Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L is almost 17, investigating a serial murder case near Toronto University. Undercover as a student prodigy, L will have to find a balance between education, investigation, and (ye gods) a social life. Rated M for language/nudity/ gore. Some spoilers for Death Note: Another Note.

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The Worst Feeling Ever

Chapter 21: Emergence

The smell could have been worse, though he could not imagine how. At least it was less oppressive now that they were out in open air. Shifting the weight pulling down one shoulder, L tried to maintain the impression that he was steadying a drunken companion – an impression that would likely be dispelled for anyone approaching them downwind.

L had been shocked to discover the pile of partially dismembered bodies in the furnace room. Staring at it in the flickering firelight, he had wondered if Willette had simply fallen behind in burning them or if he had wanted the remains found this way, a misshapen layercake of death. There had been eleven bodies, by his count, which meant that ten had either been burned in the furnace or disposed of in some other manner. L had circled the pile, visually cataloging everything, ignoring the stench of decomposition, stepping around the foul liquid seeping out at the bottom, determined to memorize every face and preparing to take samples. He had grimaced when he'd glimpsed Gellie squashed between two other bodies, her dark hair cascading over crusted blood and distending flesh as if it sought to shield the bloated, purpling dead below her. He hadn't needed to extract her to confirm that her left foot was missing. Staring at the top of the heap, L had expected to find Beyond's corpse splayed over the others. He had not expected his ankle to be grabbed.

My reaction was well within the range of normalcy, L thought, steadying himself against a tree in the shadows, which makes it that much worse. There is no excuse for normal behavior when it runs counter to what must be done. Luckily, no bones had been broken, he hadn't compromised his disguise, and the only witness to his yelp was not talking.

Unsure of what kind of vehicle would be coming for them, L resolved to be patient. It has been nearly two hours since I called, he thought; Watari has had ample time in which to improvise. Whatever his feelings toward me are at this point, I do not believe that he would abandon us both.

Extracting Beyond had been slow going – he'd been wedged in the pile of bodies, pressed against the cool back wall away from the furnace. After nearly breaking the teen's arm, L had managed to pull him loose without disrupting the rest of the pile too much, and Beyond had had no strength left in him after the ordeal. Unlike the corpses around him, Beyond had been bandaged along his side, which made L think that Willette must have tried to keep him alive for awhile before giving up. L considered this odd – almost as odd as the fact that the Butcher had discarded him without making sure he was dead, but it hadn't been the first time someone had underestimated Beyond.

Trying not to breathe through his nose and idly wishing that his prosthesis included nostril plugs, L glanced down at the half-naked teen draped over him like a filthy bedraggled doll. Beyond's dark hair was matted with grease and dried blood, his ribcage swelling against L with each rattling breath. L gripped the arm he'd almost broken, now wrapped around his shoulders, and held Beyond upright, one hand at the boy's waist just above the trousers he'd stolen from Willette's hideout, low enough to avoid pressing the bandaged incision where his spleen had been removed. Beneath the filth, Beyond's skin looked almost as pale as L's, a testament to how ill he was. He still didn't like Beyond, and he loathed the close contact, but he was glad that the boy was alive. One less debt to pay, L thought, and Aleister will be happy to see him.

"It's you, isn't it, Lawlipop, henh, henh, henh . . ." The voice was more gravelly than usual.

"Conserve your energy." L spoke quietly, not wanting to be overheard and determined not to let a semi-conscious teenager get a rise out of him despite the hated nickname.

"Did you save me? Or am I still there?"

"We are outside. We will be out of harm's way soon." L scanned around them, but no one else was in sight and nothing stirred the foliage.

"Henh, henh, henh . . ." Beyond twisted in L's grip, lifting his head to whisper in his ear. "To get out of harm's way, we must become harm."

L recoiled from his breath, surprised that it could smell any worse than the rest of him. "That makes no sense."

"Sense is not made, it just is. Even you know that." Beyond's forehead knocked against L's temple. "He believed I was you – it was so fucking easy. That crazy-ass piece of shit bought it, hook, line, and stinker."

"Did you pretend to be me to stay alive?"

"Henh, henh – staying alive was just gravy in the boat." Beyond licked his lips, the moist sound too close to L's ear. "I did it to take the heat off you, to buy you time. It worked, didn't it? Didn't I help you, sweet Lawli?"

Fighting a rising gorge, L swallowed, his eyes continuing to survey their surroundings. "It would have helped if you had stayed away. Your impulsiveness and overconfidence robbed you of safety, and you –"

"Oh, we're safe, Lawli-la-la . . . safe as bacon on toast . . ." Beyond's head lolled forward to rest on L's chest again.

L thought unkindly that he preferred it when he was mourning Beyond's death. He hadn't had time to remove Beyond's DNA from the scene, but he supposed that the most police would be able to do was confirm that the body from which the spleen had been taken had been in the room with the others. The police would assume that the body had been burned, or discarded elsewhere, and Beyond's DNA was not in any database, criminal or otherwise, outside of Wammy House.

When he'd peeked into the furnace, L had seen several bones there. His conclusion had been that Willette had never intended to get away with his crimes – the man would have had to be very stupid not to realize that the human body does not break down completely at the temperature levels inside a regular coal-burning furnace. He may wish the police, and Coil, to believe that he is that stupid, L thought, in order to gain his own advantage. Baggies of evidence crinkled in his pockets, including samples he'd taken from Willette himself.

At least Beyond was able to stand with help now. He'd had to carry the boy out of the furnace room, leaving his semi-conscious form slumped in the hallway while he ran back to speak to Geoff once more. Giving Geoff the message he wanted to be relayed to Coil, L had then told him, "You must use the skills you acquire as a doctor to balance what you've done by saving lives." After acknowledging his agreement, he had informed the grad student of the bodies in the furnace room and told him to call the police after 30 minutes had elapsed, turning away to leave him behind still standing over the bound Willette. L had made at least one wrong turn that had turned out right enough – he'd found the door that led down to the tunnel below. He'd left the circular metal door ajar for others to find and gone back the other way, back up and out through the front door of the power plant, the night air holding a sharper chill to it, cutting the heat within him, and against him. I hope Watari arrives soon, L thought.

"You hate me because we're the same." Beyond's breath gusted against his shirt.

Eyes cutting to the back of the boy's head, L frowned. "I do not hate you, and we are not the same."

"Then why did he believe me?" Beyond's head raised lazily. "It's not really our looks. No one knows that –"

"Why did a delusional murderer believe you?" L raised an eyebrow, his wide eyes meeting Beyond's half-lidded ones. "A better question might be why did you believe him when he said he believed you?"

"Henh, henh . . . Claudy-lawdy may have been batshit crazy, but he was no moron." Loose arm swinging up, Beyond grabbed the front of L's shirt, bunching it in his fist, and rasped into L's ear. "Like it or not, he was on our side. He was double-crossing Coil – catching that old fuck was his plan all along. If you hadn't gotten involved, he might actually have pulled it off, too."

Mouth twisting, L remained stock-still, staring into the night, refusing to turn and meet Beyond's dark bloodshot eyes again. "That may be true, but he was murdering people to achieve those results, and there is no justification for that."

"You sound like Ally-oop. Who's the successor now, eh?"

As headlights swung into view, L adjusted his grip on Beyond, ignoring the hushed laughter tickling his neck. "Get ready. We will need to move quickly."

"Oh, will we?"

L kept his tone even as he saw a red pick-up truck turn onto the access road into the park. "Do you want to live?"

"Henh, henh, henh, do you?"

"Just be ready to move when I say."

"Yes master! And when you say jump, I'll ask how high, would you like that?"

L fought the urge to throw Beyond to the ground. "I'd like it if you shut the fuck up."

"Henh, henh, henh!" Letting go of L's shirt, his head rearing and coming to rest on the tree behind them, Beyond stared up into the branches intersecting the night sky, giving L a brief respite from the heat of his breath. Grinning into darkness as the red pick-up truck rolled to a stop nearby, he said "Lawli-lawli-la, I wonder . . . would you like it if I just told you? I owe you a gift, after all . . ."

Rolling his eyes, L turned away, looking toward the vehicle, hoping it held who he thought it would. "You may tell me whatever you like once we have reached our destination."

"Our destination . . . it's always the same – the rot, the ruin, the waste. All predetermined no matter what we do. I almost wish you could tell me, but it's an insight only I possess . . ."

"You are extremely dehydrated and suffering from an advanced infection. Your thinking will be more lucid once you have regained your health." L could see Watari now, walking in front of the truck and lifting its hood as though inspecting an engine malfunction. He was dimly amused to see that the older man was wearing dirty overalls, his grey hair mussed and standing out almost as much as his own. "Come on." L hoisted Beyond and started walking, half-dragging the teen along as they approached the access road.

"Oh sweet, sweet Lawli . . ." Beyond's voice rasped, slick scales over dry grass. "Barely four months past thirty-three . . ."

L ignored him. Even if he wanted to understand why Beyond would riddle him over things that could not be known, he wouldn't give the rantings of an ailing teen much credit. L did not know why Beyond believed in fate and simply chalked it up to a flaw in logic. Lurching as one, gripping each other, they approached their unlikely chariot, moving toward a destination beyond what either of them could see.

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"Stop splashing, you berk! We don't have time for nonsense, we've got to –"

"Nonsense always has time for us, Ally-oop." Beyond was sitting, slumped, in the shower stall, occasionally raising a hand to deflect water onto Aleister.

"You can't go round smelling like a corpse – we'll attract too much attention. Just let me finish cleaning you." Aleister was very aware of the time constraints. As he wielded the sudsy washcloth, he could hear L and Watari moving about the suite, packing everything up, doing a quick cleaning of each room. It wouldn't do for any DNA or fingerprints to be left here, either, even if the police never connected this suite to the Missing Parts case or Officer Maulty's murder.

"Henh, henh – is this doin' anything for ya?" Beyond leered, eyes almost closed, as he waved his limp member in Aleister's direction.

"Ooh yes, nothing better than a flaccid willie on a half-drowned imbecile who smells like death to get me going. I can barely contain myself."

"Henh henh henh!" Beyond gave in to giggles. "You're so much more fun when you get all pissed off. Wonder if it's as fun when you're pissed on . . ."

"If you piss on me, I will cut it off!" Aleister shouted, and felt immediately embarrassed as Beyond laughed harder. "You just did that so they'd hear me shout, didn't you."

"Told you – you're so much fun . . ." Beyond's grin seemed plastered on as his eyes closed fully and he started slumping more to the side.

"Don't you pass out on me either!" Setting the washcloth aside, Aleister reached up to lightly slap his cheek. "We're almost done – just lean forward a bit. There's still muck in your hair."

Mouth twisting slightly, Beyond pushed away from the back wall of the stall and let his head droop closer to Aleister, the jet of water from the shower spraying off of his back and head. "Fine."

Squirting out another palmful of shampoo, Aleister worked it into Beyond's hair, not trying to be gentle anymore, just trying to get him clean and be done with it. "Keep your eyes closed – it'll sting if this gets in."

"Henh henh . . . it always stings the first time . . ."

Aleister exhaled sharply. "I can't decide if you're more or less hilarious when you're this out of it. You're like a . . . a drunken ten-year-old."

"Henh, considering you've called me a five-year-old before, does that mean I'm more mature like this?"

"Yes, that's the odd bit. Then again, if you were less mature than usual, you'd be sub-infantile – a fetus. Lends a new relevance to 'Beyond Birthday', don't you think?" Aleister didn't feel entirely comfortable taunting his friend in his vulnerable state, but he knew better than to act too sympathetic. Beyond never reacted well to that.

"A new relevance? Henh henh – how do you know that isn't my original meaning?"

"That would require forethought on your part – something of which you're obviously incapable." Aleister tossed his hair as he began rinsing the soap out of Beyond's.

"You'd be surprised, Ally-oop, you'd be surprised . . ."

Aleister looked at Beyond's still-bent head warily. "So does that mean you intended for the murderer to capture you?"

Beyond swung his head up, sending an arc of water Aleister's way. "Intentions, detentions, retentions, conventions – all irrelevant." His eyes sparked. "We are what we are, and what happens must happen. I learned so much, Ally. I saw him, saw what he really was – I could almost taste his mind. It's all clear now. Everything happens for a reason. I wasn't really sure what I was doing before, but I know now. I understand."

"Beyond, what are you –"

"I can't tell you yet – there's too much to think about. But you'll understand too, soon. I promise."

Aleister suppressed a shiver as he reached up to shut off the flow of water, the last of it draining away with a hollow choking noise. His pajamas were soaked from Beyond's splashing, and he'd have to change quickly. Grabbing a towel to daub the water from his friend's body, he noticed some blood seeping through the bandage and knew he'd need to clean and redress it quickly. Thumping sounds of suitcases dropped on carpet in the next room indicated there was little time left. They'd be on the move within the hour, perhaps faster than he wanted to go.

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"Ah, Toronto – I feel that we are old friends now. Greetings and salutations to you all! I would happily lift a glass in celebration with you to share in the joy of this moment. And what are we celebrating? Why, the capture of the Toronto Butcher of course! A deeply disturbed individual by the name of Claude Miller. I have just now seen him brought to his cell, the first of many cages in which he will live out the rest of his short life. The last puzzle piece fell right into place as expected, with the help of an on-campus informant. We have located additional remains, and the Toronto Metropolitan Police are working to identify all of them so that their families may have closure at last. This nightmare is finally over. My duties here are done. But no – serving you was no mere obligation! It was an honor to do right by this city and stop these brutal murders. Thank you all so much, and may fair Toronto flourish once more. Adieu!"

Keeping his eyes closed, L pretended not to hear the announcement blaring out of the radio. He longed to reach for the remaining candy, but not even sugar was worth being beset with questions he did not want to answer. Soft edges of dawn peeked in through his closed lids as the ridges of his back pressed into supple leather. The rumble and purr as they continued along the highway was soothing – almost too soothing. L was vaguely amused at the notion that he might actually fall asleep while pretending to be asleep. Several ideas on what he would do to defeat Coil had already shuffled through his mind, and more were coming. I will need to prioritize, he thought. Surgical strike, bloodless – erode the trust of Coil's allies, cripple his operation, and when he's distracted by that . . . give Devall what he needs to close the case of Maulty's murder, correctly. It's only fair.

He was relieved to be done recounting his analysis of Coil's coded messages to Willette in his previous announcements. L suspected that Watari had only asked him to do so for the benefit of his two successors, only one of whom had been paying even the slightest attention, though it was also possible that the older man had simply wanted his three passengers occupied enough to allow him some peace while driving. The "mistakes on two and five" Coil had referred to had been dirt that had not matched the scene and a hesitation mark possibly indicating that the bone saw had jammed, all of which had been detailed in the police reports. The "error on thirteen" had indicated that Coil believed Willette had intended for the blood on the ground to match that in the container, but L did not believe that had been Willette's intention. L wondered if Coil had actually helped Willette pick out victims who were not in the system, but dismissed the idea as too hands-on for the older detective. Regarding clues, "the ones you meant to leave, and the ones you didn't" as Coil had put it, L was certain that Coil had simply been telling Willette not to be too sloppy. Coil didn't want me to beat him to the solution, L thought, and it would have looked even worse for him if a regular detective had solved the case, which in fact nearly happened. When Coil had spoken of Willette "making people suffer for the sins" of his "forebears," he'd been implying that Willette was punishing the people of Toronto in retaliation for what had happened to his father, thus preparing the fabricated motivation Coil would provide for Willette to the police. Telling the Butcher that he was "running out of time" had just been Coil's way of telling Willette to wrap it up and prepare for the end game.

The latest announcement had been annoying to hear, but L didn't let it bother him. It is interesting that Coil has chosen to use Willette's alias instead of his real name on-air, L thought. In all likelihood, he is seeking to prevent police and the public from making the connection to the Mississauga Murders case, since he managed to expunge the case files, but this will not work in the longterm without collusion from the police, as there are too many officers who remember that case first hand not to notice eventually. Saying that the Butcher occupies the "first of many cages" suggests that Coil had made an agreement with Willette to avoid execution, and after all, not every cage is a prison. Perhaps Coil intends to employ the man in some capacity . . . He let his right hand slip off his knee as if in sleep, surreptitiously worming it into his pocket. L suspected that Coil's reference to the "last puzzle piece" falling into place was a subtle dig at Willette, maintaining the public impression that the Butcher had been assembling a puzzle rather than crafting an alphabet for a message he had yet to send. L didn't know what the exact wording of the message would have been, but the conversation he'd had with Willette had given him the gist of it. Seems almost unfair that Coil gets to spew his misinformation and Willette does not, L thought, but we're already past two wrongs at this point, and none of them will make a right . . .

Loading the car for their journey northeast had gone more smoothly than expected, with Beyond being surprisingly cooperative, though he'd been in no condition to help them pack and carry things. In the pre-dawn darkness behind the hotel, he'd tried to help Watari fit everything into the trunk before being shooed away to occupy the interior with his erstwhile successors. L had removed the awful blond wig as soon as the tinted windows of the limousine shielded him from potentially prying eyes and immediately popped a root beer barrel in his mouth, staring at the two boys who had seemed to be gazing at the floor. Still sucking on the candy, L had said "At my request, Watari has hired a male prostitute who resembles me."

Beyond, barely awake, had snickered and slumped toward the door on the other side of Aleister, who sputtered in shock. "I'm sorry, what?" had been Aleister's response.

"This person will be making himself visible traversing the outskirts of the Toronto University campus, thus giving any observers the impression that Ezekiel Penn has not yet departed." L had replied. "Watari's friend Chauncey was unavailable to assist, so we are having his associate Lopov shadow the prostitute to ensure that he is not apprehended by police, or anyone else. Then we'll be providing him plane tickets out of the area, in a different direction than we are taking. Odds are the prostitute will be safer than he usually is on the street." L had then raised an eyebrow at Aleister's still-dubious expression. "I do not believe Watari intended to employ him for his regular services."

Aleister had rolled his eyes at L. "I'm relieved to hear it. And thanks very much for the horrific image."

L just managed not to smile at the memory, keeping his face slack and his breathing slow. His fingers toyed with the pink hair tie in his pocket, unseen by the others in the car. The two hairs that had been entangled with it had since been separated in an evidence bag, as had been the unused condom, just in case. L wasn't sure exactly why the hair tie had been packed with his things from his dorm room. No, of course I know why, he thought; Aleister likely assumed I would want some memento of my . . . I'm not even sure what to call it. Tryst? Misadventure? First and possibly last sexual experience? Hm, that's closer to it. Aleister is far too sentimental sometimes. Continuing to stroke the elastic circle, L allowed his head to drop back against the leather seat, heedless of the two teens to his left.

Consciousness was slipping as Toronto slipped behind them, and L let it. It would be awhile still before they arrived in Montreal. He remembered Watari's favorite quote from Winston Churchill: "If you're going through hell, keep going!" And if I can actually sleep through part of the journey, L thought, so much the better.

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Author's Note: Ah Beyond. Such a subtle sense of humor. ^_^ You didn't think I'd actually kill him, did you? And yes, I used the fanon nickname for L because it sounds precisely like something L would hate, and thus something Beyond would taunt him with. Sorry again for the delay – life is . . . intrusive. I'm still working out the ending for this, so it may be 23 chapters or it may be as many as 25. Too soon to tell. *bangs head on desk*

As an aside, the song I'm hearing as sort of a theme for L and B is "Solaris" by Failure. As to from whose perspective the lyrics might be, I will leave for you to decide.

Thanks for reading!