(I do not own Death Note: Another Note or anythin you recognize)
( A,B- 13 C- 12 L-15) (I'm not totally sure on the ages so please bear with me and if anyone could provide the correct ages that would help oh so much)
"You're slacking C," Mr. Wammy continued to stand passively beside the large maple desk where Rodger sat lecturing me. I hung my head in shame, resisting the urge to fall asleep.
"My apologies Rodger, will try harder," my words tumbled out groggily.
"Why don't you have a rest C."
Rodger's as well as my own eyes snapped to Mr. Wammy who in turned smiled at us.
"Quill she's lacking in her studies. She's dropped…"
"Only two points and lacking in sleep. I'm sure that after her little break she will be in tip top shape."
"Thank you Mr. Wammy," I said excitedly rushing to my room collapsing on the bed.
Red eyes peered down at me, a drop of something fell on my nose.
"Go away B," I groaned attempting to turn over with him straddling me.
"You've been asleep for 22 hours, 43 minuets and 13 seconds, are you sick?"
In my panic attack I knocked B off the bed, the thud told me that he hit the floor maybe on his head. Cursing, I grabbed some clothes making a dash for my classes. Mr. Wammy was smiling at me from behind a little podium.
"I do hope you a re feeling better. Where is B?"
The said little boy appeared a minuet later holding a jar of strawberry delight. We took our seats and the lessons began.
"A don't you think you're going a bit overboard," I sadly studied the sick look on my friend. He was hunched over a large text book grasping his head in his hands. He said nothing. Watching his eyes frantically dance over the black and white pages, I sighed heavily grabbing my own book to read. It was well past midnight before I called it a night. Sympathetic eyes glanced over at A who was surrounded by a growing pile of books. 'He's going to kill himself,' I thought shaking my head. I met B on the outside. He was hunched over a jar of jam.
"Don't you think you should be studying," I questioned.
"C, we're only 10. We shouldn't conform ourselves to be a stand in for a coward hero."
I grimaced as if I had been slapped in the face.
"B don't talk like that," I said softly. He shrugged before standing. His slouch began to show even more. "We should be grateful that L took us in."
"Its all about L isn't it," his voice remained calm and curios but was laced with malice. "Just because he's a hot shot detective, doesn't mean that we, mere children, should subject…"
"That is enough Backup!"
Our heads whipped to the side capturing Rodger with our widened eyes. As he approached, I scurried off, it wanting to endure another of their famous shouting matches.
It was late before I almost drifted into deep sleep. The creaking of my door alerted me slightly. Ignoring it as probably B, I drifted to the world of my own.
The pillow was stuck to my face when I in the morning. Because they keep the mansion like a freezer, it couldn't be sweat. It smelled sweet. Strawberry sweet.
"B," I growled the letter gritting my teeth. I threw the comfortable sack of feathers against the opposite wall observing the multiple reddish pink stains. After a necessary shower, I trudged off to my classes.
"You're not allowed in my room any longer," glaring I sat across from my usual companion. He looked up from the ever present jam jar, crimson eyes full of feigned innocents.
"Why C?"
I menacingly pointed my fork at him.
"Don't give me that B. Your favorite snack thoroughly decorated my pillow!"
"Sorry about that." He looked no such thing.
"Where's A?"
"Probably in the library."
"How can you be so nonchalant about him B?" He shrugged.
"I think I'm going to bring him a sandwich." B rose with me, pocketing his hands in the baggy jeans he wore.
"A you really should take a break," sympathy was evident in my voice as I held out the sandwich. His eyes were sunken in while a clearly unhealthy yellow shade adorned his skin. He looked disheveled and destroyed. His tired black rimmed eyes strained up at me forcing a smile that looked foreign on him and looked more like a grimace then anything.
"I'm fine, thank you C."
'What are you working so hard for anyways," B asked looking down on him arrogantly. A looked at him as if he were stupid. My exact thoughts at the moment.
"I am L's successor. We all are and we should be."
"Glad to know that someone agrees with me," I mumbled, sideways glaring at B.
"Thank you C," A said, "But I'll kindly have to ask you and B to leave."
I only nodded following my proceeding letter who took the initiative to leave as soon as the invitation was presented.
"B, we have got to do something about A," I exclaimed getting hysterical towards the end. B looked at me over his shoulder eyes half open it what was assumed to be boredom.
"The only thing I am doing is retreating to my room with a jar of jam." He left me standing in the dark corridor. Knowing that I was powerless against A alone, I trudged dejectedly to my room.
"B, C, do either you know where A is," Rodger asked.
"We last saw him in the library last night."
"He's not in there."
"Did you bother to check his room, regardless of how little he inhabits it?" I could almost smell the sarcasm radiating off B's statement. Rodger stuttered before beckoning us to accompany him. B and I side by side, stalked silently behind him. I never realized how far away As' room was until I actually ventured the distance. A large gold platted 'A' decorated the cream door, signaling its occupant. Rodger knocked swiftly, the sound echoing throughout the hallway. Thunder clapped from a distance. Rodger knocked again. Still no answer came from within the room. He jiggled the knob, discovering that it was locked. I began to worry. This wasn't A's typical behavior, even on a bad day.
"A," I shouted for him. Producing a large ring of keys, Rodger selected the correct one quickly, thrusting it into the lock. Despite the speed at which the key was turned, it seemed like forever until the door was unlocked. Harshly pushing the door open, Rodger stormed in with me closely behind. A lecture that had been pre-prepared died on his lips while as a scream welled in my throat. Hung from a think rope attached to the ceiling fan, was A. I ran from the sight and straight into B's arms. His arms encased me. I cried. B remained there, emotionless holding me. Rodger emerged later, firmly closing the door behind him. I turned to face him, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I," he swallowed, "I will contact Mr. Wammy immediately. Children go to your rooms."
B's arms remained around me, even though it had switched to around my shoulders. He guided me silently through the dark halls. We arrived at my rook where we sat together on the bed.
"We should have done more for him," I whispered clutching his jelly stained baggy shirt.
B brought a thumb to his lips. "I think we did enough."
I looked up at him. His unusual crimson eyes shifted to my own pale blue ones then back to the plane wall across from us. I curled up closer to him. Rain splattered along the window panes, but I didn't care. I basked in the few memories of my recently deceased friend.
The day was a bleak gray, fitting for a funeral. A slight fog and mist promised rain. I clutched B's hand tightly. Willing myself not to cry at the tiny coffin before me. Rodger stood silently behind us, hands clasping our shoulders, squeezing as a sign of reassurance, most likely false. Mr. Wammy and an unidentifiable boy in black on the other side. He was completely covered by a large black umbrella. As the coffin was lowered into the deep hole, I released my bouquet of black roses and clutched the white lily I had extracted from the wooden box.
"Come children," Rodger gave us a gentle nudge, "lets go back to the mansion." His guiding hands steered us away. B laced our fingers together, squeezing gently. I looked to him for further comfort but his gaze was transfixed ahead. I hung my head and continued robotically.
B and I took refuge in my room, much like last night and cuddled on the bed. I was in the fetal position facing him. He laid flat on his back, one hand seizing me, the other one behind his head. I licked my dry lips, swallowing.
"What's going to happen B?" My voice just barely above a whisper.
"L will find another successor to replace him."
Thanks to B, my naïve eyes were opened that day. L really didn't care about us. We were at his disposal and could be replaced if we became obsolete in anyway. This was our fate. To be an Alternate, to be Backup, to be a Copy of man with an unimaginable intellect but not a sliver of human compassion.