Author's Note: I want to apologize for my little freak out last chapter. I have made revisions to chapter six, and my mind is much quieter now. You are all great sports for dealing with me, and I want you to know that it is much appreciated. I come bearing a short chapter this time, and depending on which direction I take, we might be getting close to the end. I have two separate plans on just how far to take this, one of them inspired by my reader Toph13139, and I haven't yet decided which one to go with yet. Thank you for reading, reviewing, and listening to my ramblings.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.
A cold sweat began to form on Roger's brow the minute he closed the door behind him. He had told B that the empty room near the library was where he would be staying while they cleaned up the damage from the fire, but that was only half true.
Roger was struggling under the weight of his dilemma. There was now no doubt that something was seriously wrong, but he didn't want to admit it. He needed time to think. What were the options?
To send B away meant jeopardizing L. The teen knew way too much about the detective, and he was trapped in the same way that Roger was. On the other hand, he couldn't stay at Wammy's House. Not if he was going to break ankles and start fires. Maybe they could bring someone in? A psychiatrist or a counselor. But that would just open a whole other can of worms…
Roger turned the lock on the outside of the bedroom door and felt all the peace of mind he had gathered over the past few years disappear with a hollow click.
This was only until he could figure out what to do…
B must have heard the lock, because seconds later he called to Roger from within the room.
"Roger?" B asked in the same eerily calm tone of voice he had used when first learning of L. "Why did you just lock my door?"
Roger's breath caught in his throat as he frantically searched for an answer.
"I-I'm just taking precautions."
"Precautions? Against me?"
"Starting a fire is not normal, B. We can't take any chances."
Roger heard a laugh from behind the door. There was nothing abnormal or sinister about it. It just sounded like the occupant had remembered a funny joke.
"Everyone does strange things from time to time in the interest of catharsis, Roger. I just needed to vent some frustration. It won't happen again. I promise."
Roger wanted to believe that. He wanted to take those words as a binding contract, let B out, and crawl back into his belief that everything was okay.
"I'm sorry, B, but this is my only option right now."
"Your only option?"
B's voice went silent just long enough to make Roger wonder if the question was rhetorical, but then he began to speak again using a familiar tone that Roger knew was not his own.
"Judging from your past behavior, Roger, the chances of you making this kind of decision are less than twenty percent. I'd say you're acting in the interest of someone else."
The similarity to L was genuinely frightening, as was the fact that this false tone was the one he had formed a friendship with.
"L told you to do this, didn't he?" B asked, his voice slipping back into his own.
"I am doing what is best for the orphanage as a whole."
"He thinks I'm dangerous. What happened to my potential, Roger? I thought I was going to become him?"
The mocking, childish pout B spoke with gave Roger the chills.
"That's what we all thought."
"I'm more than L, you know…" B stifled a giggle. "I'm more than me, more than L, yet still half a man. I've found myself, Roger. I've lost myself."
Were those the words of a philosopher or a madman? What had B been hiding under his façade for so many years?
"B, I'm walking away now."
"Don't do that."
Roger took a step and put his hands in his pockets to avoid their trembling.
"Don't leave, Roger!"
Another couple of steps.
"You can't do this to me! You know this is wrong! Let me out!"
Roger was now a few feet down the hallway.
"Think for yourself," B said, keeping the volume of his voice high, but switching into his L voice. "Committing an injustice to follow orders is sheer idiocy. Especially if you hurt a friend in the process."
Halfway down the hallway.
B's voice was now no longer distinguishable as words, just desperate, angry sounds.
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Beyond Birthday turned to the only object in the room, a narrow bookcase filled with dictionaries, encyclopedias, and other large, boring reference books, and kicked it over.
He was still screaming even though he was certain Roger was gone. The fractured words and noises blasting from his throat expressed everything that he was, everything he used to be, and everything he would become.
In the strangled sobs of fear and abandonment there was the little boy carrying on in the back seat of a car and mourning for the blood-drenched corpse of the closest thing he had come to a friend.
In the harsh, desolate whispers of madness there was the boy tortured by vivid, airborne obituaries.
In the feral howls and shrieks there was the broken, scalding teenager, who no longer knew who or what he was.
And finally, in the silence there was Beyond Birthday.
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That bastard. All of them bastards.
Especially L.
Beyond knew how L thought, and he knew the conclusion he must have come to.
Beyond was only worth something when he was a casually-dressed, cake-eating mime.
The only person L could appreciate was himself.
Beyond didn't like that part of L. That part he would throw out. Only the best pieces to supplement himself.
Whoever that was.
L's betrayal felt like a cancer. A part of Beyond had turned on itself.
A was right to be afraid. It probably wouldn't stop until he was dead.
L was going to try to dispose of him.
That was the only logical thing to do.
Beyond couldn't let that happen, though.
L had to know that Beyond was more valuable than he was.
He had to see that the combination of L and B held more power.
No, no, no. L shouldn't come first in that statement.
L should come after B.
Maybe not even B, because B alone was not enough either.
Beyond Birthday.
L should come after Beyond Birthday.
But that couldn't happen if Beyond was dead.
He had to escape.
It wouldn't be that hard. The room had a window after all.
Stupid Roger.
Even without the threat of death, it was time for Beyond to leave Wammy's House. The memories it held weren't much to mourn anyway. This had been B's home, and then L's home, but he was no longer either of those people.
It was time to find somewhere for Beyond Birthday to lay his head.
Author's Note: No, I don't think L was really planning on killing B. B's just being a bit paranoid. Roger lucked out though, huh? He didn't even need to make a decision. New chapter soon. My thanks to all my readers. Please leave a review if you have comments, questions, or suggestions.