Point of Succession Chapter 10, a death note fanfic

A/N: Yes, I we all are aware that Light is a brilliant bastard. It's good to see everyone's on the same page. ;)

As for Mr. Parenthesizes: HOW DARE YOU ROLL YOUR EYES AT THE GOD OF THE NEW WORLD! IT'S A GOOD THING YOU'RE ANONYMOUS! …JKJK XD

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note and thus am not making any money off of this.

Chapter 10

Beyond deposited Mello onto the marble floor of the hotel lobby, swiftly untying the silk blindfold he had placed around the teenagers eyes an hour earlier. Mello himself was unsure of the size of the hotel B had holed them up in, the thin man having placed the blindfold over his head the moment they exited the ballroom. Beyond had then proceeded to carry the blonde bridal style through several halls and staircases for the better part of an hour. Thus, the leather clad youth found himself disoriented as the glinting, crystal chandeliers beckoned brightly towards him from the ceiling of the lobby, legs sore and protesting any and all movements Mello tried to make.

Blinking the haze away, Mello's eyes readjusted to themselves to the light before he carefully sat up, wincing at the tight pain just behind his kneecaps from where B's skeletal arm had been digging into his legs. Glancing around from his spot on the floor, Mello couldn't help but notice the wary glances the hotel lobby's population was sending their way, or more specifically, B's way. There were no other guests around that Mello could detect, only hotel staff. It seemed as if the hotel had been placed in a veritable lock down, compliments of Beyond Birthday no doubt.

A red, latex jacket was thrust into Mello's hands, while Beyond began wrapping a black, lace shawl around his shoulders and adjusting the red veil atop his head to hide his more distinguishing features, mainly his entire face. Mello scowled but put the vibrant, trench coat on, it's white, fluff trimmed hood tickling the back of his neck. A pair of sunglasses was handed off to Mello by one of the hotel butlers, the man visibly sweating over being in the presence of Beyond Birthday. Apparently the staff knew who Beyond was, and more importantly, they knew what the man was capable of.

"I don't even know where to start with these kinks of yours," Mello deadpanned, ignoring the affect B's presence had on everyone else for the moment.

"The best disguises are often the most outrageous." B paused, finger nail falling between red, painted lips. "Unless you're a ninja."

Another staff member came running towards them though a pair of service doors behind the reception counter. Fear was evident in the young consighers eyes, in fact, the woman was sweating goddamn bricks. Over her shoulder she was lugging a large, red suitcase, the kind musicians used to carry guitars and stage equipment. Mello doubted whether there was an actual guitar in the case, but he didn't question the luggage.

"Ah!' B clapped his hands delightedly, eyes wide and shinning as he took the case from the woman. "Thank you Lulu-Chan! Couldn't do anything without you!" He smiled widely and pinched the woman's cheek the way one would a two year old. The action sent a sob of tears leaking, unrefined, from the corner of the girl's eyes.

Stomach twisting, though he made no outward show of his discomfort, Mello reached over grabbed Beyond's hand away from the woman's face, dismissing the girl with a hasty nod. She didn't need to be told twice and turned on her heel, literally sprinting from the room. They were left alone in the hotel lobby after that, aside from one rather anxious looking doorman who was holding the front entrance to the establishment open, tremors visibly racking his body. The man's entire demeanor seemed to be yelling at Mello and B to hurry the hell up and leave. One glance around the deserted lobby and Mello was pretty confident the entire hotel staff was sharing the doorman's sentiment.

Mello's brows furrowed. What exactly had Beyond done to these people?

The murderer in question slung the guitar case over his shoulder and practically skipped towards the doorman. "Doesn't he just look so frightened?" B preened, casting a coy smile over his shoulder at Mello.

The blonde snorted, but looked over the doorman. He didn't know whether to reassure the man or tell him to run. There were no physical signs of abuse Mello could discern about the man's body, leaving the teen to assume that it was a hostage situation, but so far B had not seemed to have conducted any bodily harm on the hotel staff. The inflicted mental damage on the other hand, that was altogether something else.

"I made an example of their manager when they refused to give me what I required," B said honestly, wide eyes unblinking as he stared at the doorman like a demented toddler. "They listen to me now."

Dead guy in the manager's office, Mello nodded bleakly; therem at least, was his answer.

"Plus, there's about eight tons of cyclotrimethylene trinitramine spread throughout the premises, and I doubt any of these idiots are up to that particular treasure hunt."

The abrupt proclamation caused Mello's head to screech to a halt. "You loaded the hotel with eight tons of C4?"

The murderer's nose scrunched up, making his face twist unattractively, and B pushed through the door. "Of course not Little Dear, plasticizer and polyisobutylene smell bad."

Mello gaped openly as he followed the serial killer onto the streets. He didn't have the time to contemplate the hotel situation in depth though. B was letting him out on the streets, meaning he was giving Mello their exact location. Why Beyond would do that when he clearly wanted to keep the hotel layout a secret was beyond the blonde's mental capacities, at least for the moment. Perhaps B just didn't want Mello to play the hero and attempt to save the hotel staff.

Mello snorted disdainfully. No danger of that happening here, he thought bitterly. If there was one lesson Wammy's House didn't have room for in its vast curriculum, it was delusions of grandeur. Morality and heroics took the back burner when it came to lessons in reality. Logic and deduction were the main course, everything else cast off as a hindrance. And if B had anything to say about it, the hotel was going to go up in flames sometime in the near future, and there was little Mello would be able to do in order to stop it.

The blonde kicked a pebble on the sidewalk and glanced around. London, he'd been in the city enough times to recognize the street Beyond was currently traipsing about as Portland Place. Skipping several feet ahead of Mello, B seemed completely unconcerned with whether or not the boy was following him. Mello had to strain his neck at times to keep the eccentric red veil in his line of sight.

Glancing up Mello finally caught sight of the impressive stone structure Beyond had commandeered. The Langham, Europe's first grand hotel, extended nearly ten stories into the clouded English sky. Golden bricks and polished, grey shingles contrasted elegantly against each other as Mello's gape fell back, neatly, across his features. The building seemed to glow brightly, even though it's doors were locked, windows draw shut, and a darkness seemed the seep through the historic foundation's cracks, The Langham Hotel was still a character of elegance dotting the streets of London. And Beyond Birthday had it resting quaintly in the palm of his hand.

A jerk to his hood had Mello stumbling backwards, falling into a pair of thin, muscular arms. "They're remodeling a few of the suites," B said in answer to the unspoken inquiry. "Hence, closed for remodeling. Now stop dilly dallying Little Dear. There is work to be done!"

"Whatever you say Uzhas," Mello muttered, trudging obediently behind his captor. Already plans for escape were running rampant through Mello's mind now that the two of them had left the hotel.

He'd already been out maneuvered by Beyond physically, the man had a strength that betrayed his thin frame of a body. So there was little chance Mello would be able to overthrow B in any sort of physical confrontation. The knowledge did little for Mello's pride. He'd always been one of the strongest at Wammy's, both in mental fortitude and physical prowess. He'd been every bit the bully on the playground in his primary days, and even the elder kids had given him a wide birth as he walked down the halls. It wouldn't be so easy to intimidate an entity like Beyond Birthday though. The man was a monster unto himself.

Not that Mello was putting much stock in any plan to begin with, he'd had absolutely no idea what he'd been doing back in the ballroom when he'd given his little tease show, and Beyond had proved that quite effectively. But it gave him a starting point. The only way he could defeat Beyond was through his mind. He had to battle against the man mentally. Only after that, would their location come into play.

The red, veiled murderer stopped before a glowing shop, glancing up at the sign in indecipherable thought, and then he disappeared through the door. Following B inside, Mello was taken aback as a wave of pure sugar hit him across the face. It was a sweet shop. Jars, bags, and boxes filled with colorfully wrapped candies, preserves, and other gooey confections, lined each of the shop's walls while displays of artistically carved chocolate and candy dipped suckers decorated the tables. A kindly, older woman, looking to be in her mid-fifties, stood welcomingly behind a series of glass counters, each encasing an assortment of chocolate truffles. Mello had to gulp back the drool as he spied the tender morsels. There was only one other person in the shop aside from himself and B. But Beyond wasn't browsing the shelves like the other patron; instead he stood sullenly in front of the shop window, taxi cabs and pedestrians running through his gaze, unaware of his stalking presence.

"People think they're so normal, when really, they're more delusional than we are." The words were soft, audible only to Mello who had come to stand directly beside the male Lolita.

The blonde raised an eyebrow and looked through the glass at the city street. "How are we delusional?" He had long ago cast aside the rest of the world population as being madder than The Hatter at the world's most lavish tea party, but everyone else, those who possessed the gift of a brilliant mind; Mello wasn't so quick to claim their insanity. Save for Beyond of course.

Beyond spoke over the pad of his thumb. "We are taught to think we can save the world because we are better than everyone else."

It was a simple enough response, but Mello sensed there was more to its foundation. "We are better," he stated uncompromisingly. "Our intelligence makes it so."

"Does it really?"

Devil's advocate. Mello glowered, the bastard was testing him.

He could sense the ruby gaze on the side of his head, but he remained silent. The conversation was unanticipated. If B had wanted to throw Mello for a loop he had succeeded because now the blonde didn't know what the hell to think. Here he was, standing at the window of a candy shop, talking philosophically about people. Mello was pretty damn sure Beyond didn't like people. So what was the point? Was Mello supposed to be questioning his own beliefs now, his faith in the human race, which didn't amount to more than an iota to begin with? Or was he supposed to defend his methodology?

"We, people like us," a latex clad arm extended outwards in an encompassing gesture, "we have the ability to process information the average individual doesn't even comprehend."

"And because of that ability we have the duty to ensure justice for the average masses because they themselves cannot comprehend it," Beyond finished neatly. "I went to Wammy's House too Little Dear." He smirked darkly at Mello.

"You don't agree," Mello shot back.

Beyond shrugged. "It's true. As I said, all of humanity is more delusional than we are. Best leave them to that happy bit of normalcy. My point is about those who hold only a handful of fantasies."

"Wammy's House," Mello supplied automatically.

B nodded and turned away from the window, dismissing the lives of everyone he thought beneath him. "They may not be as delusional, but the few delusions they maintain make them more dangerous in the long run."

"So what delusions do I posses?" Mello baited the murderer without thought, the challenging comment slipping from his mouth the way a lathered bar of soap slipped through wet hands. He'd need to work on containing himself if he truly valued his life. The look Beyond sent Mello seemed to say as much.

"You think it'd be great to be number one." B bent over the glass cabinets, carefully staring down the gourmet chocolates contained within. His finger pads splayed across the glass, like two spiders stretching their legs. Beyond looked as if he wanted nothing more than to fall through the crystal barrier, becoming one with the chocolate. "It's honestly not all it's chalked up to be. Hmmm… Darling would like the hazel nutty ones," he said idly.

Moving away from Beyond, Mello's eyes razed through the selection of chocolate bars lining one of the numerous shelves that comprised the shop. "It's not like you would know from experience." It had been nearly a week since he'd last seen a chocolate bar. B hadn't exactly been stocked with candy, or any type of sustenance for that matter. The scent of the delicious substance had been distracting him since he'd stepped through the shop door. Now he was met with an endless array of chocolate bars and there was little he could do against their magnetic pull. His hand moved on autopilot, grabbing a stack of six plain chocolate bars, the other picked up five with almonds. Beyond would be buying him chocolate, Mello decided right then, kidnapping murderer or not.

B's eyes widened as Mello dumped the goods on the counter adjacent to the register but didn't say anything otherwise. "I'd like eight of the hazelnut truffles and ten jars of strawberry jam sent over to the Langham Hotel."

The elderly woman behind the counter smiled, as if there was nothing strange about the order at all. "Still staying at the Langham Blush? Even during construction? You must be a great customer."

Mello raised a brow, apparently Beyond came here often. The woman had to be blind however to not see the monstrosity hidden behind the red mesh. Another individual with their eyes shut tight. Mello was starting to see what Beyond meant when he said the world was deluded. They were blind to the horror of the reality screaming in their face. Mello settled himself closely aside B, the need to yank that ridiculous, red veil out of Beyond's hair stronger than ever. It'd do well for the woman to see the type of people buying her jam.

B seemed to hear Mello's thoughts as if they'd been spoken aloud. A wry grin was sent in the blonde's direction as B picked up the tab. "Have the chocolate bars sent over too, my ward's been behaving himself wonderfully this past week!"

"Yes, you sounded so happy to have him coming over." The woman smiled kindly at Mello.

A charming grin flitted into Mello's eyes, but before he could say anything incriminating, Beyond had Mello's arm in a bruising grip, yanking him towards the door. "See you next week Mrs. Chocolate!" he called over his shoulder, menacing giggles following him out the door.

It took them half an hour to reach the circular rode that comprised Park Crescent, though they didn't enter the park itself. Instead, Mello found himself sitting on the roof of the Central London County Courthouse, a white, marble structure across the street of the circular park. The vantage point allowed him to peer into a small playground just on the interior of the park's green lawn. A multitude of rainbow colored kids were at play within the confines of the park, jumping and shrieking in joy at the illusion of freedom their parents had granted them. That freedom would no doubt come to a close upon the hours end.

Beyond was currently treating the building's ledge as a balance beam and, had the man not handcuffed Mello to a stair rail, the blonde would have had no issues with pushing B over the edge. Not that it'd be enough to kill the ghost like apparition that was Beyond Birthday. The man was otherworldly in every way possible. But it would've made Mello feel better inside.

Beyond spun on the heel of his steel, toed combat boot and fixed Mello with a challenging stare. "Pick a child." The grinning maniac hopped from the ledge and unzipped the guitar case he'd been carrying with him the entire time. From within he produced a pair of binoculars and set them in Mello's hands, then pointed over to the playground.

Mello stared dumbly at the binoculars and then glanced at B uncertainly. Had he heard the man right?

"Pick a child," B reiterated, "from the play ground."

The binoculars were raised to Mello's eye's and he looked through, zooming in on the toddlers running heedlessly across a jungle gym of brightly colored, rusting metal. Mello's eyes widened a fraction as a thousand reasons for Beyond's request filtered through his mind, each more odious than the last. A chilling glare was turned on Beyond. "Absolutely not you perverted pedophile!"

B sighed. He'd been expecting the reaction given people's tendencies to jump to the wrong conclusions when it came to him. But this was something he needed Mello to do, so he decided for some patience. "What do you see Little Dear?" he asked, doing his best placate the hormonal teenager.

Mello would have none of it. "No!" The binoculars were chunked at B's veiled head. "I refuse to sit back and watch you murder some innocent child Beyond!"

B recoiled, the action as much a charade as his attire was. "Who said anything about killing a child?"

The blonde sneered. "You're a murderer B, why else would you be checking out kids?"

"Please don't call me B while we're in public," B said absently, looking through the binoculars and across the street. "It's Blushing Bride. Oh there! A perfect specimen!" Beyond held the lenses in front of Mello's face. "Look." Stubbornness was what Beyond found himself facing however as his hostage snapped his eyes shut tight. B's face twisted in annoyance and he aimed a firm kick at Mello's shin. "If you don't look through the binoculars I just may shoot down a happy family."

Mello's eyes shot open, intense green honing in on Beyond. "How are you going to shoot - " He paused, floored by the open guitar case laying heedlessly beside Beyond's feet.

There was no guitar inside. In place of a stringed instrument stood a matte black, RPA Rangemaster .50. Rapidly, Mello's mind conjured up everything he'd learned about the Tactical Rifle from his ballistics education course. The firearm was roughly 40 pounds, and rarely would such a weapon be found in the States. The gun hailed from a U.K. based weapons manufacturer. Despite the patriotism of having three of the weapons, none of the kids at Wammy's had been able to life the thing, let along shoot it. Beyond on the other hand handled the rifle like a champion sharp shooter. With calculated ease B set the five feet long gun atop a stand, the end of the barrel, covered by a suppressor, just barely protruding from the ledge of the building. The murderer loaded the weapon with a seamless 'chick' that sent a sickening crunch through Mello's stomach. It was bad enough to bear witness to Beyond in a corset dress and hear the man refer to himself as Blushing Bride. It was another thing entirely to watch the heinous man operate a tactical assault rifle while wearing the same outfit.

"I thought you weren't killing anybody," Mello breathed. His mouth had suddenly gone very dry.

"I'm not, you are," came the matter of fact response. The red veil flipped over Beyond's shoulder as a ruby eye winked into the scope. "Oh good, I can see the child better through this."

B stood and smiled at Mello, the expression a caricature of kindness. Taking the hint, Mello kneeled to the ground and positioned himself to look down the scope of the gun. A boy, seemingly about three years of age, was serenely playing in the grass, a multitude of die cast cars and trucks scattered around him. Sitting directly behind the small boy was a man, mid forties, with graying hair. The man wore a pair of neatly pressed jeans and a crisp, tan, dress shirt. Mello grit his teeth at the sight of the man, something about the entire picture seemed decidedly… off.

"What can you deduce about that child?" Beyond's breath brushed softly against Mello's ear lobe, causing the younger male to start in surprise. He hadn't felt Beyond invade his personal space, and part of him wondered when B had in fact managed to move so close. The other half of his mind was intently focused on the child sitting at the other end of the sniper rifle's scope.

"He's nervous."

The ruffle of Beyond's black hair against his cheek notified Mello that B was nodding. "Continue," the murderer purred.

"If he were relaxed he'd be playing with his toys, but he's not. I've seen infants at Wammy's act the same way, when elder kids picked on them," when I picked on them. "They'd just sit there dejectedly. He's been crying too," Mello inferred from the tear streaks patterned across the boy's pudgy cheeks.

Mello blinked before bringing his eye back to the gun's scope. There wasn't anything else he could gather from the child's appearance. It was the man sitting with the child that troubled Mello the most. His clothing was nice, expensive looking, too expensive for a parent who'd take their kid to the park. While all the other adults were adorned in jeans, weatchirts, and work out wear, the man sitting with the little boy stood out, to Mello at least. The clothes were crisp, well cared for, not at all the clothes of an individual who had a three year old child, unless there was a nanny. But if the kid had a nanny, why would his father go to the park with him in the middle of a work week? It didn't fit. The boy kept glancing over at the man, casting the childlike equivalent of a furtive glance at the man behind him. It was the intuition of a child that spoke of unfamiliarity, but didn't quite understand what was wrong with the situation. Mello, however, did. The boy didn't know that man.

"Who is that man?" Mello asked, no ounce of emotion present in his voice.

Beyond giggled in anticipation. "Name's don't really matter; all you need to know is what's in front of you."

Green eyes narrowed into the scope. "Damnit Uzhas! Who the fuck is that man and what the fuck is he doing to that little boy!"

The giggling continued, pouring right into Mello's ear like a burning syrup. "I think you know," B sang out jovially.

Mello's eyes narrowed further, because he did know. The man didn't know the kid, yet there he was playing with the boy's toys, whispering small nothings into the child's ear. And the boy, he didn't like it. The tears, the wide, roaming eyes each said as much. The boy was just waiting for someone to notice him, to notice something was wrong. But as always, the people were blind, blissfully unaware of the devil in their playground.

And Mello was sitting across the street with a gun pointed straight at the bastard's head, ready to take it off.

The teen blinked, inching slightly back from the rear grip of the gun.

"Tut tut," B hissed. "You're really going to do nothing?"

Mello closed his eyes, but nothing was said. He didn't trust himself in that moment. He didn't trust the hatred that had sparked to life in the coils of his intestinal system, burning up the length of his body and charring his throat.

"The child is being rapped," Beyond murmured seductively, lips grazing the lobe of Mello's ear. "Manipulated by something so much bigger than him. Are you going to allow it Little Dear?"

"I know what you want me to do and I won't" Mello grit, teeth painfully clenched in an attempt to keep the bile down.

"Won't you?"

Oh that voice was scintillating. It made things sound so easy, so apparent. Beyond made things look like they were black and white, and if not for the areas drenched in human blood Mello might have given in to him. "It's not my place to decide the fate of that man or that child, not like this. Not with a bullet to the head."

"The child doesn't deserve this Little Dear." The force of B's words sent a tremble of surprise down Mello's spine. He'd never expected to hear that tone of voice from B, at least not when applied to a common pedophile. It was almost…vengeful. "He's leaving with the child Little Dear…"

Mello focused back on the toddler. The man now had his hands wrapped around the kid's waste, clutching the boy to his chest possessively.

"You are here now Mello. You have the means. Down there, there is a man defiling a child, preying on innocence. That man is stealing a childhood. A child should be a child Mello, even if you didn't get to be." Beyond stood then, Mello could hear the heavy footfalls of B's boots against the cement of the roof and down the emergency stair way.

There was more to Beyond's statement then Mello wanted to contemplate at the moment. Some hidden meaning had been twisted about his captor's words and Mello was doing his damn hardest not to hear what had really been said to him. This was the game. Everything Beyond said was a part of the cardboard set up he had back in the ballroom. All the chess, checkers, clue, and candy land pieces, it all fell together messily into a game Mello was only starting to understand. The boy however, he had nothing to do with it.

Looking back through the targeting lens mounted atop the gun, Mello released a shaky breath. The man had the child strapped into a car already. Hundreds of people were passing him as he walked around the vehicle to the driver's side door and no one stopped him. He was going to get away. Unless…

Mello's arm extended, fingers wrapping delicately over the trigger. His other arm steadied the firearm, clutching it between his hands, stilling the quivering movements that had pervaded the leaded weapon previously. Mello licked his lips, the faint taste of chocolate tingling against the buds on his tongue.

Air flowed deeply into Mello's lungs. He closed his eyes for the briefest second and then snapped them open, immediately focusing the rifle's attention to the kidnapping bastard.

For the first time that week Mello's head was clear, and he took the shot.

"Talk to me Sweetie Jam…" The name came tauntingly off the murderer's lips. "I know this is what you crave. Titillating no?"

The darkness was encompassing as Light scuttled back, praying he'd be able to keep moving backwards, that he wouldn't hit a wall. Distance, he needed distance….

"Are you running away from me Sweetie Jam? That's not very nice."

The words came tauntingly at him from every angle, echoing around the blackout. No other noise pervaded the atmosphere save for Beyond Birthday's sing-song lilt and Light's own erratic breathing. He needed to get out. Keep moving backwards, he needed to get out. There was a door somewhere. He needed to get out.

Abruptly the blackness erupted in laughter as the unforgiving sound of a lock being turned shot straight through Light's heart. Fear overrode his system, coherent thought dashing from his mind with its tail between its legs. There was no more room to breathe, no more escape. His back hit the wall.

"Nonononononono… Move you idiot. Get out… GET OUT!"

The first step was the hardest, his sweat drenched body moving up the wall as heavy bricks of unadulterated panic took residence in the pit of his stomach. Slowly he began to inch himself along the wall. There was a window to his left he knew, only, he couldn't tell left from right at the moment. The adrenaline was drugging his system, demanding attention and punching rational thought square in the jaw. It was telling him to run.

But he'd already been running, running for so long. His legs were ready to give out, ready to deny him the flight instinct beseeched of him.

"MARCO!"

The shout came from everywhere at once, as if there were multiple Beyonds scattered throughout the cell, all yelling to him at once. Light bit his lip, he could feel the chapped fleshed trembling as the taste of blood seeped through his teeth, his lip splitting open with the force of the bite. Eyes shut tightly, though the room was so black it made little difference, he tried to block out the sound of Beyond. The scurrying as B's fingernails slid across the cement floor, the quiet chuckling, and that damned VOICE!

"!"

Light shook his head, willing himself to keep moving.

"Marco!"

Light's fingertips brushed against the cold, stone wall of the cubicle, his body shifting over while pleas of an escape route, anything, prevailed throughout his mind.

"Come on Sweetie Jam," Beyond's teasing torment persisted. "You know you want to play with me!"

'Shut UP!' Light thought violently, and then he felt the cool tickle against his cheek bones. There was a window, he could feel a slight draft running across his face, tendrils of the sweetest chill he'd ever felt. The glass panel was directly across from him, it just had to be.

"MARCOMARCOMARCOMARCO!"

Light's eyes snapped open.

Dim light emitted from the blinds of the window. He needed to make it. With a grim sense of determination Light steeled himself to propel off the wall and into the window. With luck it would shatter and he'd be free, away from Beyond.

He stuttered inches off the wall when a slim silloutett raised itself off the ground, out of the blackness, blockading the Light's final pane of salvation. The outline of spiked, tangled hair cocked itself to the side in a mannerism Light had become all too familiar with.

"That's not how you play the game Sweetie Jam."

Light's mouth fell open and he prayed for something to come out. A scream, a grunt, anything that might signal some wayward outsider that he was about to die.

Nononononono… The mantra of desperation lashed through Light's mind as if there was little else it could process. Nonononono… This wasn't happening. He'd had everything under control. Where did it go so wrong?

As if the black form could sense his thoughts, it answered, the words blowing crystals of ice over every joint in Light's body. "It never went wrong, this is all according to plan."

No, Light told himself. No it wasn't. And if that wasn't a lie he didn't know what was. It was that sick, twisted part of him that needed the experience, craved it. The part of him that, for some stupid, fucking, idiotic reason, thought he could take the chase. How wrong he had been. Now, now he was going to die.

NO!

And Beyond stepped into the light, the window blinds drawing shadowy lines across his skeletal form. A grin was plastered across his face, eyes wide and burning in a lustful anticipation. The way he moved was too graceful to have been natural. It was demonic, predatory, and deliberately slow. Suddenly, Light was back against the wall, flesh up against it as if willing the molecules to absorb his being, save him from the murderous specter that wouldn't look away, wouldn't even blink.

"You can't run from me Sweetie Jam, you don't want to." And B smiled serenely, looking down on Light's rapidly crumpling form. The steady smack, smack of the stiletto heel the murderer held slapping against the center of Beyond's palm moved with the demented individuals tranquil steps.

Light knew Beyond, in cold, hard, facts he knew Beyond Birthday the way nobody else did, and that made the agonizing situation so much worse. He understood what B was capable of, what the man was going to do to him. And B kept moving towards him. 'God what was taking him so long,' Light's mind grated with a grimace. The interrogation cell wasn't even six feet wide, what the hall was taking him so long to reach him. Why was he drawing it out? Why couldn't he just get it fucking over with. Oh god…

And Light prayed. He prayed in a senseless thought of mumbling words, jumbled together into an incoherent wish to just survive this. A miracle, some spark of brilliance that would allow him to get out. He didn't even need to get out intact, he just wanted OUT!

"No no Sweetie Jam, you're lying to yourself. You want to stay here just as much as I do. Forever and ever, together together."

'GET OUT!' His brain screamed, egging on the primal flight instinct, trying in vain to kick start the motor that would revive Light's motor functions. But he wasn't breathing, he couldn't possibly, his mind was too occupied with the terror moving towards him like a gelatinous sludge. Beyond was right. He did want this. He didn't want to leave. And yet…

The satin heel was casually tossed through the air, intricate red beading flashing against the modicum of light permeating the room.

There really was nowhere for him to go. Nowhere to run, and the darkness didn't hide him. Not from Beyond, the very definition of Light's darkness. He didn't move as the minutes passed, as B finally came to crouch before him. The signature frog position, Beyond's toes brushed gently against Light's own bare feet and red irises overtook terrified amber.

'Fuck it all to hell.' Light thought, a strange sense of detachment falling across his body.

Light lunged.

Somehow Light's fist managed to pull itself back and land a hefty blow against Beyond's head. The murderer let out a strangled sound of surprise, though the punch was anything but strong. Light's arms were unsteady with trepidation, his adrenaline not strong enough to combat the raw emotion. But Light kept swinging, his body pummeling into Beyond's, the two of them falling to the floor in a tangles of limbs, sobs, and laughter. Beyond was laughing.

Light scratched, the tears flowing freely from his eyes, obscuring his already compromised vision. He scratched at the haunting face looming over his head, Beyond's eyes literally millimeters from his own nose. Light didn't stop clawing at the visage of the monster grappling against his body. Beyond was stronger than he looked, especially for a man who'd been lounging in solitary confinement for the better part of several years. There had been so many, so many murderers unaccounted for, so many people missing, all falling across the trail Beyond Birthday had left behind, and Light was rapidly about to become the next breadcrumb leading towards the witch's oven. Beyond's spindling hands wrapped, unforgiving, around Light's wrists, pulling the smaller male towards Beyond's face. B's maverick smile brushed tauntingly against Light's own lips, and all the smaller male could do to protest the action was dig his fingernails into the psychopath's cheeks.

It was unanticipated, the lip lock, unwelcome. It wasn't a kiss, but a dominating rebuttal against Light's struggle.

"Shh, shh Sweetie Jam, we wanted this, remember?" B whispered, his own teeth clashing painfully against Lights.

He was beyond thought at that point, excusing the pun. Everything he had worked for was unraveled into a tangled mess on the floor, B running blood covered fingertips across the yarn. Light was reeling, the blackness around him blurring, B's laughter augmenting in his ears and adding to the turmoil of the already discordant blood pumping through his veins. Beyond hauled Light's body off the floor by the wrists, the murderer refusing to slacken his grip as Light writhed against Beyond's chest. He could feel the bruises blossoming around his arms.B slammed Light's back against the wall, finally relinquishing his hold on Light's arms to dig his fingers into Light's hips. Light winced as Beyond's forehead fell atop his shoulder, the killer nuzzling into the junction, rancid breath ringing into Light's ear.

"You play so marvelously Sweetie Jam, divine. But I think recess is over now…"

Light gulped back the fear that lodged itself into his throat, eyes widening in terrified anticipation. And before Light could vocalize any one of the petrified thoughts raging through his mind, everything went black…

Light shot up, chest heaving in ragged breaths as oxygen flooded his lungs. It had been a dream, just a dream.

Mentally, Light cursed himself as he sat upright, letting the warm sheets pool around his waist. The thin silk clung to the contours of his bare chest, adhered by sweat while black, silk pants hung low on his hips, crumpled around his legs from the tossing and turning. His forehead fell into his hands and Light cursed again. It had been years since he'd last had a dream about Beyond.

"I have nightmare's too you know," the toneless voice interrupted Light's thoughts and once more he was jolted upwards in surprise.

"L!" Light hissed through gritted teeth, the detective's hunched form and ghostly pallor sitting on the side of his bed. He looked so much like Beyond at that moment Light was momentarily at a loss; the aftertaste of terror still polluting his mouth. L's uncanny presence did little to relieve the taste. If it hadn't been for the light coming from the bathroom Light would have mistaken the detective for Beyond. Funny… Light didn't remember leaving his bathroom light on.

"How long have you been here!" Light demanded, scandalized as the situation finally caught up to him. "Hell, how did you find me? No, how did you get in here?"

L's expression didn't change. "I'm a detective Mr. Yagami, it would be rather pitiable if I couldn't locate you within twenty four hours of our first meeting."

Ah, that was a jab at Light wasn't it?

The detective leaned forward, eyes roaming Light's body critically. The younger man shifted in discomfort, the blank gaze disorienting given its current trajectory across his exposed body.

"You've nice musculature," L commented offhandedly. "That of a tennis player's in fact, do you play?

Light sighed, he refused to answer that question. Unconsciously, he hiked the sheet around him in an attempt to form a makeshift barrier between himself and the individual his nightmare was based off of. "What are you doing here?" As he spoke he reached over to the other side of the bed, picking a shirt off the floor and pulling it over his head.

A lollipop seemed to materialize out of nowhere and found its way into L's mouth. "Is Light perhaps ashamed of something? In which case, I've been observing you for two hours and can assure you that you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Light blinked, slightly horrified. "You've been here for two HOURS!"

"I came to discuss the details of your earlier suggestion."

A pointed silence hung in the air between the two gifted minds, each appraising the other. Though there was nothing predatory in either of their gazes, a challenge was laid out on the table, sacrificial lamb ready for the slaughter. L rested his chin on his knees, lollipop stick protruding from his lips while a thin glaze of stickiness covered his small grin. The Yagami boy was cunning, in a rather deplorable way. Already L got the sense that Light Yagami enjoyed showing off, taunting the target of whatever ploy he was concocting. The detective would be the first to declare that particular similarity between the two of them, but it didn't mean he was incredibly fond of being on the receiving end of such tactics. Hence the late night visit. L'd never said he wasn't a vindictive fiend.

Light was the one to break the stare, fingertips meeting the bridge of his nose, a faint reproving glare transmitting towards L. "It's too early for this," was the weary response. Without warning Light moved off the bed, sheets falling gracefully onto the floor as he lithely moved towards the door. If L wanted to talk they'd do it with coffee, lots of coffee.

Light descended the spiral stair into the living room, the faint smell of cappuccino wafting into his nostrils, causing him to pause and stare. Watari was in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist while he bustled about a multitude of kitchen appliances Light was fairly certain had not been there yesterday. Shaking his head, strands of auburn hair fell across his eyes. It was way too early for this. L shuffled after him towards the marble island set in the center of the kitchen and craned his neck over Light's shoulder to better view Watari's preparations. The elderly gentleman was frying something, while an espresso machine whizzed steadily on the far side of the counter top. Flour and dough were rolled out on the rest of the marble counter, dough cut into neat little squares. Atop the stove was a large tub of bubbling oil, the grease fumes stinging Light's eyes sharply.

"I hope you don't mind terribly, Mr. Yagami." Wrinkled hands pinched two pieces of dough together and delicately dropped them into the scalding liquid. The sizzle of frying dough pervaded the air with an overwhelming perfume of sweetness. "L wished to talk to you as soon as possible, I figured I'd make you breakfast in apology for the early hour."

'Three in the morning is not an early hour,' Light thought dully, his mind not fully firing on all cylinders, the grogginess of oh-dark-thirty acting a sludge clogging his mind, 'it's a crime.' He said nothing though; sitting on one of the bar stools surrounding the kitchen island. A latte was set in front of him and immediately the steaming cup was brought to his lips, the caffeine jolting his synapses into play.

"So, what may I help you with L?" The words were muffled by the rim of the coffee cup.

"You wish to assist with the capture of Beyond Birthday," L said candidly, cutting right to the bone. A sheet of paper was set on the table, a series of words circled, lining the right edge of the document.

Setting the cup down, Light read through, immediately recognizing the paper as belonging to the case file he'd brought to L's hotel the other day. In fact, it had been less than twelve hours ago. A grumble came from Light's mouth but he said nothing else. L took it as a sign to continue.

"I must admit, you're creative, and bold. Not many would have the audacity to tamper with the evidence of a case I'm working on, especially when they're aware it's my case."

The stress on the last two words did not go unnoticed by Light, but he was too tired to care. Possessive, L was possessive of this particular case. It only strengthened the notion, in Light's mind, that L knew Beyond Birthday from before the Los Angeles Murder Case. The information was filed away, and Light turned to watch as an ungodly amount of powdered sugar was dropped atop the fried dough. The confection Watari had been cooking seemed more akin to a clogged artery than breakfast.

Watari placed a platter of beignets, where the ratio of fried dough to powdered sugar was abhorrent, atop the marble in front of Light and L. To the auburn haired man, the platter looked more like a miniature ski slope than actual, edible food.

L reached over and plucked the top pieces of dough from the plate, sugar falling off across the marble in clumps. "You printed that fourth sheet in a different ink, I trust that was done purposefully, in order to catch my attention. Not to mention, I found an entire page about a single carpet fiber to be rather farfetched for a British police force, forensics team to compile, unless they've recently made headway in hiring capable detectives. But the information was precisely what I, myself, deduced upon observing the fiber. However, I doubt any average individual would've been able to do the same."

Light raised his eyebrows at the blatant arrogance, a sense of kinship taking hold at the comment.

"The page also deviated from the original briefing, where the fiber had only been mentioned in passing, pegged as important but nothing too crucial. It didn't make sense for the police to spend so much time documenting it. Thus, I figured you'd written the page for me and me only." The beignet was swallowed whole and Light had to fight back the urge to vomit. "Do you know the forensics team has accommodating labs," L recited the words circled down the right side of the page. "Not quite grammatically correct, but I understand you had very little to work with."

An internal glare was directed at the panda-frog shoveling fried dough into his mouth, but Light withheld the scathing comment and convinced himself he was only grouchy due to the ungodly hour of the morning. "So you understand?" he inquired lightly, sipping the smooth coffee with his eyes still trained on L.

"You're insulting me," was the bitter response.

Light scoffed. "Hardly, merely implying that, although you are an accomplished detective, there is little you can do to apprehend Beyond without police cooperation. Actually, I'd say this is exactly the scenario B wanted to force you into. You're prideful, B knows that. You wouldn't want the public to discover that he'd made a jail break, it'd be a black mark on your face, though you already have two lovely ones beneath your eyes." Nimble fingers drummed casually against the coffee cup and L pouted at the quip. "However, the only way to ensure the public's ignorance is to not work with the police, or any agency for that matter."

"Which is where you come in," L picked up. "You'd have access to police files and records, both as a witness and though hacking, which is how I assumed you gathered the intel the file contained. It would also make sense in Beyond's eyes, you'd want to capture him, given your extensive research on the man." L couldn't help the bitter undertone polluting that statement and Light wasn't one to let it go unchecked.

"The interviews were most enlightening." A flawless finger dipped into the powdered sugar L had left behind and was quickly licked off. "The man is brilliant in a macabre way. It was difficult to understand fully how his mind worked, even now I have issues with his thought process. You would agree?" he turned the question towards L.

L bobbed his head up and down, back to sucking on his lollipop now that all the fried dough had been consumed. "I can hardly fathom some of the things he's done. But what makes you think he wouldn't trace you back to me? Understand, I will not put my wards in unnecessary danger, at least more than they're already in."

"You don't trust me," Light concluded.

"B wants you to work for me. That alone raises suspicion," L affirmed.

Light nodded in thought. "I'd come to the same conclusion. But either way I see it, you need a man on the street. Unless you know B's ultimate goal here."

"I'm afraid I do not," L admitted, a certain caginess written in his brow. "There are multiple ends Beyond could wish to head towards. What puzzles me most is the kidnapping of one of my other wards." L watched Light, gauging his reaction to the declaration. The boy seemed unaffected with the news.

"It's never been his MO to kidnap people. But this individual's relation to you would explain a few things."

"There is an 18% probability that you're working with Beyond."

Light blinked in disbelief. "I beg your pardon."

"I'm afraid I don't favor reiteration," L deadpanned. "But it's true. Beyond has a way of getting into people's heads. He's a walking blood bourn pathogen, once he makes that cut into you, you can't turn away."

"My family has been targeted by him!" Light snapped. "That alone should show you - "

"All it shows me is that you have a family, and may be willing to sacrifice them in order to do what B wants you to," L interrupted smoothly, voice cutting through Light's words like a shard of glass on skin. "You said it yourself; B wants you to work with me."

An aggravated sigh escaped Lights throat. He felt like bashing his head into the marble, leaving nothing but a bloody mess of brains and blood to wash the powdered sugar away with. L's response was predictable and exasperating. Light could read it in the way the detective was licking at his candy, wide eyed stare unblinking with a spark of inquisitiveness. L wanted to know why B felt the need to include Light in what L no doubt saw his and B's game. Light was merely a pawn, something thrown in to spice up the pot. But L didn't think it was necessary, Beyond was just toying with human lives, and L found it deplorable. Unfortunately, for Light at least, L really wanted to know why Beyond had chosen him. If only the detective had an imagination, Light deliberated crossly.

"You want to know why Beyond wants me, don't deny it." Light didn't have the energy to add a sharp expression to the statement, the only thing he wanted was for L to get the hell out of his hotel room and let him go back to sleep. Watari had just about finished cleaning the kitchen anyway. "At this point I may retract my suggestion."

L blinked and plucked the bright, blue sucker from his mouth. "Why?"

"Because you have no degree of proper manners and its three thirty in the morning."

L lifted his thumb to his mouth and began torturing the nail with his teeth. "…that is not a proper reason to renege on our agreement."

"Then how about this." Light closed his eyes and collected the already dwindling amount of patience he had for L. "You want me to work for you, because if I do the investigation will most likely move forward, which my earlier contribution no doubt proved to you. There is only so much information you can glean by observing from an armchair with mediocre detectives doing your leg work. But at the same time, if I truly am working with Beyond, then not only will you have a link to him, but there's also the chance that I may slip up and incriminate myself, and by extension, Beyond Birthday. You're saying one thing and playing a game to see if I can discern your true intentions. I don't like it."

"Is that not exactly what you did to me earlier?" L questioned innocently.

Damn.

"Okay, then tell me about this agreement before I kick you out on your ass!" Light grit. Watari must have been psychic because another cup of coffee was placed before Light, the empty mug whisked away to the dishwasher.

"You'd work for me." L stated blandly. "You'd be under my employment, hacking into the British Police's database and retrieving any data you see relevant to the case for me. You'll also be sent to crime scenes, use your FBI connections however you want to accomplish that, just do it. The teenagers you saw at the hotel, they will not know about this. I refuse to tell them. As long as you act that part, you may interact with them as you please given that I will be sending them to the crime scenes as well."

Light nodded along as L listed off details. It was what he'd already figured would happen, minus the teens, that could prove to be an issue. "If the children," Light placed a particular emphasis on the word, "are to accompany me, though not outwardly, you may want to rethink their disguises."

Pale lips twisted in a grimace. "Yes," L agreed. "You're probably right about that. I'll take care of it." L sent a meaningful look at Watari and the butler nodded accordingly. Apparently the two shared a telepathic link. "Now, I trust you understand the importance that Beyond never know you are working for me?"

"Of course I understand," Light retorted levelly. "It was my original premise after all."

L's smirked mirrored Light's own at that moment, and he casually hopped down from the bar stool. "Then I believe we have an agreement Mr. Yagami. Watari will leave you with a phone and a laptop through which you may contact me and I you, never turn either one off, and always have the cell on your person."

The butler handed a black laptop case to Light, who opened it and removed the portable computer as well as a sleek, touch screen mobile phone. There was no brand name on either.

Slouching steps shuffled across the wooden floor, L taking his leave with Watari in tow. "Oh," L spun around suddenly, a thought abruptly entering his mind. "I find your future brother in law's career quite intriguing," he remarked passively.

"I came to you. You don't need to blackmail me into working with you," Light said, waving the thinly veiled threat off as if it were nothing more than a stray fly buzzing around his head.

"It's not blackmail, just an insurance policy.

"Hey Sweetie Jam, time to wake up now."

Light groaned, Doctor Kishli's voice clanging against his brain like a cheese grader. Slowly, Lights eye lids fluttered before fully opening.

"So tell me Light, was that as educational an experience as you thought it would be?" the red head grounded out, her arms folded irately over her chest.

"Even more so actually," Light admitted, carefully sitting up. "Where am I?"

"Medical ward," Kishli snapped. "Birthday did quite a number on you my dear. And the rest of the premises I might add."

Light winced, knowing exactly the type of damage Beyond had inflicted, and by addition, Light had. It really was his fautl, he'd been the one with the oh so brilliant idea of letting Beyond out of his cell.

"I take it he's gone then?" Light asked, looking up at the older Doctor.

"Actually no," she admitted. "He locked himself back in his cell."

Light glanced at her quizzically. "He willingly went back into his cell?"

Kishli scoffed as if Light had just said something stupid, which in retrospect, Light supposed he had. "Of course not," the woman laughed bitterly, long fingernails digging into Light's skin as sheremoved the bloodied bandages from his neck, intent on cleaning and redressing the wound. "He asked for something in exchange for his cooperation."

"What?" Light winced as the alcohol met the open, bloodied flesh on the side of his neck.

"You."

A/N: QUESTION, before you guys all go to review, as I know you will. ;)

I've mentioned before that I'm a cosplayer, and my recent endeavor had been Blushing Bride. Yeah, crossdressing, Lolita Beyond. Anyway, I was wondering if any of you guys would be interested in seeing that? Because if so, I'd put more effort into a photo shoot than I normally do.

As always, thank you for reading! Hope all is well!