January 15th

When Light comes home he goes straight up to his bedroom. He doesn't say hello to Sayu because she's just committed suicide in her room. Later on, she comes up to his room and he helps her with her homework. She's never been very good with maths, and it's a welcome distraction from L.

December 9th

Beyond's allowed to make one call per week if he's good and docile and doesn't try and injure anyone. If he's not good, he only gets to make one every six weeks, but that's enough, and he can still hurt people. Anyway, he can use those six weeks to plan out what he's going to say. If he doesn't plan it'll be a waste.

He's been in here since September 2005. So far he has made 9 calls, and all of them have been to his darling L. They have such fascinating conversations. It's a shame he never answers the phone. It's okay, though, because Beyond always leaves messages. He's sure L loves the messages the way Beyond hates that he hasn't heard L's voice in years.

He's got today's message all planned out, and he goes through it as the phone rings. It'll ring four times and then it'll say 'please leave a message after the tone' and then he can leave the message. It's going to be a really fun one today. He's going to tell L to have a really nice Christmas, and then talk about that time at Wammy's when it was Christmas, one of their few days off, and Beyond had set fire to the Christmas tree. Maybe he'll sing a carol if the guard hasn't taken the phone off him by that point.

The phone rings two times, and then L answers, but his voice doesn't sound like L.

"Hello?" he says, "who is this?" all in Japanese, as if he doesn't recognise the number, but L knows this number, L knows it's him. So if the person answering doesn't recognise the number and they don't know who Beyond is, then it isn't L. If it isn't L then that means L must be in trouble, and that means Beyond has to help him.

"Hello, it's me. Of course it's me." He keeps his voice calm.

"Who's there? How did you get this number?"

"Your friend, your best friend, the best friend you ever had. You gave me the number when you got me put in here. Remember that time I nearly broke your neck when I threw you off the roof?"

'L' pauses. "I remember that. Why are you calling?"

"You're not the real L." Beyond would never throw L off a roof, because that might kill him, and then what would he do? It's quite hard to effectively impersonate a corpse. "You're a fake and that's awful. You're awful, you really are."

It really is awful. How is he meant to help L when he's stuck in here? The answer is, of course, that he can't. Isn't it strange how the guard next to him has such a short lifespan?

December 25th

Matt seems to know what he's doing, which probably means he doesn't have a clue. Near has far less of a clue and so she has no choice but to follow him through the dark streets. It's cold out here. The material of her pajamas is thin. Matt's warm, so she clings to his arm until he pries her off. "What are you, five?"

"I'm thirteen," she mumbles.

"It's a figure of speech."

"I'm cold."

Matt sighs, taking his cigarette out of his mouth for a moment. "Well - put on a coat."

"I didn't bring a coat."

"Put on some other clothes or something, I dunno. There's a motel round here, pretty cheap rooms, we should be able to stay there for the night. It should be warm enough."

The motel is dirty, and the lobby carries the reek of sweat and smoke. It really isn't the right place for two teenagers, but it's only £20 for a room for the night, and so they have to settle for it because Matt didn't bring enough money for rooms anywhere else. It's better than sleeping in the street. The bed looks like it hasn't been cleaned since 2003 and the shower has suspicious stains in it; at least it's warm and they're free.

They're actually free, and the thought makes Near's heart sink. There's nobody to take care of them, and they're probably going to die in a sleazy motel somewhere near Winchester. She lies back on the bed and takes the Rubik's cube out of her backpack. She wonders if she could solve it without even looking at it.

Matt's in the shower. The sound of the water matches the sound of the rain outside. It's been raining a lot recently, and she had overheard people in the street talking about floods. The walls are damp, and there are spiders lurking in every corner and crack. There are lots of cracks. The heater works, but it works far too well. It's almost feverish in this room. Her skin is boiling but her bones are cold.

She looks down and finds the Rubik's cube solved.

"You brought a toy," Matt says. She turns to face him. He's pulling new clothes on and flicking water from his hair. He's glaring at the cube. "I told you, don't bring anything we won't need, but you just had to bring a toy, didn't you? God, Near, you can't do anything right."

She goes to grab her backpack in case he goes through it and finds that she's brought nothing but toys, but he yanks it away from her before she gets the chance.

"It's full of toys, isn't it?" he spits, his face twisting up in rage. He rips the bag open and tosses each toy out. Near winces as she hears each one hit the ground. There are some in there that she won't be able to put back together as easily as she fixed the Rubik's cube. She doesn't like it when things break.

"Jesus Christ, Near," he hisses. "Are you – you're just fucking with me, aren't you? You've hidden another bag with stuff that will actually be useful, not just toys. Not just toys. Tell me you didn't just bring toys. Tell me you're playing some kind of fucking stupid prank on me."

Near twists a strand of hair around her finger. "I'm not playing a prank on you. I really did just bring toys."

The mattress sinks slightly with added weight, and suddenly Matt looms over her. She's about to say something; then he swings a fist into her eye and talking doesn't really seem like a good idea because it might just make him hit her again. He hits her again anyway, this time over her heart.

"Ow," she says emotionlessly.

He grabs her hair then, pushing her up against the wall, and then he punches her again. It's getting quite boring now. It hurts quite a lot. She doesn't want to satisfy him by expressing that, so she just goes limp and doll-like. He punches her twice more, then tosses her onto the floor like he had done with the toys. She lands on her arm.

The floor is cold and hard and there's a sickening noise when her head makes contact with the wood. She lies there. Motionless. Matt doesn't say anything. She thinks she might be broken. The Rubik's cube had been knocked off the bed, and it had landed next to her; she picks it up and straightens up the edges. "I think I might be concussed," she says quietly. "And I think my arm is broken."

"Oh." Matt's voice is trembling.

"If I get medical attention soon, my arm should fully recover within six weeks."

"I – we don't have six weeks. And we're on the run, you – you can't get medical attention."

Near stares up at the ceiling, which is starting to darken at the edges. "It's lucky that I'm ambidextrous. I think I might lose consciousness. Can you tell me about the plan?"

"We're going to go to the scene of the murder. There should be some kind of clue there."

She nods. "I didn't realise there had been a murder."

"There has been. It's got to be the same guy. They were all cut up the way the ones he killed years back were."

"Okay." She blinks. Her eyelids feel strangely heavy. The world is moving in ways it isn't supposed to. "I don't think I can move. I'm tired. Can you put me in the bed, please?"

He picks her up easily and cradles her like she's a child. She guesses she is, but she's only one year younger than him, only one year more of a child. They're two children running away from home and into the arms of a serial killer, and they're probably going to die, because they're just children. Then he places her gently on the bed. She half expects him to start punching her again. Instead he pulls the cover over her and sits there, stroking her hair, until she loses consciousness.

November 25th

In the three days since finding out L is still alive, Light has managed to thoroughly convince himself that L is dead. He'd barely slept that day (or any day recently) and so it was probably just a hallucination from sleep deprivation. L had become such a constant that his brain had to summon him up so it could feel like things were normal. He was going mad.

He concluded that it was a mix of all those things and tried not to think about the whole situation again, but right now he has to think about it, because L is crouching on his bed. L is crouching on his bed with his thumb in his mouth and a vacant expression on his face, and L is dead. L is dead and buried and L is definitely not alive.

"Hello, Light," says the dead man, "I thought you would get a bit lonely without me, so I decided to visit you. Why do you look so shocked?"

"I visited your grave earlier."

"Was it fun?"

"You were there."

"I don't remember that." L looks at him curiously, and it makes Light feel sick.

"Of course you don't, because you're dead. Your dead body was there. Under the ground."

"Oh, was it?" L doesn't seem interested in getting an answer. He asks the question quite cheerfully, as if Light is simply commenting on the weather.

Light sits at his desk and leans back. "It was. You're nothing more than a hallucination. Now, I need to work, so could you stop being hallucinated? I need to focus on this, and pretending you're here probably uses up a lot of brain power."

"I would, but I'm not a hallucination. Would you like me to help you with that?"

Nothing makes sense any more. Light is quite sure he's sane, and sane people aren't supposed to hallucinate their rivals offering to help them. However, it makes much less sense if it's real. Firstly L is dead, and secondly L wouldn't be offering to help him study unless he was trying to manipulate him into revealing something about Kira. L can't really help in the Kira investigation if everyone thinks he's dead. "Why are you offering to help me?" he growls.

"Because we're friends, of course."

"Oh, yeah. Of course." Light nods absentmindedly. L needs to leave soon. Light needs to start working on the database of Kira victims or it might look like the task force is doing nothing, and wouldn't it be suspicious if the task force comes to a standstill as soon as Light takes over? He can use the fact he's not on the same genius level as L as an excuse, but it'll still be blatantly obvious that they aren't making progress. At least that way they feel like they're making progress, and that should be enough for a while.

L's arms are suddenly around him, and Light's tempted to push him away, though it's kinda comfortable. His chin rests on the top of Light's head. Light doesn't really mind, he's just a little confused. "Why are you doing that?"

"We're friends and I like touching you."

"Okay." Light rolls his eyes. He never expected L to be good at friendship, but he didn't quite expect his social skills to be this bad. "Just a quick tip, usually you should ask people before touching them."

"Thank you for the tip, Light-kun."

"Also, could you be a bit quieter? I don't want my parents to hear you. They might figure out you're alive."

"Sure."

It's hard to work with L there, silently nuzzling against his neck, but Light does it anyway. Maybe if he doesn't think about the hallucination for a few hours, it will leave him alone and he can be secure in his sanity again.

When he's far too tired to type in any more names, L is still there. Light's heart sinks. He should have disappeared by now if he isn't real, surely? Light turns to face him. "Um," he says, his throat strangely dry, "you need to go. I'm going to bed, and it'd be a bit weird for you to watch me sleep."

"Why would I watch you sleep?" L tilts his head and sticks his thumb in his mouth.

"I don't know, but you shouldn't."

"Okay. Your family is asleep, so I can leave through the front door."

"Well, bye."

"Goodbye, Light Yagami," L says with something that could nearly be a smile. "Have a nice night. You're going to dream about me."

Before Light can ask him what the fuck he meant by that last sentence, he's out the door. The worst thing is that he does dream about him.

December 26th

"Excuse me, sir?" Matt asks, having taken out his cigarette for the occasion, "do you know where Airlie Lane is?"

The man looks at them like he's surprised two kids are trying to find a murder scene. "It en't somewhere kids should be goin', yer know? Yer should be gettin' safe. There's a murderer 'round who's gone right off 'is head, and yer don't wanna get in 'is way."

"Actually," Near pipes up, "we're looking for our parents. They said they were going to Airlie Lane to visit our grandma. She lives down there and they're worried about her." She smiles at him, trying to look cute. Maybe he'll take pity on them if he thinks they're going to be safe. They're not going to be safe as long as B is alive, but that's not something you tell strangers.

He gives them directions to the murder scene, all the while informing them on 'stranger danger' despite being a stranger himself.

"It's weird that it's so close to Wammy's," Matt mutters to Near once they're in such a loud crowd that nobody will hear them.

She doesn't really think it's weird. She nods anyway. "He must be trying to send us a message."

"What makes you think the message is for us?"

"Because L's dead."

Matt's shoulder's sag. "Yeah."

"And also because we're probably the only ones smart enough to understand what he's saying."

He seems a little happier after that.

December 11th

Her name is Alyssa Reynolds. She has short black hair, ghostly pale skin, a gaunt frame, dark eyes. She is going to die in the next few hours. It will be easy for Beyond to become her.

She's just come from a flight from Heathrow. He follows her from the airport to a small apartment, staying in the shadows. It's small and sparsely furnished; she won't be living here long. She won't be living long either.

"When are you going back to England?" he asks her casually, when she's curled up on the sofa with a mug of coffee.

At first, Alyssa's shocked, all wide eyes and fists and trembling, but she quickly calms herself down, though he can see her eyes flicking to possible escape routes. "Two days – how did you get into my house?" She sounds more annoyed than scared.

Two days. Two days is fine. It won't take him two days to find her passport and make a plan. Nobody will notice if she's missing for two days. He flashes her a grin that he thinks is charming. She probably thinks it's terrifying, which is probably why she starts running.

He catches her before she can get anywhere. "It's okay, I won't hurt you, I just want to ask you something. Just calm down and don't scream," he says. Her eyes widen for a split second, and then he digs his fingers in and she doesn't actually have eyes any more.

It's then that she starts screaming.

"It was worth a try," he says, then snaps her neck.