#51 Late

Angel never really did get the hang of organisation. Unusual for a girl at Wammy's house, her bedroom was a mess, piles of paper covered in sums and half-finished essays littered the place. She often scattered them when she ran to her classes too, the poor thing was only lucky even her half-finished essays were prime examples of her brilliance.

She was notoriously scatterbrained, leaving her glasses in some silly place so she would be sure to remember them, then promptly loosing the things until one of the children or the staff happened across the thick lenses. L would have to lead her about by the hand for the days in between when her vision was blurred.

People sometimes joked that she lost them on purpose, so that she could hold L's hand.

And in every possible way, she was always late. Late handing in work, late running into class, late for meal times, the poor child seemed to live in a perpetual rush. It was no wonder she often looked so tired and frazzled, her long curly red hair scraped back into a ponytail that wouldn't always hold, and certainly didn't make her look neat, and her lop-sided buttons on her blouses, done up in such a hurry that often it looked as though she had dressed in the dark.

When she mumbled about this to L, he'd always kiss her forehead and tell her that so long as she was still Angel, he couldn't care less what peculiar out-of-sync timetable she chose to keep.

He was always so good at reassuring her, when she had doubts about this place and her standing as the first to take over, should anything happen to L. She would whimper that really, she was afraid of the day she would become the new L, because that would mean he was gone, and she'd have to stand on her own. She said she'd run out of time on the cases.

L always shook his head to these concerns, and promised nothing would ever happen to him, that he loved her too much to let her have to live through the cruelty of the world alone.

But of course, he couldn't protect her from the cruelty of the house, when he was away on cases.

The other children would tease her, not enough to get themselves in trouble, but just enough, enough to sow the seeds of doubt and misery, which her intelligent and imaginative mind would nurture into something… dark.

Beyond was the worst, with his little giggles and 'playfully' pinching her arm in places where no-one could see. Angel started to cry into her pillow at night, and her time-keeping got worse.

When L came back she was so happy; those short visits made it all bearable, if only for a little while. She never told, of course, who would have believed that Beyond Birthday, a boy she and L had grown up with could ever mean to harm her?

She didn't even realise at first when she fell pregnant. Why would she? She was used to being late and out-of-sync with the world, and she was tired and depressed most of the time anyway.

It wasn't until Beyond started whispering to her that she was looking chubbier than usual, and her skin was glowing a little, that the thought occurred to her.

One cheap pregnancy test had shaken her little world apart.

Beyond, in the guise of a dear friend, snuck out and brought it for her. He waited out in the hall while she did it, and put an arm around her when she came out with the news.

He stroked her hair as she stood, struck dumb with the shock, and whispered, "It's his, isn't it? What a shame, Angel, he'll want to give up being a detective to look after you and the baby. But nevermind, right? I'm sure he won't blame you, he never could… and certainly he won't resent the baby as it grows up, for taking his life away, I mean."

He followed her to her bedroom, stood in the doorway smiling.

"Oh Angel, what are you going to do? Are you going to tell him? Or are you going to keep quiet and have it adopted? Of course, you're very young, it probably won't survive anyway… even if it did, I doubt your body's up to nine months growing a baby…"

He smirked wider when she started tying the bed sheets into a noose.

"Don't worry Angel… L has me to take over, I was always stronger anyway, wasn't I?"

He moved her chair over for her to stand on, tie the noose to a ceiling beam.

"Don't worry Angel… I'll tell them all you couldn't take the pressure." He purred in a voice like a knife scraping across stone. "No-one will ever know about the baby."

He watched her kick the chair away and counted down the seconds above her head, listening to her choke until she finally gave up.

And then he smirked, and checked the time against the calculation he'd made for her time of death.

He giggled. "Oh look Angel, for the first time ever you're right on time."

====NOTICE===

The last five chapters of this Drabble Challenge are as yet without titles!

I've decided to hold a contest to fill them in.

Anyone whom wishes to enter may submit either a piece of artwork or writing.

The art must be of something (an event or OC) from either of the two drabble challenges I've written.

Written submissions must be either continuations of drabbles and/or involve an OC from the drabble challenges

The winners will be given the chance to choose the title and is they so wish, pairing/events of the final five drabbles to this collection.

I will keep posting this notice until chapter 95 just to make sure newcomers to the fiction see it.

Please send the submissions to me in a PM with the header 'Contest submission' or email me at the address in my author profile.

Good luck! : ) -Esk