Ello. Sorry it's late, and short. I've been busy, and I have a bit of writer's block. It's almost the end : Baaaaw. I got piercings done today, so my ears are deadly sore. I'm going to crawl into bed. Also, thanks to the user who favourited this story 3 MWAH.

--ACT IV--

Chapter XVI: Beyond Birthday

Running. I was running down the street. The cool air whipped against my tear-stained face. My legs ached, my lungs burned, but I had to keep running. I needed to run away and hide. From what? I didn't know. I just knew I had to keep running. Hide. Now I needed to hide. I ducked into a nearby bar.

If we stay or walk away, there's one thing that's true; I still love you.

I don't know why I said it. It just slipped out, I could say. But it had been building inside of me, eating at me. I just suddenly broke down and blurted it out.

"I slept with Near," I said. Mihael looked at me. His eyes were wide. I couldn't tell if he was going to hit me or burst into tears.

"What?" he said simply.

"Just once," I said. I could feel panic and tears boiling up inside of me. "I was vunerable...and he got into my head."

"Near always wins," he said. I could hear anger starting to rise in his voice. "Why? What the fuck were you thinking? Why did you let him take the one thing I had that he didn't?"

"He didn't win," I said. Tears broke through, spilling onto my face. "I don't love him like I love you."

"Don't lie to me," he said. I could tell he was trying not fly off the handle. "I know why you did this...it's because I'm not L. And Near isn't either. Well wake up." He glared at me. "There is no L anymore."

"Please," I begged. "Don't tell me it's over."

He didn't say anything, he only grabbed a bar of chocolate. He didn't unwrap it. He just kind of looked at it. I turned away and headed out the door, walking quickly. I saw Near walking slowly down the hall. I approached him, grabbed his shirt and threw him on the ground. He cried out in pain as his head the wall. His toy plane landed with a thud.

"I hate you!" I yelled. "You ruined everything!"

"Ow," he said. "Why did you just assault me?"

"Because you're a creepy bastard," I yelled. "Because you have no shame. Because you tricked me right into bed."

He started getting up, rubbing his head. "I did no such thing," he said defensively. "Did Mello find out?"

"I told him," I said. "I couldn't live with it."

"At least you were honest," he said. "You have a good heart, that's what I love about you."

"Shut up!" I yelled. I started down the hall again.

"Where are you going?" he called after me. "It's too dangerous to go outside alone. You need to have Rester with you."

I kept walking, trying to block him out.

"Morgan," he called. "Don't leave!"

"Shove it!" I yelled back at him.

I picked up the pace, moving into a frantic run.

It's all around, getting stronger, coming closer, into my world...

The bar was dark, and smelled from the liberal use of fog machines. All around me, people were dancing, drinking, smoking, or just glued together in wads of people hanging out. I approached the bar, on the far end, and sat down in the stiff, creaky stool. I hung my head low, trying not to be noticed. But it ended up failing; a man approached me. He was holding two shot glasses.

"You look like you need this," he said, handing me the shot glass.

"What is it?" I said. I sniffed it; it smelled strongly of alcohol, predictably.

"It's rum," he said. "It won't bite."

I took the glass, and he nodded at me.

"Bottom's up," he said, smiling.

I lifted the glass to my lips, pouring its contents into my mouth. It was bitter, but satisfying.

"I'm Vance," the man said, setting his glass down on the bar.

"Morgan," I said, ogling at my glass for a second.

"Why the emo-ness?" he asked.

"I think my relationship's over," I said vaguely.

"Ouch," he said. "I think we'll need another round."

"Sure," I said. I figured I'd rather be stone drunk than think about Mihael.

We kept drinking for the next few hours. After ten shots, he seemed to be only slightly buzzed, but my world was spinning around me.

"Ugh," I said drunkenly. "I hope I don't get sick."

"Maybe I should get you a taxi," he said.

"I've no place ta go," I slurred. "I'm not even from LA."

"We can go to my place," he suggested.

"I dunno," I waffled.

"No funny business," he said. "Honest."

"Okay," I agreed.

"Let me help you," he said, taking my arm.

He helped me up and kept me from falling on my face as I wobbled out the door. I could scarcely remember what happened. He helped me into a car, but I was pretty sure it wasn't a taxi. He noticed my confusion.

"It's okay," he said. "I'm cool to drive."

During the ten minute drive, I started to fade from reality, very close to blacking out. He parked the car, but turned towards me. I was very dizzy, the whole world felt like a dream as he climbed on top of me.

"Whaddya doin?" I said, barely able to form a complete sentence. I could feel that he was unbuttoning my shirt.

"Stoppit," I slurred, blindly thrashing and swatting at him. But he pressed himself on me, and grasped my mouth with his hand.

"It's okay," he said into my ear. "Just go to sleep."

Cool air hit me as the car door opened.

"I knew you would be the type to soil my package," came a voice from beside me. There was a sound like thunder, and my slow working mind took a moment to figure out that it was gunshot. Vance fell limp on top of me. I could feel warm blood soaking into my clothes. I moaned and grunted as I attempted to push the corpse off of me, but all my energy was drained as I slipped into unconsciousness.

Pain. Burning. Light hit my eyes, sending a huge shock wave to my brain. I suddenly fell into a feeling of horrible nausea. I groaned quietly as I regained consiouness. I was in a room, that looked like a basement. I felt that my body was immobile, and I looked down. It was a chilling sight. My body was chained to a pole, but my arms and legs were left unrestrained. I groaned loudly, and closed my eyes and clutched my pounding head. I was startled suddenly when a glass was gently pressed to my lips.

"Drink this," came a familiar voice. "You'll feel better."

I grasped the cup with my shaking hands, taking a big gulp of water. And then I opened my eyes.

Hair. Dark, black, messy hair. Sleep-deprived circles around dark, caffinated eyes. The figure before me was thin, and wearing a white t-shirt and jeans.

It couldn't be. He looked just like L.

"Did you like the dolls?" he said.

"B," I whispered. "But you look just like.."

"You are so beautiful," the look-alike said quietly, lightly stroking my hair. "So beautiful when you are frightened."

I took a good look around the room. My stomach did cartwheels seeing pictures on the walls. Pictures of me. One was in the dark, in a bed. I appeared to be naked. And there was a figure next to me. I recognized the dirty sheets as the ones from the motel I had stayed with Mihael in, right after Near had let me go. It hadn't been my imagination.

"Don't fret, my little toy," he said. "It's better that you here with me now. Away from that little blonde ragmuffin. I just wanted crush that little whelp's neck, watching him defile you. I wanted to cut his throat, and bathe in his filthy blood when I saw him put his dirty hands all over you."

"I love him," I said defiantly.

"No," he said. "You love me. I'm L, and you love me now."

"You're not L," I said hatefully. "You're just a cheap imitation."

He grabbed my throat, and clutched it, almost choking me.

"Wash those filthy wench words from your tongue," he hissed. "Cleanse yourself. Become holy, and give yourself to the one you love. Give yourself to me."

"No," I said. "I don't love you."

"Be warned," he said evilly. "If you don't give in...I might have to take you."

He got up, and began to walk out of the room. He walked with the same slouch, the same slow shuffle. I hated it. I hated to see that walk, that hair, that face again. I wanted it to die in my memories.