To make up for an extended period of no updates, I shall update DS and post a oneshot on the same day. I assume all grievances forgiven? =)

A little less angst-y than my last oneshot. After watching the funeral (a deleted scene from Death Note) I decided it would be interesting if Light met B there. Why not make a fanfiction out of it? I thought about including Mello, Near, and Matt but decided that would be too OOP (out of plot, and yes, I just made that up). Something a little different from BMC and DS, similar to Resititution. Enjoy and please, for the love of Kira, review!

As usual, like to thank my editor mangaluver34. Check her out, she's a great writer.

Angels and Demons

When angels die, demons gather.

Light glanced behind his shoulder, barely able to contain his joy.

A blood red sky, streaked with varying shades of oranges and crimsons, provided an appropriate lighting for the occasion. The task force was walking into that light, seeming like nothing more than shadows. Light grinned as Matsuda turned and called his name, but his dad waved him away. Presumably, to leave Light to mourn.

Of course, this occasion, for Light, wasn't one of mourning.

Ryuk's dull, raspy voice cut the thick silence. "Nothing really exciting's gonna happen now…"

Light chuckled. He's dead… he's DEAD! With that thought he threw his head back and burst into crazy, maniacal laughter, his senses leaving him for a second, not realizing that there might still be ears nearby to hear him. He laughed long, hard and loud, letting out all his pent up emotions, casting away all facades of melancholy and sadness, and allowing himself to relish his ultimate victory. "Now everyone who stood in my way is gone! And everyone else believes me. Controlling the police is only a matter of time!" On a childish instinct, he knelt on L's grave and yelled at the inanimate gravestone, willing L's spirit, wherever it was, to come nigh and listen to his speech of victory. "What do you think, L?! I have won… I have won!" The enormous, sadistic grin faded away like day upon night's coming, and he stood, slowly. Turning to face the Shinigami, he said, "Nothing exciting is going to happen now, Ryuk?" His voice was deadly soft, smooth. "That's not true. I'm going to show you how to build a new world."

"Congratulations Kira!" came a horribly familiar voice, which floated and weaved around Light like a wraith. He gasped and whirled, tripping on his own feet and crashing to the ground on top of L's grave. Ryuk chuckled as Light stood and brushed the dirt off his suit. There was a dim form in the shadows. It was a ridiculously familiar silhouette. No… no! How could…?! His worst, unrealized fear was recognized as the form stepped out of the shadows of the tree. White shirt. Faded jeans. Black, messy hair. Obsidian, glinting eyes. A slouch. Dull expression. Hands shoved in jean pockets. No… NO! You're dead! Light backed up into L's gravestone and screamed. Long. Loud. Fear, anger, every negative emotion conceivable to man manifesting itself into an indescribable cry. "You're dead!" he yelled, and stomped on the grave for emphasis. "You're dead! Dead, dead, dead!"

The person sneered. "I never thought Kira would be so stupid. I'm obviously standing here, living, breathing, and talking." He poked his arm with his finger, scratching it just hard enough to draw blood, which looked black in the twilight. "And I assure you, I am completely flesh and blood."

"But… but… Rem…! She wrote your name…!"

"Again, she obviously didn't, since I'm standing here."

Light, too disgruntled (to put it mildly) to respond, simply stuttered some more. Finally, he managed to get a hold of himself and asked, "How? How did you do it, L? How are you still alive? I saw your body placed into the coffin."

The man didn't answer, but pulled his hand out. In his hand was a packet of… ketchup?

The man opened it deftly and sucked the contents of the package dry, then dropped it at his feet. He repeated the gesture three times before answering, the red substance smeared on his face. It was then that Light realized it wasn't ketchup, but rather something more viscous, and from the smell of it, more sweet. Jam? "You saw my body get placed into the coffin? You obviously didn't, since I'm standing here, right now, talking to you, and the coffin is under that dirt, buried, ready to be forgotten as another rises to take the deceased one's place. Who will it be, I wonder…? Although I could guess. Certainly not that rambunctious, arrogant fool…" Light couldn't hear his next words, but they sounded something like… mellow?

The man tipped his head and ran a hand across his jam strewn face, then licked every drop off his thin, pale hand. Lazily, he put his hand back into his pocket and leaned against the tree, encompassed by darkness once more.

"Who are you?" asked Light, terrified. Whether this man was L or not (of course he wasn't L… that was impossible… wasn't it?) he knew that Light was Kira and had to be eliminated. He had a pen and a piece of the Death Note in his pocket, of course, but without the man's name… "Hey, Ryuk," whispered Light, "If you tell me this man's name, I'll get you all the apples you want for the next few days. As many as possible. OK? Just tell me his name."

Ryuk laughed. "That desperate, huh? Sorry, but that's against out rules, and besides, it'll be fun to see exactly who this guy is and what he wants."

Light panted heavily and turned back to the man, who was still in the shadows. He had to kill him. Using conventional means, if he had to.

"Who are you?" asked Light again, deciding to try and get the guy talking.

"I...? I am L."

Light shuddered. "No… no, that's impossible. You can't be!"

"Is it?" With that, he stepped out into the light, completely different. His shirt was now black and bloodstained. His jeans were also bloodstained. His hair was the same, his eyes had a red tint to them and his mouth was curved into a wry, almost sadistic smile. His hands were covered in a red substance, presumably jam, and he was standing straight, tall, and proud. Now Light could see distinct differences between his jaw line, hairline and general build from L's. Light sighed, relieved. He was sure that he could defeat anyone except L if he still happened to be alive, in which case he would have outsmarted Light. This man obviously knew L to some extent, though. Or he was insane. Who would ever dare to claim to be L?

"You're not L."

"Who is L?" the man shot back.

"The now deceased number one detective ever."

"What is L?"

Light was surprised by this question. "What do you mean, what is L? L is what I just told you."

"No, that's who L is. 'L' itself isn't a person anymore, but rather a position. For, no matter who takes that place, he will always be 'L'. So what's to stop me from taking his title and his responsibilities and becoming L? That's what you plan to do, isn't it? So you stand in my way?" The man chuckled. "That's laughable. Kira, you're nothing. The fact that you could only defeat L with the help of a couple of Death Gods and a Death Note makes it abundantly clear that the only way to defeat L is through the supernatural; which is why he's so successful. Rarely do his cases expand into the supernatural, and often, when they do, it's immaterial. The fact that you only barely won with such advantages solidifies in my mind that L the person always was, and always will be, better than you. In that, I will also be better than for, for I am L, and L is me, save for a one key difference which distinguishes us between us... we have different ideas of 'justice'."

Light was still utterly confused, but he was less petrified. I can do this. All I have to do is persuade him to trust me, get him to give me his name, and kill him. Still… what's this talk about him being L? "What do you mean, you're L? L the person is dead, and he chose me to be his successor. Why would he choose Kira to be his successor? Because I'm not Kira."

"Oh please, that's pathetic," the man said. "I heard that laugh." The man slowly started approaching Light. "The laugh that manifests itself when sadistic joyfulness incarnates into a sound, a laugh I have heard many times… it was issued, of course, from my own throat, and of course, I always strove for perfection in that laugh, as with everything, but it doesn't change the fact that I know what a laugh of sadistic glee sounds like. I laughed as such three times, and the fourth time was more of a scream of pain, yet I was still happy, because I thought I had won. Of course, I'm still alive, so I didn't win."

Light was absolutely perplexed, and for some reason he felt an urge to step off of L's grave. He did such looking at his feet, then raised his head. His breath caught in his throat. He was gone. No, no, no, this can't happen… he knows me, I have to find him! Light turned and raked the graveyard frantically with his eyes. "I have to find him… I have to…"

"Who, me?"

Light whirled and stared at the man, who was now somehow sitting right on top of L's grave, his hands folded smugly, the beginnings of a smirk apparent on his face. "Why does little old me matter so much to Kira? Because of my information? Because of the threat I pose? In that case, you're hardly a god. What kind of god fears a mere mortal?"

Ryuk cackled. "He's got a point there, Light."

B, also known as Ryuzaki, turned toward the Shinigami and his smirk blossomed. How can he know where Ryuk is? wondered Light. Can he see…? "Maybe you should listen to your Shinigami, Light Yagami."

Ryuk laughed, surprised. "Uhh? You can see me?"

"I could see you from the moment I walked up to watch the funeral. What is your name, Shinigami?"

"Ryuk. I'd ask yours, but you probably know I don't have to."

B smirked and leaned against L's gravestone. "Of course."

Light was once again petrified. How can he see Ryuk? Does he have a Death Note? Ahh, of course he does… but there were only three Kiras! Higuchi, Misa and me… there was never any indication of another one! And he must still have the Death Note… he can see Ryuk. Wait, what am I thinking? Even if he had a Death Note he wouldn't be able to see Ryuk. He'd have to have the one that's locked up! What is going on?!

"Light-kun… can I ask you something?"

Light was jarred from his thoughts as B addressed him. He simply stared; he didn't grace him with an answer. B shrugged and asked, "Might I ask what gives you, of all people, the right to do what you're doing."

Light said nothing. He simply stood there, shaking. Is this it? The end of me being Kira…? No, I have to kill him! Restrain him at least… what should I do…? Should I physically attack him? "I thought so. You have no right, do you?"

Light was still silent. He had no knives on him, and there were no rocks within reach. Could he take him on in a fist fight? He was fairly thin, but Light had learned from his fights with L that that was no indication of strength or speed. Could he at least incapacitate him? He would have to try. Eventually. But not now. "So what are you going to do, L?" Light taunted B, stalling for time.

"What am I going to do now… what a question, what a question, so many different answers," blatantly ignoring the sarcasm of Light's last statement.

"Stop with the cryptic babble. I don't need your permission to become a god." The phrase struck Light as ridiculous.

It struck B as ridiculous too. He laughed wildly, head leaned against L's gravestone, mouth opened wide, the sounds of glee being emitted toward the sky. "God… god?! No, I suppose you don't... but you certainly make a terrible one. You are fallible, you're mortal, you're jealous and prideful, you're bloodthirsty and murderous, and yet you qualify as a 'god'? You sound more like a pathetic child with a god complexthan an actual god."

At that Light snapped. He roared and leapt toward B, prepared to kill him with his own hands if he had to. Normally Light was very cool, very contained. But he had been riding his emotions all night, from his long, maniacal laugh, to his gloating over L's grave, to his horror at seeing B for the first time to almost being incapacitated with shock when B had addressed Ryuk directly. He was feeling anger now… intense anger. Under normal circumstances, he would have never submitted to any such base urge as to try and pound someone's head in.

But who said this night was anywhere near normal?

When Light woke up he was lying on the grave, front side down, head cocked to the side. Someone was drilling screws into his head with a screwdriver. His whole body felt weak.

After a few minutes he realized that no one was putting anything into his head, but it was merely a splitting headache. He felt moisture on his head. Raising his hand, he felt something wet in his hair. He brought the hand down in front of his face. Blood. He felt something warm dripping down the side of his face. Blood. What had happened?

He groaned and turned so that he was lying on his back, then propped himself up onto L's grave. His eyes met B's. B was licking his fingers. Something red… jelly? No, it wasn't so viscous as jelly… Light was horrified when he realized B was licking Light's own blood from his fingers. B glanced at Light and grinned. "Ah, you're awake. Quite a spill you took there. Lots of blood. Face wounds tend to bleed a lot." He licked off the remaining blood then sucked the index finger of the other, which was also covered in blood. All the while Light simply stared.

B turned toward Light and grinned, red dripping down his lip, to his chin, onto the ground. "Would you like a taste?" He walked over and knelt in front of Light, still sucking his index finger. Light squirmed and tried to get away, but he was still too weak. B shoved his bloodied index and middle fingers into Light's mouth and laughed when Light bit them. Light practically gagged at the taste. It was metallic, bitter, with a very subtle note of sweetness, but nowhere near enough to cover the taste of… well… the essence of death. "You want more blood, do you? But you want mine this time?" He merely grinned as Light's bite grew weaker and weaker, and he eventually released B's fingers. B withdrew his fingers and wiped them on his jeans, then watched, seemingly mesmerized as more blood came from the cuts Light's teeth had made. Light cringed and tried to shuffle away, disgusted. "Kira, you are pathetic," B muttered even as he watched streams of red pour from the wounds and run down his fingers onto the hard packed earth. Drip. Drip. Drip. "Shedding blood is all well and good when you can do it so removed as to merely write a name, but when it comes to actually witnessing the blood being shed, well… you get squeamish. If you can kill someone with a notebook, surely you can kill someone with a knife." With that, B reached behind him and grabbed a knife. Its metal looked red in the receding daylight, and it glinted when B changed the angle by which he held it. Light's breathing grew heavier and he bit his lip, his eyes growing wide with fear. B turned to him and smirked, one side of his mouth turning upwards. "You think I'm going to be the one using the knife? Oh no, Kira… I know you want to kill me… here. You do it." With that, B handed Light the knife handle first. Light's fingers wrapped tentatively around the handle, but otherwise he made to move to take it from B's loose fingers. "What's the matter, Kira? Take it." Light tightened his grip on the knife and took it from B, glaring at him, still leaned against the gravestone, his head pounding, all his limbs heavy and hindered as if by molasses. I've got the knife… just kill him… through the heart… no, slice his throat… no, make him suffer, stab him in the abdomen, slice him open, let him bleed to death… but not matter how much he contemplated how he should kill B, he could never quite bring himself to actually take the knife and thrust it into B. B was sitting there, legs crossed, hands on his knees, chest, neck, stomach, head completely exposed. It would be so easy to just shove the knife through his heart and be done with it… or would it? Surely there would be evidence to connect him to the crime. It wasn't until then that he realized the handle was covered in a kind of foil. "In case you were thinking it'd be too easy for the authorities to catch you, all you'd have to do is remove the foil and voila, no fingerprints. You have the perfect alibi anyway…the chances you'd be caught is minimal."

Light's breathing grew heavier. He knew that what B was saying was true… why not just kill him?! The knife point was still pointed at B, but Light hadn't made any move toward him.

"Because it's so much different when you're actually standing there, holding the knife, having to be the one to take the stand and kill instead of having some supernatural notebook do it for you. Because it takes so much more courage to stay within the rules than to bend them… that's what the Death Note does… it cheats the designated lifespans and cuts people's lives fatefully… or rather anti-fatefully… short. It takes no effort at all, no sacrifice… except maybe one's sanity. But actually having to stand there and slide the knife across the person's throat… not so easy, is it?" At that, B unfolded his legs and knelt. He leaned forward until his face was right in Light's and the tip of the knife was digging slightly into the skin right above his ribcage, right where his heart was. "Come on Kira… it'd be so easy just to shove the knife forward a foot or so, wouldn't it? Be done with this and go back to being 'god'."

Light shivered and drew the knife back away from B's torso, then set it down by his own leg. "Why… why are you doing this?"

"To prepare you."

Light's eyes grew wide and he said, "What?! To prepare me for what?!"

"For your defeat. Do not be amazed when you are defeated… for you are not a god. You are a human. A fallible, unholy human with no real powers who got dragged into the supernatural. And on that day you die, remember our conversation, and wish you had forsaken this foolish journey of yours long ago." With that, B stood, took the knife from Light's limp hand, and melted into the red shadows of the night, leaving nothing but a small puddle of blood behind.