A/N: Aaand I hate myself for looooving youuu~

I'm a bleeding sonuvabitch, you should all pelt me with rotting feces. I'm srs.

Oh, and I'm going to be editing and re-writing the previous chapters. A lot of shit has happened, and I also had downtime. I watched almost all of the Death Note episodes (only need to watch ep.34) and I read/bought Death Note: Another Note. And, might I say that I love that book? And Mello is officially the most bad-ass motherfucker on the planet.

End of story. And I hope you all had a Merry Christmas (or Hanukkah) and a Happy New Year!

Disclaimer: If I owned Death Note, Shidoh and Mello would've had a chocolate-eating contest, Light would have repented for his murders and become a stripper, and L would have gone on a sugar-induced rampage. On Matsuda. But none of that happened, so I must assume that I do not, in fact, own it. :B

Two days had passed, L had estimated, since the previous incident. And, regrettably so, they had become more mundane and predictable than he would have ever guessed would be since the initial kidnapping.

If L were to try to attack B, this would result in the very gruesome, very painfully horrific tearing of a fingernail. Beyond would dig under his nail with a needle, scraping and cutting the fragile, susceptible skin hidden. And, while L would bit his lip in a vain attempt to keep from showing his discomfort, Beyond would poke around the cuticle, in his attempt to loosen the nail from its hinges. Then, by the time L was close to tears, he would tear off the brittle nail and thus proceed in waving the item tauntingly in L's face, as if to embarrass him and cause him a sort of disgrace.

If L, perhaps, ignored Beyond in the midst of one of his tyrannical "speeches," he would thus be on the end of having chunks of his hair torn from the roots, inevitably taking the innocent flesh of his scalp and leaving behind a horrible mess of blood that would coagulate and scab over, leaving a horrible, tantalizing itch that would last for hours.

There was no reason for L to be complaining, really. He knew that Beyond had much more potential to do harm, and he should be thanking every single god that he knew in existence—but it was becoming mundane.

Maybe, at the root of it all, he was becoming some sort of a masochist.

L snorted at the idea, though he made sure that Beyond hadn't heard him.

Oh god, he was talking to himself. Maybe it was L who was the psychopath, and Beyond was just bringing him back to sanity it a sadistic, murderous manner. Then again, L rolled his eyes, that could be wrong. He was eighty-seven percent sure that he was the one losing his sanity, and that it was Beyond's fault. And, he was one-hundred percent sure that if he kept making inane calculations and percentages that he would, most definitely, lose his mind.

So he took to watching Beyond, because he'd rather not dwell on himself of his body any longer than necessary. He shuddered to imagine the state he was in; he wasn't one for vanity, but he also did not want to look like he'd been put through a grinder.

He made some digressions and returned to his B-watching. He looked somewhat perturbed at the moment, wringing his gangly appendages through his midnight black hair. While he was feigning sleep, he'd overheard bits and pieces of a conversation Beyond had with Light and the team. Apparently, the had made a breakthrough, and judging by the tone of Beyond's voice, he was none too happy of it.

Of course, bad news for B meant good news for L. He really didn't want to die, seeing as that is an unfortunate event for any one being. Especially in the midst of all the new discoveries that had been unveiled. Death Gods, killing notebooks, and all of these other events that happened before his very eyes..

It was, he considered, unfair- Unjust.

So, heaving a heavy, though much-needed, sigh, L hoped. Hoped that Light and Mello and Near would combine and overcome their vast differences and save him.

"You're such a pretentious little prick!" Mello snapped, glaring at Light with the utmost vehemence. "You're just like Near, except I think he'd be much more pleasant company than a little pretty boy know-it-all who feels as though he has entitlement!"

Light rolled his eyes, crossing one leg over the other and fixing Mello a blank stare. "Are you done? Because, unlike you, the rest of us are working."

Another poisonous look, and the blond growled. He walked over to Matt and leaned over, snatching possible locations and train stations in the area. "These are the ones, right?"

Matt nodded with a slight smile. "Yep. Given the arrival times and departures given through each call, we've managed to limit it down to three possible locations. Why?"

Mello smirked, looking his best friend straight in the eye. "Oh, no reason. I just want to be productive." He sauntered over to the couch before throwing himself at it, landing with a soft thud on the cushions. He stared at the map, assessing each station in accordance to the point in which he was now, his shining blue eyes analyzing the paper with cold proficiency.

"Hm." Mello blinked, biting his lip. It was then he realized that he really, really needed a bar of chocolate. And maybe some cheap liquor. "I'm going for a walk."

"Where to?" Light sent Mello a look, and concealed his general curiosity.

"Oh, nowhere really. I feel like chocolate."

"Is that all?" Near inquired, surreptitiously smirking at the vile glare he received. It didn't bother him in the least that he was close to a pistol-whipping.

"Yes."

"Liar."

Mello fumed, clenching his fists. "Near, I swear to God.."

"I'll come with you." Light stood, casting Mello a weary eye. "I really don't trust you, and would rather be with you in public that have you risk Ryuuzaki's safety."

"Whatever." Mello shrugged, motioning to put on his coat. "Any other passengers? Matsuda? Matt?" Mello emphasized the latters name with a blatant look. Matt sighed and stood.

"Coming!"

They departed in a haze of leather, yelling, and some sort of oddly clashing fashion sense that blurred with each other to create some sort of screeching harmony. And Near sighed.

He knew what Mello was going to do. The boy wasn't too good at hiding his emotions, just as Near wasn't good at showing emotions.

With a quick twirl of his hair, he returned to his toys, deciding against telling the rest of the Investigation team. It was no use rallying them up—they'd never stop him in time.

A/N: Woof. This is really, really short. I need to edit this one, too. Don't worry, though, I promise I'll stop sucking.

So yeah, anything. Talk to me. Review. Whatevski, bro.