Ah ha! Welcome to yet another important-but-still-a-filler chapter! Hopefully this will answers any questions that you may have from the last chapter, but in case it doesn't the Author's Notes at the bottom will explain it better. If you still have questions, feel free to ask them in a review! Now, carry on and enjoy the chapter. :)
The incessant beeping was seriously pissing L off. He tried to find the source of the noise, but he couldn't open his eyes. There was something heavy on his face. Flexing his fingers, the world's greatest detective shuddered in pain. His whole body felt like it was on fire. "W-watari?" he barely managed to croak. Even his throat felt parched.
There was a slight pressure to the back of his hand and he realized that he had been tensed up. "L, I'm right here."
The older man's voice calmed him down a considerable amount. "Am I…in a hospital?" His brain was reacting slower than usual, making it quite difficult for him to think straight.
"Yes. Wedy was able to get you out of there before Ms. Misora came down."
There? L puzzled over his situation for a moment before a rush of images assaulted his cerebral cortex. He had come to the right answer, but far too late. "B?" he whispered, fearing the worst. Surely no one could survive being in the middle of that inferno.
"He's survived," Mr. Wammy informed L somberly, "but unfortunately he is in the intensive care unit and isn't expected to live much longer."
Pain stung in his chest, but L just marked it up to his burns. "And Aiber?"
"He was standing in front of you when the flashover happened, so he took the brunt of the damage. The inside of his lungs have been seared, and he has first, second, and third degree burns all over the front of his body."
"Is he going to live?"
"Of course. And once the plastic surgeon I hired does his job, no one will ever know that he had been charbroiled like a slab of meat."
"Well, that's encouraging; at least he won't blame me for ruining his good looks."
"I made sure of that, L." Watari spared a chuckle.
"Now, why can't I open my eyes?"
"You suffered some minor burns on your face, so I wanted them to cover the wounds so that you wouldn't scratch at them."
"…" What, was he a child? Soon enough, a comfortable silence fell over the two of them, but L's mind was running on overdrive. "Watari, call Misora. There are some things that I need to clarify with her, some loose ends that need tying off."
"Yes, L."
~_~_~_~_~_
Naomi Misora sat beside her bed, feeling numb. The god-awful sound of that explosion was still echoing in her ears. She could feel herself racing down the stairs with her still wet hair clinging to her neck. If only she hadn't been in the shower, if only she hadn't slept in! Squeezing her eyes shut, Naomi finally let her mind wander to a place that she had hoped to ignore.
"Was…it all fake?" she mumbled to herself.
There, she finally asked it. Did Rue Ryuzaki really care for her at all or was him sleeping with her simply to keep her out of his hair as he carried out the last of his murders? L had already told her that Ryuzaki was B, a candidate to become his successor, but that the pressure of that had driven him off track. He also told her that he was making sure that it would be reported that Naomi was the only one who had discovered B and that she was the one who had kept him alive. Well, all of that wasn't really false. She had indeed raced down to the room to find the burning man. The sickening smell of burning human flesh was still haunting her nightmares. She had done the only thing she could: she grabbed the fire extinguisher and hosed down everything. It took her a while to realize that there was another man lying in the hallway, unconscious and burned. Still, she had cradled Ryuzaki in her arms and checked for vital signs. The thought that he was the true murderer never entered her mind, and it wasn't until that other woman showed up to get the unknown man out of the condo that she realized that she was crying.
It was really stupid of her, she decided; stupid to get involved with such an obviously shady character like Ryuzaki. How had he managed to get into her pants? There wasn't anything remotely attractive about him, he had weird habits, and he had been creepy to the nth degree. Lies, she would keep lying to herself. Otherwise, how could she face Raye? He had been faithful to her and only her; it wouldn't even be surprising if he proposed to her soon. In turn, she had abandoned common sense and participated in a relationship with a covert murderer. A powerful and intriguing murderer. A bastard who probably never cared about her.
She wanted to cry or scream, but such things would only make her more foolish. Naomi refused to be like those other women who were so undeniably weak. No, she would return to her duties at the FBI soon, and she would be able to look Raye in the eye and act like nothing happened. He didn't have to know that she had slept with another man. The marks on her body were evidence enough, though, and she could always see them. It would be a very long time before she would be able to forget the feeling of those hands, those lips, that hot fevered flesh. Holding herself tightly, she remembered that animalistic look in his eyes, the way that he moved his body as if he were a different person entirely. He was still the hunched over freak of nature, but at the same time he was something far above and beyond that. He was Beyond all that…
Sighing, Naomi thought back to what L had told her. It wasn't surprising that he wanted to cover up the real happenings. As a matter of fact, it worked out well for her. L didn't know she slept with B and no one else would have to know. Everything would be swept under the rug, the mistakes on both of their parts. The great detective had even pulled some strings in order to get her back into the FBI without a mention about her working independently on her time off. There was even a suspiciously large sum of money deposited into her bank account recently. A bribe to keep silent? Or was it a thank-you of sorts? Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she didn't want to think anymore. Having worked under the great L himself was good enough for her record; she would not think back on this case anymore. She decided that by the time she got back to work, she would have pushed the memories of this painful case to the back of her mind. Life would return to its normalcy, its dull normalcy.
Submitting to a deeper part within, she pulled up her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, much like a certain someone she knew.
~_~_~_~_~_
On September 1st, Naomi left her house on foot, headed for the nearest subway station. When she reached her office, her superior would return her badge, her gun, and her handcuffs (she wouldn't think of the other handcuffs). The thought was a little embarrassing, and she felt a few butterflies in her stomach, but when it was over she would be back to her old life.
"Mmm?"
The station entrance had just come into view, and standing in front of it was an awkward, uncomfortable-looking man. A young man, with an intense expression. There were lines under his eyes so dark she wondered if they were actually done with makeup. Like he hadn't slept in days—no, like he had never slept in his life. Like his sense of justice would not allow him time to sleep, since he had so many difficult cases to think about, battling unfathomable pressure on a daily basis. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt and blue jeans. His pale feet were crammed directly into beaten sneakers.
As Naomi pondered over the uncanny similarities between this young man and a certain young man she had recently engaged with, L was trying his hardest not to bolt back to his Rolls Royce parked several hundred yards away. He was unaccustomed to being in such a loud and crowded place, and every instinct was telling him to flee the unknown. It didn't help that the hairline fracture in his foot from his feeble attempt to kick the door down was killing him or that the concussion he had received was throbbing painfully. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that he had to thank Naomi. Without her help, B might have died already and he would have lost. Still, it didn't make his little trek into the real world any more pleasant. The bandaged burns hidden beneath his baggy clothing was itching uncomfortably. Thankfully, the burns on his face were mostly healed, leaving only a few patches of shiny red skin.
"Um, have we…?" Naomi asked, interrupting his train of thought. She could have ignored him and walked on inside, but she really couldn't help herself. He reminded her so much of…
Staring at the able woman who had helped him solve the case, L realized that he hadn't thought of what he would do or say to her. He couldn't well say "Hi, I'm L. Thanks for the help on the case!" That would be stupid. He quickly deduced that a hug was probably a safe bet. Of course, he forgot the simple facts that Naomi didn't have the slightest clue as to who he was and that going around and randomly hugging women wasn't socially acceptable.
"Huh?! No!"
Clearly, she mistook his good-natured action as an attack and responded accordingly. In an impressive show of her capoeira, she did a backbend twist kick thingy that hit the detective right on the shoulders. Tender burnt shoulders of course. Both blows hit hard, and the impact knocked him off balance. With a thunderous crash, he tumbled down the subway stairs.
Just as quickly as she had attacked the young man, Misora felt a sting of guilt. Perhaps she had gone a little overboard. She righted herself immediately and ran down the stairs to check up on him. "Are you ok?" she asked.
He was lying on his stomach like a crushed frog. "I see," he muttered, seemingly talking to himself. "Watching videos and seeing it for real is quite different, but now I think I understand." Not that he was trying to get a live-action demonstration of the martial arts that had piqued his interest ever since he heard about it, but his being attacked had proved to be educational.
Naomi had no clue as to what this strange person was talking about, but she still tried to help him. "Um…can you stand?" she asked as she reached out toward him.
L looked up and took the offered hand. "Thank you." That was twice that he had acknowledged his thanks.
"Are you injured? Does it hurt anywhere?" she asked concernedly as she pulled him upright.
"I'm fine, thank you," he said, not letting go of her hand. In some strange way, it was like they were shaking hands. It was a lot less painful than his failed attempt at giving her a hug. He was also a little surprised that she had taken the time to make sure that he was well. "You are very kind," he said, with something like a smile, and at last let go of her hand. Then, ignoring the pain all of his body was bothering him with, he tottered away as if nothing at all had happened, slowly climbing the stairs again. He had accomplished his purpose and it was time to get back to work.
"Ah…w-wait! Just a second!"
Misora had almost let him go, but a moment later she ran after him, circling around in front of him again. She was an FBI agent and could not let an assault crime go unpunished. The young man was sucking his thumb. He didn't appear to be at all nervous.
"If you aren't hurt, then you'll have to come with me. Sexual assault is a serious crime. You can't go around throwing your arms around women. What were you thinking?"
"…" He wasn't afraid that she was going to arrest him.
"Don't just stand there. Say something. This attitude won't make things easier for you. What's your name?"
Naomi Misora had asked his name. An idea struck L just as her high-heeled boots had struck him earlier. He nodded to himself and answered. "Please call me Ryuzaki," he said, unperturbed.
Just like someone else had.
~_~_~_~_~_
Ceaseless pain, hours of ceaseless pain. Beyond felt agony in much of his body, but what scared him even more was the lack of any feeling at all in the rest of his body. It had become obvious to him for the past few hours that he wasn't dead, but if he couldn't feel parts of his own body, he could only imagine the worst. It was impossible for him to open his eyes or even more to further investigate. So, unable to do anything but think, his rage and devastation began to eat away at him. He wasn't dead, so he had failed.
All that work, all those years, all those deaths…all failure. Pointless.
For the first time in a long while, B felt like crying shamefully, but he wasn't even able to do that. No, he was trapped inside his dying body unable to do anything but stew in his own shame and insanity. In the midst of his agony, B came to a daunting realization; that comforting voice that was always whispering sweetly in his mind was silent. He had heard nothing but the artificial breathing machine and the beeping of various instruments struggling to keep him tied to this infernal world. No chastisements, no comforts, nothing.
He tried to ignore the panic that was building up inside him, but as the minutes ticked away, loudly and constantly, he began to break down. Damn it, where was that voice, where was it when he needed it?!
"Hnnn, Aaaaa…"
It was impossible to even communicate properly, but the sudden increase of his heart rate, and the way his blood pressure shot up to dangerously high levels was enough for even a simpleton nurse to realize that something was terribly wrong with Beyond. He wanted to scream for Almost, scream for him to come back, but it all seemed fruitless. There was no voice, no sudden sense of calmness or completion.
"Alllgssst," he muttered with his leaden tongue, slowly forcing his damaged body to move.
There was nothing but darkness surrounding him, and he felt very alone. That ticking, damned ticking! It was driving him crazy, and that emptiness! God, he wanted to hear again, to hear that sweetly toxic voice that would assure him that everything would be ok or beg him to come away. He was ready to leave, but he couldn't! Without Almost, he couldn't find his way, he would be lost! An inhuman scream of agony echoed across the entire floor of the hospital as he realized how very much alone he was.
His shinigami eyes were useless to him now, and he had nothing else. No one who cared, no purpose, no love, nothing. Bleeding fingers clenched desperately for something solid, but only air slipped through, mocking his pain. More fiery pain pulsed through his body as he flailed in the stiff bed. Unknown hands grabbed him, holding him down, suffocating him. There were voices, but his mind could no longer translate sound into meaningful information, all he heard was the ticking.
Tick, tock, tick, tock…
~_~_~_~_~_
L worried his thumb as he stared past the glass into the ICU where his ex-Backup was struggling to live. Every inch of him was bandaged neatly with extra padding around his forearms and ankles so that the heavy duty straps could hold him down without doing permanent damage. He had been fading in and out of consciousness for the past few weeks and each time he came to, he would go into a frenzy, damaging himself and others. Looking down at his own bandages, he wondered how B could stand that apparent agony. The doctors were saying that although parts of his body had the nerves seared off, the majority of his flesh had been burned just enough to expose the sensitive pain receptors. Any kind of touch would be translated into excruciating pain. How was it possible that he was still alive?
Observant eyes watched curiously as the heart monitor picked up the increase in his heart rate and another machine showed brain activity increasing. Sadly, he was waking up again. L looked both ways down the clean white hall before slipping out of his seat. Each step took him closer to the room (person) that he didn't want to see, but his curiosity propelled him forward. Far too quickly, he was standing in the crammed room where the smell of charred flesh permeated everything. Beyond was moaning something quietly before he choked back a whimper.
"Beyond?" he whispered, hoping that this time the younger of the two of them would be able to reason.
The mass of blood and bandages squirmed a little. Then it spoke in a cracked, hoarse voice. "Alllnaa? 'Most Alvay?"
Great, he was still delirious. "B, it's L."
Bandaged fingers curled a little. "Always," he replied clearly, his pain seemingly forgotten for the moment. "Almost Always."
L tilted his head thoughtfully. Why would B be calling for A? He had been dead for years now, and other than their sexual encounters, no one could say that they were particularly close. Other Letters mentioned that they didn't get along well, and that they would avoid each other if at all possible. But then again, everyone tried to avoid Beyond. Still, it was something he had never understood, and finding out that they had been sexually involved only furthered his confusion. It wasn't an important question, though, so he had filed it away in favor of complicated cases.
"A is dead, Backup."
Only the beeping machines were heard as the injured man tried to soak in the words. "A…no, Meeell…oh…"
"No," L snapped immediately, "you won't be seeing Mello." A strange feeling clenched in his chest at the thought of that happy boy coming to see this. "You won't be seeing Mello again."
Unfortunately, the detective had pushed a little too hard. B began to fight against his restraints in a panic, and began screaming incomprehensible nonsense. Blood began seeping between his wrappings and all of the computers seemed to be shrieking now. Not knowing what else to do, L slipped out of the room and back to his seat before a horde of nurses came rushing in, pumping morphine into the crazed man to try to settle him back down.
~_~_~_~_~_
"They've had to put B into a drug induced coma," Watari mumbled casually.
L continued to watch the scenery swim past his window as his private jet made the long journey back home. It was strange how he never really considered Wammy's House a home until recently. He really didn't want to ponder that thought for too long because he was concerned where that particular line of thought would take him.
"That's unfortunate. Still, it's a wonder that he's still alive."
"I guess it's just not his time to go, L."
The detective decided that Watari's statement was a much safer train of thought to follow. The idea that people had a time limit on their lives seemed so ludicrous. But if it were true, he wondered how much longer he had left.
Tick, tock, tick, tock…
Author's Notes: So, pretty much this is what really happened, but L couldn't well let the world (or Mello) know all that. And Misora didn't want the fact that she slept with Beyond to get out either, so when the story was given out officially (and to Mello), they spun the truth a little to hide the mistakes made. And poor Aiber wasn't mentioned at all, lol. Which he should have considering that he took the brunt of the flames for L. -pets poor Aiber-
So, I hope that you enjoyed the chapter and the next chapter should be a bit more exciting! Let's see, there are about two more chapters before Kira arrises and the storyline will pick up more from then on out. Sadly, I will stay true to canon event (unless it needs a little more embellishing of course) so L must...you know. -cries in a corner- After that, the focus will be on Matt and Mello out of Wammy's as well as some of Near trying to build up enough of a reputation to be taken seriously by the President of the United States. So, this is turning out to be an epic, but I hope it will be an enjoyable epic.
The next chapter: Mello struggles with adolescense and all of his feelings. Does he love L or does he love Matt? Maybe even both? Also, L will talk to the Wammy kids through the computer.
