands that it is his duty."
"Or perhaps it is none of these things," murmured L, looking back at the pages of the Bible with a new light in his eyes. "Maybe it is that...maybe it is that, if Jesus wants to die, he wants it to be at the hand of a friend."
"We will never truly understand."
L said softly, "'Whither I go, thou canst not follow me now; but thou shalt follow me afterwards.'"
L looked at Wammy.
"Do you think Judas got into heaven, Mr. Wammy?"
Wammy pushed his eyeglasses up the bridge of his nose.
"I think that Christ was not as perfect as people seem to think," replied Wammy slowly. "He is a selfish man. He says this because he wants his friends with him for eternity. He is...childish."
L cocked his head to the side.
"'While ye have light, believe in the light, that ye may be children of the light.'"
L stared at Wammy.
"So many verses about the children."
"Indeed. Perhaps it is not as bad a quality as you liken it to be, L. Perhaps it makes you Christ-like."
"No," said L, before Wammy even finished his sentence. "Jesus is the light. His disciples are the children."
"Wrong," Wammy gently corrected him. "The light is God. The children are mankind. Christ was born a man, L. Nothing more."
"Jesus and God are the same entity in different forms."
"One might argue. But there is quite the difference between them." A pause. "A difference you just pointed out."
L stared at Wammy, then at the thin page in front of him.
Suddenly, L said, "Christ can die."
"Not only this," continued Wammy. "Christ accepts death. God cannot accept death because God cannot die." He paused, then added, "Or so we're told."
L eyed Wammy suspiciously. "You're trying to teach me a lesson, aren't you."
"Not at all."
"Something about embracing my mortality."
"Nothing of the sort."
"Yet simultaneously stroking my ego."
"I won't deny that."
"Comparing me to Jesus Christ. Well, let it be known that your attempts to stimulate my superiority complex are unsuccessful. I am still as down-to-earth and humble as ever."
Wammy could not hold back a chuckle.
"I'm comparing you to a man, L. Nothing more."
"A divine man."
"A man who dies. How is death divine?"
"I really shouldn't have to remind you that this particular man does not stay dead for long."
"L," began Wammy reasonably, "do you really think you will ever truly die?"
L looked at him.
"If you think that, then you do not understand the purpose of the program at the House."
L looked away.
He murmured, "L will never die."
"No," agreed Wammy. "L will never die. But when your time comes...may you be at peace with the knowledge that your identity will survive. May you accept the inevitable outcome with grace and little hostility. And may you wash your killer's feet, when the time comes."
L's eyes flickered to Wammy once more. "I'm afraid foot-washing is a practice no longer considered acceptable in today's society."
"You understand my point."
"I could never forgive the man who plots my death."
"There is no need to forgive," said Wammy. "You are not perfect; you are not Christ, after all." Pause. "But you must accept what has come to pass."
Then, slowly, "It is...difficult to conceptualize," L began, "but there is a...thirty? No. More like thirty-eight. Perhaps forty-one. Yes. There is a forty-one percent chance that Jesus Christ may have been a smarter man than I."
"Of course he was," bristled Wammy. "God is omnipotent; you are not."
"But you said Jesus wasn't-!"
Wammy was gone, the door closing behind him.
L looked back at the pages of the Bible.
He said, It is finished: and he bowed his head, and gave up the ghost.
Does this make sense?
I wanted to further extend the metaphor implied by L drying Light's feet.
The Bible verses are, in this order:
John 13:16, Matthew 18:3, John 13:36, John 12:36, John 19:30