Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.
Summary: B hated nothing more than he hated fate, and A wanted a life worth living. For different reasons, L was important to them both. Rated M for language/violence/gore. Some spoilers for Death Note: Another Note, and my story The Worst Feeling Ever.
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Aleister Wept
It was as if he'd hidden this part of himself in order to deceive me, pretending – as do many people I've discovered – to be what he is not. No one I've ever known is what he appears to be on the surface.
– excerpt from "Flowers for Algernon," by Daniel Keyes
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2. Adagio
December 18, 1996
"Are you barking mad?"
"Aroooo!" The dark-haired boy leaned into the howl, hands on knees where he stood, before dissolving into laughter. "I'm a dog in heat, just like your mother!"
"Oh clever, so you're saying that not only was my Mum a bitch, so are you?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Henh, henh, henh – I'm more of a cunt than a bitch, so . . . yeah, just like your mom." The boy winked. "C'mon, Ally-oop, we used to do this all the time!"
Aleister rolled his eyes. "We're not kids anymore, Beyond – it's just silly at this point."
"So, it's silly. Don't be such a buzzkill."
"It's just . . ." Aleister crossed his arms and sat back down. "After our last jaunt took us across the pond and into the middle of an investigation that nearly got us all killed, nicking a car to joyride into town seems trivial at best."
"Well, it is trivial, but it'll still be fun. C'mon – for old times' sake?"
"Since when are you nostalgic for old times?"
"I dunno. I guess getting sliced up and left for dead infected me with sentimentality."
He stared into the other boy's face, the dark eyes reflecting nothing. Eventually, he sighed. "Honestly, Beyond, you needn't guilt me into it. I just wondered at the reason. You always have one."
"Maybe I've got plans you don't know about."
"That's the bit that worries me."
"Henh, henh, then you should thank me. You never feel complete without something to worry about." Beyond grinned.
"Hyperbolic nonsense. And there's plenty I could worry about without your adding to it." Aleister rubbed his chin with a knuckle. "What time then?"
Beyond's eyes lit up. "Three P.M. Broad daylight. They won't expect that. The kids'll still be in class, Roger will probably be on the phone again with Wammy –"
"What? I thought they'd already left Paris."
"They did, but something's up. Roger's still sneaking off to his office for phone calls. I overheard him working out the details for a new alias, but not one of L's. Whatever's going on, it's taken them to three different continents. The only thing I know for sure is Roger's eye will be off the ball this afternoon." Beyond tilted his head, still staring. "And hey, it's one week 'til Christmas and all the shop windows will be decorated in that fucking 'quaint' way you seem to like."
Aleister waved a hand upward as if shooing a fly. "Don't pretend you're doing this for me. I know better."
"OK, fine. I'm doing this for me. How's that?" Beyond shrugged and shuffled toward the door. "Meet me behind the stairs at three, and cover your tracks."
"You're not going to let me in on your supposed plans?"
"And ruin the surprise?" Beyond looked over his shoulder, eyebrow cocked. "Not on your life." And then he left the room.
"Why do I go along with these things . . ." Aleister muttered absently, though he knew why. He needed to engage his mind with things outside of it. Beyond needed support, and more than ever Aleister felt he might be the one person who could provide it, even if the only help he could offer was to keep Beyond's more destructive propensities in check. Certainly Beyond was not in the habit of openly discussing his feelings – unless those feelings happened to be anger or lust. This was as close as Aleister had ever seen him admit to liking Christmas, something Beyond had vehemently denied the first year they'd met.
Beyond enjoyed showing off his new scar, a tipped parenthesis arcing at the lower left edge of his ribcage, evidence of his having healed up nicely from the incident two months ago. Physically, at least. He still hid behind walls of bravado and snark, so it was difficult to tell how deep the psychological damage ran. Going on their annual pre-holiday lark could indicate that Beyond was coping by grasping at the familiar, and whether there was desperation in that or not, Aleister couldn't deny him such comfort. He felt that his friend might benefit from maintaining the tradition, whatever Beyond's unreasoned reasoning was. So they would ride into town, charge up the Wammy House credit card, cause some sort of mayhem, and get in trouble for it when they returned. All part of the ritual, something for the two of them alone. In a way, Aleister had been looking forward to it or something like it, despite what they'd just been through, despite how different things seemed now.
More worrisome were Beyond's other behaviors recently. He'd always had a habit of mimicking L – usually to his face, and always to mock him – but he'd started to incorporate some of L's habits into his own, seemingly minus the irony. The hunched-over stance, the blank staring, the head-tilting, the thumb at his lip . . . it was all there, and if Aleister called him on it, Beyond snapped at him, barking out denials. That was new. Previously, Beyond had been cheerful about admitting he was baiting him. So why pretend he's not? Aleister wondered. Is he really not conscious of it?
Pushing off with one foot, Aleister spun in his chair to face his desk. His mostly empty desk. He'd already finished his final thesis on astrophysics after completing his detailed account of the events in Toronto for the archived case file. Frankly, he was bored. He considered going downstairs to see what the other Wammy House residents were up to, but he somehow felt drained despite not having expended much energy all day.
Depression, is it? Aleister sighed, moving the mouse to disrupt the screensaver, winged kitchen appliances disappearing. Not a good sign, he thought. Perhaps a distraction . . . He swallowed. I shouldn't do this – it won't help . . . But as ever, his hands disobeyed his conscience as he accessed the codes and hacked into Roger's files to trace the last infodump the man had received from the field. After a few moments, the screen filled with data.
Bloody hell, Australia? Aleister marveled, staring at the itineraries and case details. He supposed that Beyond might not have been exaggerating this time if they'd gone all the way down there from Europe. He scrutinized the information on the case, but his fears were not confirmed: there was no indication that Eraldo Coil was involved in this at all, and it seemed doubtful that Deneuve was either. Then why is my stomach in knots? Aleister wondered. L and Watari weren't in any more danger than usual, and in fact had been taking steps to stay safer. The feeling of trepidation wouldn't leave him, despite the facts staring him in the face. Maybe it's that things seem too normal when they shouldn't. Or maybe it's that I know he's not coming home this time.
Aleister broke the link and removed all traces of his systemic ingress. No one had told him that L wasn't coming home for Christmas, but he was certain it was true. L hadn't bothered to come home for his birthday this year, and both Watari and Roger had been spinning the notion for months that L wasn't the real L but a proxy. Aleister didn't think it was fooling anyone, except possibly the youngest residents, but he played along. If it adds to their safety, he thought, I'm all for it. It wouldn't change anything for me if he weren't the 'real' L – well, I suppose it might change some things. Aleister rubbed his temples.
As much as there might be out in the world that threatened L's safety, what Aleister most wished was that L would be safe from himself. The decisions he'd been making had shown a disquieting trend toward the darker shades or moral grey. Their last conversation had been an argument on that exact subject, and had ended unsurprisingly at another stalemate. Thinking of what L might become if the trend continued filled Aleister with dread. So much was at stake, much more than just the personal relationships of a handful of orphans. And if L continued to stay away from Wammy House . . . I don't want our last conversation to have been us shouting at each other, he thought. Even if we never agree, I want him to know I'm on his side.
He couldn't tell Beyond that. Beyond hated L. Despite having the intelligence and insight to understand more of the nuances and complexities of the world around them than most people, Beyond always chose to focus and act on extremes. Aleister wondered sometimes if it was due to overstimulation, emotional and otherwise. He's always going too far, he thought. It's a wonder he hasn't looped himself yet. With a start, Aleister realized that he was worrying about both L and Beyond for somewhat similar reasons, and he frowned. Blimey, Beyond's got me conflating the two of them in my head now – that's never good. I know the differences. Some things are inescapable. Aleister closed his eyes and took a slow breath.
Finding himself rolling backwards, arm outstretched toward the hidden spot behind his bed, Aleister felt his hands go sweaty. He didn't have the energy to admonish himself at this point as he pulled the laptop out of the wall compartment he'd made. No one else knew about this, and no one needed to know. My secret, my time. The laptop had the advantage of not being networked with the rest of Wammy House, and he wouldn't be using it to access the internet anyway. Glad of his auto-locking bedroom door, Aleister booted up his secret computer and prepared to access a certain set of files – images saved that should never have been kept – taking his own risks and a turn toward another kind of darkness.
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Author's Note: I'm including dates to keep things as clear as I can. Those dates sync up with the manga timeline, though it's not strictly necessary to keep that in mind. More to come soon.
Thanks for reading!
Definition: Adagio – "at ease"; slow in tempo
Songs: "Naked Eye" – Luscious Jackson
"AEnima" – Tool