Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note in any way, shape or form. All lyrics, quotes and excerpts are credited.
A/N: Ai yai yai, so many projects! No worries, they're all in the works. I'm just a perfectionist so they take a while to actually be posted. This one's somewhat lighthearted compared to my other fics (somewhat) and focuses on a younger L, B and Light. Enjoy.
I n c a n d e s c e n t
- - - - PROLOGUE - - - -
When he woke up that morning and found the man's body hanging from the fan in the living room while the flames rose higher, L knew his mother was gone. He ran to Beyond's room with a strength he didn't know he had. The fire danced along the trail of kerosene encircling the bed like hellfire and for once his life, L was truly frightened by something that wasn't his father's hand or belt or any other item at the man's arsenal.
The sheets were sizzling – no, please– but the bed was empty.
"B! Where are you? B!" He half-yelled half-coughed into the gray smoke enveloping the room.
"Lawlie! Lawlie! I'm here, Lawlie!"
"Where? I can't see you!"
"The closet, dummy! Like Mum said!"
Biting back every word he could use to describe what he thought about the woman at that moment, L opened the closet to find his brother nestled amongst the clothes that had fallen off the hangers, his eyes wide and red in fear and some sort of accusation L couldn't place. "Come on," he grabbed the boy's arm roughly and pulled him to his feet, "we have to get out of here. Now, Beyond." He added in a growl when the boy hadn't moved.
Cough. "I can't." Cough, cough.
Cough, cough. "Why?" Cough, cough, cough.
Beyond coughed several times, a chest-wracking cough, before he answered quietly. "My foot, I hurt it." More coughing that shook his small frame like an earthquake.
Without a word, L scooped the boy into his arms and ran out the room, down the hall and out of the house, ignoring the sharp pain as his bare feet made contact with the glass and wood on the floor that had once been their door. He didn't stop running until he made it across the grass and pavement and asphalt and right into the arms of a man he didn't know.
"Woah there, son," said the man when the older boy literally jumped back. A younger boy trembled in his arms, arms thrown around the older boy's neck, face buried against his chest. They were both covered in soot and the older one seemed to be looking at the fireman as if he were Satan in the flesh. "It's alright." He held out his arms but the older boy didn't budge; he just stood there, dark eyes wide, lips quivering. "I won't hurt you or your brother. I just want to help you. We'll get you help." He gestured at the other men dressed in the same attire, hoisting ropes and ladders and hoses out of the truck.
"How did you know?" The older boy's voice was hoarse like he had been yelling for hours. "About the fire? I didn't call 911."
The man looked strangely at the boy; he couldn't have been more than 9 years old. "Somebody made a phone call from your house, saying there was a fire. Was that your father?"
"He's dead," said the boy indifferently, "Where are the paramedics?" He refused to let go of the other boy.
"They're on their way. It's too late to save your home. I'm sorry."
B's fingers dug into his skin painfully through the thing fabric of his shirt but L didn't care. They watched the house twist and curl unto itself as it was consumed by flames.
The woman from social services was very tall and very thin. Her long red hair and makeup-free face reminded L of the hippies in the pictures his mother would show him. She wore a yellow t-shirt and faded jeans, and shook their hands with enthusiasm that didn't fit the bleak, rainy day outside. "You must be Beyond and Lawliet. The name's Collette." Her words wore a heavy Irish accent.
"That's…weird," B said, pouting whilst looking above her head intently.
L nudged him. B was always particular about things like names. "I'm sorry for my brother's rudeness," he said quickly.
She smiled and shook her head, surprised by the polished manners of the nine year old, considering his family background. "It's alright. I always thought it was a strange name." She looked down at B who was playing with the zipper of his jacket. "What do you think would be a good name for me, Beyond?"
The smaller boy folded his arms and looked at the floor. "Alexandria."
Collette blinked, looking from the smaller boy to his brother who shrugged. "He's really good with names."
"Yeah," the woman nodded slowly, smiling at the boy in question. How he knew her given name was quite strange…maybe he'd sifted through some papers before she came in but…. "How old are you, Beyond?"
"Seven and four months," the boy replied, "Do you have any juice? I'm thirsty."
"Uh…yeah, in the icebox," she gestured at the mini fridge sitting by the window, "Help yourself. Lawliet, will you sit with me?"
"Uh, sure," he took a seat in the too-big chair in front of her desk.
She sat down across him and opened up a notebook. Pen poised over the paper, she looked at him with a serious expression. "I know it's hard but I want you to tell me what happened. At your own pace. Okay?"
He drew his knees up to his chin and put his thumb to his lips. This strange crouch was the most comfortable way for him to sit on a chair, and he always did so unless his father swatted him on the knee or threatened to 'fix' his legs for good. He ignored her scribbling quickly at the gesture. "Where should I start?"
"Anywhere you want."
"My father hung himself, my mother left. I found Beyond in his room."
"Lawli saved me," Beyond called from the fridge, "Ooh, you have jam! My favourite!"
"That's very brave of you, Lawliet," Collette nodded solemnly.
"Not really."
"Oh?" She made some more notes. "How so?"
"It…just isn't. I could've died, we both could've died. It was very foolish."
"I see. Then what happened?"
"I took Beyond and ran out of the house."
"You ran into a fireman, yes?"
"Jonathan Harker, like from Dracula," Beyond settled on the chair beside L and was dipping his finger into a jar of jam and licking it leisurely, "Lawli read it to me for my birthday. He said it was scary but I wasn't really scared. I liked Van Helsing the best."
"You read Dracula to a seven year old?" Collette forget she was speaking to a boy not much older but the words just slipped out.
"Is this part of your interrogation, too?" L snapped. He was getting annoyed with this silly woman and her silly questions. "What's the orphanage we'll be sent to after you're done with us?"
The Irish woman stopped the stream of impolite words that came to her at the retort. He was nine, and had lost his father and nearly lost his brother; he had all the right to be frustrated and upset. She took a few breaths, looking away from the intense gaze of the black, and reddish-brown eyes before her. "It's not exactly an orphanage."
"We're going to an orphanage, Lawli?" Beyond looked up from his jam. "Like in Oliver Twist? Will they make us beg for ore? Will they?"
"It's called Whammy's House and it's nothing like the place from Oliver Twist. I've heard wonderful. I'm sure you'll like it."
"Oh?" L leaned forward in his chair, "How long will we be staying there?"
She closed her book and ran her fingers through her hair, sighing heavily. "Until you're adopted."
Collette's car was old and rusting, and the rain didn't improve the bumpy two-hour ride to the middle of nowhere. The gray English suburbs seemed to stretch on as L and B pressed their noses against the glass, drawing squiggles in the breath-clouded windows.
"Wow, Lawli, look!" Beyond unglued himself from the glass and pointed at the clock tower that loomed over the mass of trees.
They progressed farther, onto the dirt road, and Whammy's House came more into view. It was enormous and Gothic in fashion, like a church, including the large cross atop the tower and the ringing bells. Ivory gates rose before the entrance, proclaiming two golden letters: WH. As soon as the car approached them, they swung open slowly.
Collette's pager went off and she madly scrambled for it under the front seat. She swore black and blue, and looked up sheepishly at the duo. "Sorry, lads, but I'll have to get going early. You okay solo from here?"
"We'll be fine," L said, hauling out the single suitcase he had brought with him. Beyond followed suit and shut the door.
"If you need anything, you have my number," she said.
"We'll be fine," Beyond nodded, waving, "Bye bye, Miss. McMaster."
"Alright guys, best of luck. Bye!" Collette ignored the surprise of the boy knowing her last name without her ever mentioning it, and pulled out. Her dingy car disappeared into the mist.
Holding suitcases and hands, L and B walked in; L hoping for the best, B hoping they had strawberry jam.
A/N: Yes, I'm evil with prologues. I know.
Reviews are love and love is welcome. )
Cheers,
elomelo