[At least for the moment, L seems too tired to flail. His breath can't fill his lungs, and as a result, his strength is limited to short determined bursts when his lucidity slips, along with his resignation to this fate.

Sitting still, he's able to breathe a bit easier, after a spell. Lungs that can fill halfway are better than just a third; the subtle difference seems to calm him, and lodge him more willingly under Near's hypnotic influence, but the answer he gives is still lost, and doubtless discouraging.]

A.

[He says so plaintively, as though it is the only possible answer and should be obvious. It's cruel, in fact, for the ghost to make him say it again.]

They said you didn't ask for help. No one believed that you needed it. Did you hope... was it your wish that someone would ask you, first?

[Would if have changed anything?]