The doctor simply nodded in response to what I had to say about the children of Wammy's House.

After that, we had a short break, while he got up for two glasses of water. One for himself, and one for me. Of course, mine had to have a straw, since my wrists were still restrained in this damn straitjacket.. But I was glad to finally have a drink, so I didn't argue. Besides, even if I did, it was clear no one was willing to trust me that much anyway.

I took a sip from the straw and sighed, quietly looking up at the man opposite of me.

"When you were a child in Wammy's Institution, did this voice talk to you then? Or did you really start noticing after Aiden's death?" He asked me.

I bit my lip in thought for a moment, casting a glance down at the floor. It was true that I really started noticing after A died.. But that wasn't when it started up. No, if I thought hard enough.. I probably couldn't pinpoint an exact time when I started hearing that voice in my head. Maybe I first started switching personalities after his death, but before that...

"Before A died, the voice did talk to me inside my head.. But I didn't start switching until after." I shrugged, choosing my words carefully. If it's one thing I learned, it was to word my answers wisely.

"Well.. Tell me about it."

Flashback

I caused a lot of mischief in Wammy's House.

I was the most trouble out of all the children there. Whether it was stealing from others' belongings or from the kitchen, writing or painting on the walls, even taking it upon myself to redo other childrens' hair in their sleep.. I was a troublemaker.

For example.. I once cut off a girl's braid in her sleep. Her name was K. When she woke up, she screamed so loud that it'd be impossible to be in the same house and not hear her. She ran crying to Roger, and I got in big trouble for that.. Guess her hair was just that important to her.

Another time, I grabbed red paint from Roger's office supply closet, and painted a huge 'B' on the wall in the hallway outside his door. Of course, even if I hadn't written a 'B', it'd be no secret for anyone to figure out who had done that. Not only did I have to wash it off the wall myself, but I had more cleaning duty. What an unfair punishment, if you ask me.

There were many more incidents. Too many to get into detail about. But the same person always told me to go through with each and every one. And that person was the voice inside my head. Not A. Not myself. No. If I'd been alone, no one would have convinced me, and half of those stupid things I probably never would've done.

A tried to talk me out of things so many times... But I just kept getting convinced on how fun and awesome they'd be to go through with. I dyed my hair purple with temporary dye, released rats throughout Wammy's House, even stole Roger's glasses and hid them in H's room.

But there was one idea I came up with all by myself, that I needed no amount of convincing for.

It was around midnight, and we were all supposed to be asleep two hours ago. But I just couldn't sleep.. Not with an empty stomach and a craving for sweets. More specifically, that new strawberry shortcake Watari had brought over for L earlier. This was one of those times L and Watari were staying with us, and they were rare. After us first generation kids.. I think it went from rare, to never.

I walked downstairs to the kitchen, glad that I was a child with light footsteps, and quickly made my way over to the fridge. In my mind, this was sort of like a fun game, the objective being to grab the cake and bring it back to my room without getting caught. I was sure I'd eat it all, and only leave the empty box there tomorrow. It wasn't a guarantee that I'd get in trouble.. But even if I did, so what?

However, just as I had the cake in both hands, spinning around to make my way back to my room, I came face to face with a wide awake L. My grin faded, and my innocent eyes widened a bit. I almost called L by his real name. "L.." I blinked.

"Hello, Backup."

My eyes narrowed. "It's B."

"Your alias is Backup." He stated bluntly.

"I hate my alias."

"That may be. But it is still your alias.. However, if you really insist upon being called B, I will do so for the time being." L offered.

I shrugged my shoulders. Clearly that was the best I would get from the young detective. I hugged the cake box protectively to my chest, though he still saw it, gaze shifting from my eyes to my arms. "Is that my cake..?" He asked quietly.

"No.. It's my cake.." I mumbled, shifting a bit where I stood and starting to walk past L. But he stepped in my path, effectively blocking me from walking back upstairs.

"You should not take things that don't belong to you, B. Stealing is bad." He scolded me with a much too casual facial expression. Then again, his facial expressions rarely did change.

"I didn't. This is mine." I lied once again.

L sighed, "I would allow you a slice of my cake if you admit it is not yours... And apologize."

I frowned and chewed on my bottom lip. Apologizing? That was not something I did well. And clearly L would not fall for any cute innocent act I could come up with.. So.. "It's your cake. Sorry." I forced out, unable to look him in the eyes.

L nodded his head and gave the slightest of smiles, quickly taking the box from me. He set it down on the counter and opened the top before I had the chance to blink, taking a nice big knife from the kitchen drawer, the kind I love to play with, and cutting a decent sized slice for me. I was pleasantly surprised, since I figured L would only give me a little bit of his cake.

"Thank you." I smiled, taking the slice on a plate and eating with my hands. He looked down at me with a disapproving sigh, shaking his head and handing over a fork. "Here."

I shrugged my shoulders and took the fork, digging in and shoveling pieces of cake into my mouth quickly. Strawberry shortcake.. Man I love that stuff. Almost as much as strawberry jam.

Suddenly, I felt myself speak. I hadn't thought of any words beforehand, which led me to only one conclusion.. It was talking. That other side of me. It spoke for me. "What do you think of me, L?"

L blinked a few times, as if processing my question, and biting his thumb as he always did. "Hm.. What do I think of B.." He mumbled to himself, looking down at the tiles of the kitchen floor. "You are a bright and unique child, B. You stand out from the other children. I look forward to see how your future turns out. I think you would make a fine successor, despite how.. Others may think of you." His opinion of me was worded surprisingly polite. I was happy.

And this showed from the genuine smile on my lips. "Thank you." I told him simply, putting the fork and empty plate down on the counter. He nodded, "Don't you think you should be getting off to bed now?"

I tilted my head slightly, "Will you tell anyone about this?"

L shook his head, "I don't see a reason to.. As long as you know better than to repeat tonight's experience."

Of course, I lied right off the bat. "Of course I do."

L didn't seem to believe me completely.. But he let the matter drop. "Alright." He pointed to the staircase. "Goodnight, B."

I nodded and smiled, walking quickly but quietly back up to my bedroom. After that, I was able to get a good night's sleep, with thoughts of L on my mind.

Of course, none of my other antics ended so positively, but that one had to have been a favorite of mine. It was the first time L and I could walk away without a challenging stare, and had genuine smiles on our faces. Almost like friends.

Sometimes I believe L knew about the voice from a very young age. Unlike everyone else, he was way more intelligent, and observant. He saw me when I talked to myself, saw me when I cut myself off in the middle of a sentence and looked deep in thought.. Almost as if I was listening to someone else talk. Someone that he could not hear.

He never asked about it though. What a shame. I would have gladly explained anything he wanted to know, even if I myself found it difficult to fully understand.

But I shouldn't just go into negative details about what the voice did. It also helped me in times when I was in trouble. If Roger was interrogating me in his office, I always had the answers. Whether they were the truth, lies, or just plain out made me sound like a smartass, they were still answers. And they always worked. Thanks to that special voice.

The only person I ever really allowed to tell me what to do, what to say, what to think.. Even how to act.

And this carried on into my teenage years, as you could imagine.. What with the LABB cases, that damn voice never left me alone, even if I now began to actually want it to. It took control sometimes, switching personalities and unable to remember anything except a blur from what had happened. I didn't kill Quarter Queen. He did. Beyond Birthday. I killed Believe Bridesmaid, and Backyard Bottomslash. But Quarter Queen? A thirteen year old girl? No. That was all him.

And I preferred it that way.

Author's Note: More suggestions are always welcome!