Sometimes I feel
Like I don't have a partner
Sometimes I feel
Like my only friend
Is the city I live in
The city of Angels
Lonely as I am
Together we cry
I drive on her streets
'Cause she's my companion
I walk through her hills
'Cause she knows who I am
She sees my good deeds and
She kisses me windy and
I never worry
Now that is a lie
-Under the Bridge, Red Hot Chili Peppers
(A'S POV)
I could hardly summon the will to get out of bed the next morning. There was no point. I wanted nothing more than to lay right there and die. Still, I forced myself to pull myself out of my dreams, and went downstairs, wondering if I could summon the will to eat. I felt nauseous, my stomach was twisting in aching knots.
"Good morning, A!" I turned around. Beyond was smiling at me with the happiest expression I had ever seen. He was completely different from what he was before. He seemed just like any other kid.
"Leave me alone," I told him.
"What s wrong, A? Did you have a nightmare?"
I looked down at my shoes, refusing to look into those bright red eyes.
"No. No, it wasn't that. I'm fine, really."
Beyond seemed to accept that. He grabbed me wrist, giggling like a little girl, and dragged me down to the dining room.
What was wrong with him? Just last night, he had glared at me. Laughed at me. And now, not even five hours later, he was acting like I was his best friend. Was he insane? Really, truly insane? Which Beyond Birthday was the true Beyond Birthday? The happy, smiling schoolboy, eating toast with strawberry jam beside me, or the raging psychopath that had mocked me? Maybe he was both.
Or, Perhaps he was neither. Maybe his various personae were just a coping mechanism. To help him deal with the trauma he had been through. Everyone seemed to have their own way of dealing with their problems.
Everyone except me. My wounds remained raw, and bleeding.
I considered the possibility that Beyond might have multiple personalities, but quickly dismissed it. Beyond might have suffered some severe trauma as a child, but he was too strong willed for even his subconcious to pull a trick like that. No, every part of Beyond was within tangible reach for him. Every part of Beyond was accessible. But that left even more questions swarming in my already spinning mind. What the heck was Beyond's problem? Why was he so... psychotic?
I glanced over my shoulder at the giant clock that hung on the north wall of the dining room.
"B, when is L getting home?" I asked.
Oh, not until tonight. Beyond had suddenly become quiet, his voice a flat monotone, face smooth and expressionless. He stared aimlessly at something in the distance.
What was wrong with him?
He stood up.
"I'm going to head over to class now," he said, in a stiffly polite tone, before leaving the room. I stared after him, wondering just how many masks Beyond wore to hide his true face.
(B'S POV)
He just had to mention L, didn't he? The moment he mentioned L, I became painfully aware of his absence. I missed him. I wanted him there beside me. I wanted him to hold me, to run his fingers through my hair. I wanted him to kiss me, like I imagined him doing in my dreams. I wanted him to...
L pressed me onto the mattress softly, slipping his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He kissed me, his skilled tongue enticing me. No wonder he could tie all of those cherry stems together so perfectly...
"Are you sure?" He asked me. I nodded feverishly. I wanted this so badly...
I cringed with the pain as he prepared me, long fingers probing me gently, scissoring ever so slightly. He pulled them out with calculated care. And then, another part of him -the one I wanted in me more than anything- slid into me slowly. It hurt, but it was a good kind of pain. He rocked in and out of me, reducing me into a mess of moans and strangled cries as he kissed me in all the right places.
His hand continued to work their magic on me. I threw my head back, moaning his name. With one last thrust, one last tug on my own hard cock, I was brought to a shuddering climax.
I shook my head violently. I wasn't sure that I should be having those kinds of thoughts at my age. I was only ten. But, oh, I wanted it so badly. My soul ached with desire for him. My mentor. My first friend. My first love.
I wondered how L would react if he knew of the erotic dreams I'd been having of him. The dreams that gave me relief from my nightmares, but only heightened my desires. I pushed the thought out of my mind. I would worry about that some other time.
He had been the one who comforted me when I first came to Wammy's House. He coaxed out of me what nobody else could. He prodded the tender wounds in my heart, but he did it in such a way that it didn't hurt. In fact, it relieved the pain, and caused the truth to flow forth freely.
"We can't get him to talk to any of us."
"Maybe we can get L to talk to him."
A raven-haired boy -L Lawliet, the name above his head had read- stepped into the room and crouched down in the chair across from me. I pouted and looked away.
"So, your name is Rue, isn't it?"
I nodded stiffly.
"That s a good name. Mine is-"
"L. I know."
He scratched his head.
"Rue, we need you to tell us what happened, okay?"
I shook my head violently.
"Rue, I know you're in pain right now. I know some terrible things happened to you back there. But I need to tell me about it, or it will never feel any better."
Tears began to burn in my eyes.
"You can tell me anything. I'm not mad at you, and you're not in any trouble. I just want to know what happened."
His voice was quiet, gentle, nice, pleading...
"He called me devil boy," I said, quietly. "He said my mommy was a demon whore."
L immediately looked quite upset.
"Why would he say something like that?"
"I dunno! I don't even know what a 'whore' is! He just came in, yelled at us, and then he stabbed my mommy!" I was bawling at that point, a terrible heap of pitiful sobbing. L stood from his perch and walked up to me. He wrapped his arms around me, and hugged me. I cried into his chest, screaming, letting out my pent-up frustration.
He became my friend, helping me whenever there was something wrong. And I loved him for it. The fact of the matter was, I had become rather dependent on L. When he was around, I was happy. When he was gone, I was miserable. That was how it had always been. Wasn't that what love was?
I was alone in the classroom. Lessons wouldn't start for another twenty minutes.
I closed my eyes, allowing myself to once again slip into that world of lustful fantasies; of L wanting me, touching me, saying that he loved me...I wanted that so much. But I knew I would have to wait. Until I was a few years older, at the very least.
I'd make the wait worth it.
(NEAR'S POV)
The bells rang loudly, and classes began.
While the professor lectured us on some principal of physics, I fiddled around with some finger puppets. I had drawn the faces of my
family on them, acting out different scenarios I wish would have happened.
I had my parents tell me that they loved me.
Martha did a puzzle with me.
They clapped when I read aloud to them.
I loved my fantasy world: it was so much better than reality.
Mello turned around to look at me. He smirked at the finger puppets I'd made.
"Baby," he said condescendingly. I shrunk back, trying not to let my hurt show.
"Stop it, Mel," Matt snapped. "Don't be a hypocrite. You know It's not right to pick on someone."
"But-"
"Stop it, Mello. It's never right to make fun of someone who hasn't done anything wrong."
Why? Why did I always have to rely on others to protect me? When would I be strong enough not to run and hide every time something hurt me? I looked at my puppets. I would content myself with them for now. Until the day I had rid myself of all my useless, weakening emotions. Until I could take care of myself.
Until then, I would have to let Matt be the barrier protecting me from Mello's petty teasing.
Matt was still chewing Mello out under his breath, anger on his face. It was amusing how angry Matt could get when Mello was being mean. Matt was many things; lackadaisical, unmotivated, easygoing, and more than a bit lazy, but I suppose he wasn't one to stand idly by when someone was in trouble. He'd gotten beaten up and harassed more than once because of his kind nature.
That was his problem. He was too kind. And Mello was too angry. But something about that intrigued me. That raw, unbridled hotheadedness that Mello could display at the slightest provocation. The pure determination he had when he wanted something.
I sighed. Why couldn't I be like that? the only motivation I had was to gain L's approval. Nothing more. Nothing less. Mello wanted to be L, and actively pursued that goal.
While playing basketball in gym class, I noticed something. When I played, I wanted my side to win, though I didn't much care how we did it. I would sit out when necessary, play when I had to, the works. And if we lost, oh well. Mello, on the other hand, wanted to be the star. The one who scored the winning point. He'd play as long and hard as he could, only sitting out when he had no other choice, and getting back in the game as soon as possible. He refused to stay down or accept defeat. As for Matt... I believe that he participated simply for the sake of having a game to play. He spent most of the time on the sidelines, but always cheered us on. He just wanted to have fun.
Our team won the match. Matt and Mello high-fived, then hugged. Then, we went to our next class. Mello went on and on about it.
Matt listened, with a satisfied grin. I trailed behind them, like a half-inflated balloon.
And so, the game of basketball ended, and the game of life continued.
B/N: Ooh~ Fast update! How was that? What did you think about the LxBB fantasy? Did we do good? Review and tell us! ;)
