L's finishing his last case before he can focus his full attention on the Kira case. The police are getting nowhere; he has to do something. He just has to hack this laptop for his client, and then it's over.
When he enters the code he's figured out, the laptop crashes. He frowns. He'd had multiple tries over the past few days, and the laptop merely rejected them with no problems. This shouldn't happen.
He plays around with it for a little while, to no avail, and eventually has a cake break, unperturbed. Computers always come round. He turns on the news.
There's been a prison outbreak. A technical glitch had caused all the cell doors to open. There had been riots, deaths, all just a few miles from him.
L would think it a coincidence, if it wasn't the prison that housed Beyond Birthday.
L comes to groggily. He can't move his arms. He remembers falling asleep in his airport hotel, no more. He didn't get out fast enough. He should have insisted they find him an earlier flight.
As his vision swims back, he is completely unsurprised to find the scarred man crouched opposite him. His hair's grown back, but his skin is still rough from the fire. He's in jeans and a sweater, not prison uniform. His feet are bare and his hair is styled like L's.
L smells something, takes a moment to recognise it. Gasoline. Beyond's drenched him in it.
"Welcome back, Lawliet."
L just looks at him. Beyond's eyes are wide, deranged, and he's leaning in L's face. His teeth look sharp in his smile.
"Thanks for your help getting me out. I knew you'd do it. Don't bother yelling or anything; we're miles from anyone."
L absorbs this in silence. He takes a glance around, sees nothing of note. They're in what looks like an old warehouse.
Perhaps it's the drugs, but he can't see any obvious way out of this. He wonders, vaguely, if Near and Mello will be able to solve the Kira case before many more die. It's impossible to say without having looked at the case more in depth.
"Are you scared?"
"Yes."
"You don't look scared."
"I'm sure I'll start screaming once my skin comes off."
"Yes," Beyond says, without expression. He takes a lighter out of his pocket. "You will."
L looks down at himself dully. "You should have used handcuffs," he hears himself saying. "The fire will burn through the rope. I might do something."
"You're right," B flicks the lighter on and off. "Perhaps I should break your legs as well, just in case."
L says nothing. He doesn't know what drug is in his system, but it's a struggle to keep his eyes open.
"Oi." Beyond taps his cheek. "Don't you dare. This took years of planning. I did this all for you; you're not passing out."
"S'the drugs," L mumbles. He pushes with his legs to sit up straighter.
"They'll trace it to you, you know," B tells him, flicking the lighter again. "The hacking, the 'glitch.' I made sure. You'll go down as a terrorist."
L nods. "Well done," he says, when B seems to expect some kind of response.
He frowns. He tilts L's jaw back up to look at him. "Aren't you going to talk me out of it? Or try something? No-one's coming for you. You haven't planned for this well enough. You underestimated me."
"Yes." L certainly has. "I'm not going to try anything."
B cocks his head at him. Then he puts down the lighter, and leans in to kiss him.
L jerks back.
"Don't worry," he whispers. "I'm not that kind of criminal. I'm just going to kiss you, nothing else."
"I'm not a good kisser."
"I don't care."
L keeps his face averted, and Beyond's hand tightens on the back of his neck.
"Cooperate, or I really will break your legs."
So L lets him.
"Hmm. You are a good kisser," B comments. He sits back and looks at his lighter.
Then, out of nowhere, he puts his head against L's chest and begins to sob. He's shaking, hugging him. He says he's sorry.
L sits there, unmoving and stiff. It is so sudden, so unexpected, that he can't react. His eyes flick around again, but he can't see anything he can help himself with.
Beyond takes a knife out of his pocket and cuts L free. He's slumped against L like a sleepy child. He doesn't fight when L takes the knife and the lighter off him.
"I don't care what you do," B says into his shirt. "I thought I'd be able to do it and I can't. So I don't care what happens now."
He takes B to his hotel, ignoring the odd looks he gets. He is still drenched with gasoline and it stinks. The smell will disturb him for the rest of his life.
He has a lot of missed calls and messages, but he doesn't seem to be under arrest yet, so he handcuffs Beyond to the bed so he can shower.
"Kinky," Beyond jokes weakly.
L ignores him. "Don't do anything."
He showers and changes his clothes. He stays in the bathroom for a while so he can think without Beyond staring at him.
He didn't care. He was a little apprehensive of the burning, the pain, but he didn't care that he was going to die. He doesn't know if this is a good or bad thing. It certainly lends him an edge in his line of work, but it probably isn't a good thing either.
His adrenalin has peaked, and now he's just exhausted. The kind of drained, post-trauma exhaustion that coffee won't help. He leaves the bathroom and gets into bed.
"I'm sorry," Beyond says from his side in the dark.
"Yeah, I got that."
"I don't think they'll really trace it to you. Forensics aren't as good as you and me."
L says nothing. He doesn't care.
"Did you care that you were going to die?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Let me sleep, Beyond."
He's quiet for about a minute.
"L? What- "
"I don't know," he snaps. He's never snapped before. "I'll deal with it in the morning."
"I'm sorry," Beyond mumbles again. "I want to kill myself. Will you let me, instead of taking me back to jail? Please?"
"No."
"But I- "
"No," L snaps again. "There are always alternatives to suicide."
"But I don't want any of them."
"That's too bad."
B curls slightly into the pillow. "Your numbers have changed, anyway," he mumbles. "They're better now."
L doesn't comment.
"Why didn't you ever come to see me?"
L sighs. "I'm under no obligation to come and see you."
"You don't care, you mean. Then why did you bring me here instead of prison? Are you going to hurt me?"
"No."
He's quiet for so long that L almost thinks he's asleep.
"Will you write to me?" His voice is almost pathetic now.
L sighs. "What do you want from me, Beyond? I don't have time to write to people."
"I always wanted to meet you."
"Well, now you have. You still need help."
"So help me."
"I might have considered it if you hadn't almost burned me to death."
"No, you wouldn't. You wouldn't have." He curls into himself, and they don't speak again.
He takes Beyond back to jail the next day.
He's not happy with the decision, but the Kira case is worrying him. He can't cope with the two of them. He doesn't know why he suddenly wants to do something for Beyond – he never has for a criminal before. Not his age, surely – he's dealt with younger and more savage criminals than Beyond. Maybe because he's one of Wammy's? Because of guilt over A? But he has no time to psychoanalyse himself, and no time for Beyond, despite what his gut tells him.
Beyond doesn't put up a fight.
L holds up a hand to the guards just before the take him away. He steels himself.
"I have to work on the Kira case," L tells Beyond "It's going to take a lot of time. But afterwards, when I'm free, maybe I could get in touch and try to help you. If you want."
B stares at him. His eyes are wide, desperate. L nods at the guards, and they take Beyond away before he can answer.
It is the last time L sees him.