It's not the first riot since he's been incarcerated, but it's the first on such a grand scale. Beyond has no interest in taking part. He's in it for the long haul, has no interest in causing bumps for himself. No, the best, if boring, thing to do will be to find somewhere to lie low. Last time, he managed to get in someone's office, and holed up with whiskey and a good book for hours. Beyond is optimistic about his chances.
He takes off down the corridor away from the noise, keeps going until it gets quieter. He's getting away from the cells and near the storage rooms now, but they're mostly locked. Near the end of the corridor, he finds what looks to be the size of a janitor's closet. Oh well. He's in no position to be choosy.
He shuts the door behind him and feels round for the light. He nearly stumbles over himself when he finds it. There is a man tied up on the floor, gagged, his knees up in front of him. It is not just any man. It's L. Beyond stares at the letters and numbers above his head as if awaiting for them to rearrange themselves, for it to be a mistake. L's dark eyes stare back at him. He's sitting as still as an animal, wide eyed and alert.
Beyond swallows. "L."
L doesn't move, doesn't blink.
He takes an unsteady step forward.
"I'll take your gag off. Don't yell or anything, OK? It's not safe."
L doesn't nod, doesn't react at all, just watches Beyond like he's a dog that might bite him.
Beyond kneels before him carefully, gets his fingers between the gag and his skin, and he is warm, soft, scared. He pulls it away.
L leans his head away. "Thank you," he says.
They regard each other warily.
"How long have you been in here?" Beyond asks him. "Do you need a glass of water?" There's a cooler in the corner. Iit looks fresh, clean.
"Could you untie me first?"
Beyond looks away. He gets a paper cup of water for L and holds it to his mouth, careful not to spill any.
L sips obediently.
"Thank you," he says again. His eyes are still wide, though his voice remains controlled. "Would you mind untying me now, please?"
Beyond looks away. He takes his time putting the cup aside, sits back on his heels.
"Why are you here?" he says to L's shoes.
"I had a meeting with the director."
"What about?"
"About the funds I donate. About where they've been going."
"Oh." He didn't know L donated.
He can almost feel the tension coming off him. He glances up at him.
"I won't hurt you."
"Thank you." He says it with a twinge of uncertainty now. Beyond can feel his eyes studying him now, all that adrenalin, fighting panic. He wishes L wasn't so afraid. He wants to play with L's shoes, stroke his hair, stay in here with him forever. He can't help himself. He reaches out, gently pulls L's legs out of the way. Beyond feels him tense, but he lets it happen. Then Beyond crawls into the space and puts his arms around him, head on his chest. He can feel L's heart, and it is terrified.
"Sorry," he says, and means it. "I'm really sorry, but you don't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you. I won't hurt anyone ever again."
He hears L swallow.
Beyond sighs, resting against him fully, and it is so nice, the warmth of another person, the feel of his skin, the smell of fabric conditioner and soap that's not cheap and nasty. It's everything.
"Someone will come in an hour or so, if that," he murmurs. "You'll be fine."
L doesn't say anything. Beyond can feel him breathing. He leans back a touch more, and Beyond wonders if he is a touch less tense, or if it is wishful thinking.
"Sorry," he says again, because he is embarrassed, he does feel guilty and absurd, but how can he let L go? He's so alone, and L will never come back again.
"Are you – very unhappy here, Beyond?" L asks him now.
The question takes him by surprise.
"I'm OK," he says. "There are things to do. No-one bothers me. Iit could be worse."
He rests against L more comfortably. It's the most at peace he's felt in years.
"What do you do?"
Beyond doesn't know if L's trying to build rapport or just assess him, but he answers anyway.
"Read. Draw. Write. Long distance courses. Learn languages. Watch TV. Use the gym. I'm part of a penpal scheme, too." He tries to think of what else he does. "I went to chapel once, for something to do, but it wasn't really for me. I felt like a hypocrite."
"Don't you have therapy?"
"Oh, yes, but we never get very far. They're convinced my eyes are hallucinations, so we don't really get past that point. I'm surprised they haven't put me on anything. I don't know why I wasn't ever classified as insane. Maybe Wammy took care of it."
L says nothing. When his voice does come again, it is careful, considered, and Beyond knows he's going to receive an offer of some sort.
"Beyond," he says. "If – if you could untie me, I could make sure you get a lot of priveleges. I'd do as much for you as I can."
"Thanks, L," he says. L's so warm, he smells so good, it's like holding a puppy. "But I'll untie you when they come. Sorry. I won't do anything to you."
"What if someone dangerous comes?"
"Oh, I'll untie you then," he says airily. "But I doubt that'll happen. It sounds like it's quietening down."
L says nothing. Beyond hopes he's not annoyed.
"Did anyone hurt you?" he asks L.
"No. My arms a getting a little stiff, though."
"Sorry."
He feels bad. But L will be free any minute and he will be alone forever. He needs this. He's going to soak up every moment he can get.
In the distance, the alarm is turned off. Beyond had stopped noticing it until it was replaced with silence. He gives L a little squeeze.
"There you go. Someone will come soon."
He can feel L's heart climbing up again, like Beyond may turn on him in these last few minutes.
He wants to push all of himself into L, cry on him, cling to him, kiss his hands and his feet and tell him he's sorry.
"You're shaking," L whispers.
"Sorry."
"I'll come and see you," L says. "If you want. And I can write to you."
"Thank you. You don't have to."
"I will."
He is struggling to keep his composure, Beyond can tell. He is convinced Beyond will strangle him just before they come. Beyond hopes he has someone kind to go home to tonight, some sweet desserts and a warm bed waiting.
"What do you need?" L asks him.
The questions throws him because it is so bizarre, so obvious what he needs, but then he understands his meaning.
"Books are always good. Japanese candy would be nice, but I don't think it'll be allowed in. Pens. I'm always running out. Maybe a postcard of Winchester or Japan."
He feels L nod.
He moves his hands to L's back when he hears them coming. It's stiff, he has to use his teeth once, and it takes him a long time, but L doesn't yell for help.
"Sorry," Beyond says, when he sees L's wrists are rubbed raw, and he's hardly making it better.
"Try my keys," L offers. "Right pocket."
"I didn't think they'd be allowed in," Beyond says, dipping his hand into the pocket. L must not be thinking straight. Beyond could have his eyes out with them.
"I get round things," L says.
With a little more work, L's free. Hhe brings his arms forward with a grimance, stretching and massaging them. He winces as the blood rushes back into them.
Beyond sits back watching, hugging his knees, giving him space.
"Are you OK?" he asks him.
"Yes." L meets his eyes, and they are as unreadable as ever. "Thank you."
They sit in the quiet and wait for the staff.