So yeah, that's a thing. I've been dropping subtle hints about Yori being A for a while now, and I figured it was finally time for the reveal. For those who don't know because it's a bit of an obscure reference: A was the first choice to be L's successor, with BB being second in line. But, he couldn't handle all the pressure. A committed suicide and BB became… well, BB.

Also, please review. It helps me gain motivation. More motivation means faster updates. Faster updates mean less awful cliffhangers. Less awful cliffhangers mean happy readers. Plus, reviews completely make my day, I absolutely love them.

Ellie Lawliet's P.O.V.

I tailed Beyond Birthday for several blocks, until he eventually ducked into what looked like a hospital. He went down a flight of stairs until he came to the very bottom. He went through a door that led to some section that had been blocked off. It looked like it hadn't been used in quite some time.

BB made his way through a series of corridors. I followed closely while examining my surroundings. The halls looked as if they had once been white, but years of obvious neglect had left them tarnished and moldy. The air smelled of blood and antiseptic, with just a hint of rat poop. It was rancid. Every whiff made me want to tear my own nose off.

I continued pursuing my prey until he turned into what I could only guess was where he spent most of his time. One corner was littered with broken glass and jar lids. It looked like he simply threw them over his shoulder when he was done eating and didn't bother to clean them up. There was a hospital bed in another corner facing an old television set. The news was blaring, saying something about the feet he'd left in the park. It seemed to be the only clean part of the entire area.

However, what really caught my attention was the slab in the center of the room. I stood, horrified, as I saw several lumps of flesh that were being stitched together to resemble someone. The work was masterfully done and it depicted a gruesome, yet uncanny likeness to the subject.

It was like BB had created a Frankenstein's monster version of L.

He had clearly taken his time doing this. He found someone with L's hair and used that, then someone with his same nose and stitched that on, continuing until he had created the creepiest rag-doll I had ever seen. However, L's – no, that thing's – left leg and both its hands were missing.

"I know what you're thinking," BB said, startling me out of my thoughts, "You're upset that I have all the jam. Well, here you go," He held out a spoon and my heart skipped a beat, thinking he could somehow see me. However, I relaxed once I realized he wasn't talking to me, but to his deranged project. "Oh, come now, it's all right, go ahead, have some." BB stuffed the spoon into the corpse's swollen mouth and laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

As his cackles slowly ebbed, he dipped his hand into the jar he had produced from somewhere while I wasn't looking, and licked his fingers with a nightmarish grin. He placed the jar to the side, and pulled something from his pocket. My jaw dropped as I saw that it was a disembodied hand. He had kept it from dripping everywhere by placing it in a Ziploc bag, and now it was practically marinating in its own blood and pus. I nearly vomited right then and there.

BB hummed happily to himself as he sowed the new piece onto the project's left arm. He was extremely precise, making sure that everything lined up perfectly. At one point, he dripped some of his jam onto the project. Without a second thought he scooped it back up and ate it anyway. If it were possible for me to be sick, I would have.

I could only take so much, so I had to look away. I would not be able to stay here with this madman. I didn't even have a plan for how to take him down. However, I definitely wasn't going home until this matter was solved. For one, L's life was in danger as long as BB remained; and secondly, I was still mad at him for being obsessed and insensitive. Nate would miss me, I'm sure, but he's in good hands. Even if L was stupid enough to neglect him – which I doubted – Yori and Weston were still there, as well as Watari and Mr. Yagami. My son would be well cared for in my absence.

I knew of only one place I could go for help, and I knew exactly how to find it.

I thought back to the letters we had sent Matt and Mello containing the papers from various death notes. I knew Mello would be too cautious to give the address of where he actually is, but I was certain the notes had gotten to them. That meant I would be able to find him.

Sneaking one last glance at the gruesome scene, which I immediately regretted doing, I turned around and left the way BB had come. Once outside, I stared at the building for a long while, committing it to memory. Now that I knew where BB was staying, I could not allow him to shake me. When I was finally satisfied that no details would be forgotten, I turned, and took off in the direction of Matt and Mello.

My whole mortal life I had dreamed of flying. Before that I had viewed it as merely commonplace, and thus nothing to be admired. But now, after having been stuck on the ground for so long, I reminded myself to appreciate every minute of it. I breathed in the cold air as it whipped across my face. I didn't bother trying to hide from the shinigami. If they tried to follow me across the ocean I'd just camouflage myself in the clouds until I was too far away for them to keep track of my movements.

It was a long way back to the Americas. Matt and Mello were somewhere near California, according to the mailing address. I made sure to swipe a few chocolate bars for a certain chocoholic, and a pen and envelope before touching back down. It's amazing how petty theft seems so insignificant when you're trying to take down the world's worst criminals 24/7. In my mortal age, before L, I would have been severely guilty if I took even something as small as a pencil without paying for it. At this point I couldn't care less.

I stuck the chocolate in the envelope and wrote the address. I had forgotten what their alias names were, so I just left that bit blank. Slapping a stamp on it, I placed it in the post office bin and waited.

It took all night for someone to finally come collect the mail. I had been hovering cross-legged over the pile of messages for hours, my hand supporting my bored head.

When a scrawny, teenage boy came in and took the mail, I decided to just hitch a ride, sitting on the pile of postage. I only moved when he stopped so that I could see when they grabbed my letter.

Luckily, it was right at the top. A postal worker grabbed an armful of letters and brought them over to a work table, where he began sorting it out. When he got to mine, he stopped short, staring at it for a moment.

"Hey, Carlos, come here a second," The man called out.

Another, slightly older-looking man with curly brown hair came over. "Yeah, Ben, what is it?"

Ben held the letter up and handed it to Carlos, "We got another one. This one's kinda heavy."

When Carlos examined the address, his face grew sober. He didn't say anything. Instead, he nodded and started walking away. I followed him out a back door and back outside. He kept to dark alleys, and took several winding turns. At one point, he passed the letter to someone loitering outside a gas station. I followed the woman through a series of several more twists and turns until she passed it to another person. This cycle went on about five more times until finally the last person – who was taller than a tree and sported more muscle than an ox – slipped the letter through a slot in a heavy metal door that looked strong enough to withstand a nuclear blast.

I peeked my head through the door, and watched as someone bent down to pick the letter up off the floor. He smoked a cigarette, and carried a gun at his hip. I'd recognize that cocky grin anywhere.

It was Matt.