-:- Beyond Change, Beyond Control -:-

Author: deunan4eva

Summary: Set after A's suicide, Beyond's rage and anger turn into a hunger for revenge as he comes to terms with just why he needs to change the world…

Rated: T – for some disturbing thoughts against the world's greatest detective.

Genre: Tragedy/Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer:Death Note: Another Note and related characters © NISIOISIN. I own no part of Death Note or it's characters. ^_^

BeforeNote:

Well, I really shouldn't write too much here. But just to say – this is my first BB fanfic – and I hope I've done a good job. Yes, I've made L the bad guy, but let's face it – B's insane, and this story shows how I imagine the insanity started. Happy reading!

Mercy

"You never know how strong you are... until being strong is the only choice you have."

-:-

Beyond stared out the window, out at the hard, driving rain.

I've got to get out of here.

The blood-red streaks ran down the windowpane, burning a furious garnet as his eyes changed the natural clear colour of the water. It was almost sickening to watch, it reminded him of the moments as A had died.

'You told me – I'm grateful. Thank you, B,'

A's voice echoed in Beyond's mind. Those words, said with such…relief? A's eyes had betrayed no fear. And that was what hit Beyond the hardest. A had known it was coming, known how it was going to happen.

Maybe another time, huh, B?

In another time, another place, perhaps there were still an unstoppable pair of children, at the top of the world they shared, taking on everything the rest of the universe had to throw at them. Neither was better – they were almost one and the same, and yet so different. A was day, B the night. A saw the sun and a utopia for mankind; B saw the blood-streaked nothingness and the destruction of everything, at his own hand.

You're not a monster. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

The nights that B had spent, in A's arms, held tight and secure, rocked back and forth and assured that in the morning, the sun would rise in a different light. That everything, no matter how bad, would turn out for the better.

But it didn't, did it, B?

Beyond wasn't a child anymore – the child had fledged his own wings and become a bird, ready to leave the nest and fly. That's right – the nest of hardship and fear, whispers in the night and always looking over his shoulder to flying into a world twice as bad – twice as bad because this time, A wasn't there to help him when he fell.

But I always will be.

The sixteen-year-old still remembered so clearly, like looking into a polished mirror, the words whispered by his only friend as he died. The long, hard night that had finally ended with the sun rising, as always, in the same light. The never ending cycle that could never be changed, no matter what happened in his life.

I'm sorry, B. Forgive me.

Beyond's emotions were swimming, and his glowing blood red orbs were brimming with unshed tears, tears of anger and of sorrow, wanting so much to flow freely – but they could. He raised his hands and wiped his eyes, feeling the unnatural heat from his eyes as if they were on fire. This had to end. For A – B had to go on. He had to leave the only place that had ever accepted him and he had ever truly thought of as "home".

It'll be different. Nothing stays the same, remember, B?

Of course it didn't, Beyond thought to himself bitterly. The only things that ever stayed the same were the glowing red numbers and names hovering like flies above everybody's heads, names and numbers that he couldn't block out, couldn't ignore. He stood from his uncomfortable chair, staggered to his desk, trying not to fall over. It had been days since he'd eaten. The staff had become worried about him – they were going to force feed him if they had to.

Let them try, B. Show them they're wrong about you.

Everyone is wrong about me, Beyond reminded himself. I'm not going to sit by after what's happened to you, I'm going to make them see that they shouldn't have let this happen. I shouldn't have let this happen.

It's not your fault, B.

Of course it's not! It's not his fault that he's been cursed with seeing the death of every person his walks passed, every dog, cat, bird, fish, newborn child – how the fuck could it be his fault? He was only a child, as they say – but in truth, he wasn't. And it was his fault. It was all his fault. He could have changed things.

But now you can, B. Change the world.

Another chance? This was what the world gave him, when he had fucked up so bad the first time? He had let A die – watched him – and now he had to keep going? What was he supposed to do – listen to the stupid voice in his head? The voice he told himself was A, telling him everything was okay? Beyond turned and looked around the room as rain continued to berate the roof high above his head. There had always been one person he could look up to – not A, but L. L had always been there, hadn't he? Wherever he was, he had been an all-seeing eye. But then…what if…

It's L's fault. He could have changed things, too. But he didn't.

That was it. It all came down to L – and what he hadn't done. What if he had been there to stop A, to keep him alive and to save B from the nightmares? Beyond felt that if he didn't have these cursed garnet eyes, he would be seeing red anyway. That little voice in his head was right. How could it not be? A had always told the truth.

But you can change what he didn't. Can't you?

Of course Beyond could – he wasn't the sick, scrawny child with monster eyes who every other child was frightened of anymore – he was strong, stronger than ever, fuelled by the sudden realization that A had, and always would be, right. Beyond whirled and grabbed up the first thing that came into his hand – a brass paperweight off his desk, and hurled it as fast and as hard as he could. It smashed into his dresser, and the mirror shattered into a million shards, and he laughed – it felt so good to laugh. Because now, he had it all figured out.

This can be our story, B.

Yes, oh, yes – it could be – it will be – Beyond grabbed up a backpack at the foot of his bed, stuffed it with some basic essentials, and then, he stuffed his feet into the old, battered leather boots that A had favoured so much. Two sizes too big, but Beyond whipped the laces around his ankles and pulled the knots tight. There, that was better. The rain outside was coming down harder still, the blood red streaks still racing down the windowpane, and he didn't even bother to grab a jacket. He looked down at the shard of himself reflected in the thousands of piece of mirror on the carpet, and saw someone new – but quite B anymore, not even A – but someone new he had never seen before. Beyond. That was his name, his true name. His raven black shock of hair, his torn black jeans with rips in the knees and black T-shirt with the 666 emblazoned into the shoulder seemed … seemed to fit him, far more now than ever before, as if he was only just seeing himself for the first time since A's death.

You're strong – stronger than me, B. You've got to do what you have to.

He turned and reached for the brass doorhandle, his clawing hunger raking gashes in his stomach, his mind a furious buzz of noise and his eyes taking in everything in that haunting bloody glow. But he forced himself out of his room, took the stairs two at a time, and reached the main lobby of the orphanage. Say goodbye to home, B, he told himself, and he took one last look around. One of the staff was leading a couple of new children around, and Beyond didn't even bother to shield his eyes – he just turned and walked out the front doors, the massive, creaking mahogany doors that had once welcomed him like a son, and now released him like stoic parents. Beyond chuckled to himself at the irony – no parents, no orphanage…

No rules, the voice whispered. The world is yours – no one is there to stop you. Not even L can hold you down anymore. He's the reason for your suffering, B. Don't let others suffer the way he made us suffer.

Beyond looked to the sky as the rain tipped down over his face – yes, he knew what he had to do, now. Everything was so much clearer, the rain washed over him and refreshed him, making him feel reborn and anew. The red that cast a see-through curtain over his vision wasn't going to be his downfall anymore – it was his strength, his weapon.

And soon, soon, he promised A as he started to walk down the empty street, L will feel just how powerful my weapon is.

The voice resided, whispering only once more before vanishing from his mind completely.

Thanks, brother. I'll never forget you, B.

AfterNote:

I hope I'm up to snuff, and please, no throwing things at me for making L look like the big bad guy – but both he and Beyond have got to be my favourite characters in Death Note, and I've had this idea for a while now. It's good to get it out. Please R&R!

– Mercy