#wammyweek

The blood roared in L's ears, drowning everything else out.

The sounds of the guards barking orders and the musky smells in the air, sitting heavily in his lungs. He didn't want to move forward, but found he didn't have a choice. He couldn't show he was afraid. 'L' didn't feel fear.

L took a cautious step towards the glass, looking down at the pitiful sight in front of him.

B was on the floor in a fetal position, jerking in his straight-jacket, his shrieks bouncing off the walls.

All L could do was stare, a coppery taste in his mouth. L's breath quickened, panic shivering up the back of his spine as tears streamed down B's cheeks, each sound making L's blood curdle.

"Kill me!" He screamed, his voice cracked, "Oh, God, it hurts! Just kill me! Please!"

L's knees buckled, a pressure in the back of his eyes. He struggled to keep a neutral face, watching his pupil, the young boy who he'd played hundreds of games of chess with and who he'd personally mentored in so much pain. B's entire face was destroyed, the skin practically melted and warped from the burns. Of course the hospital tried to help him to the best of their abilities, but he didn't even look human. And it seemed like no amount of pain killers were settling him.

B curled into a tight ball, sobbing.

His greatest pupil... it was all his fault... L squeezed his eyes, trying to stave off the guilt. Such a brilliant mind bent and broken under the weight of trying to be his successor... and he'd had a part to play in it. L leaned forward, the cool glass on his forehead. Memories swirled in his brain. His cold and harsh judgement over B's progress, his blasé attitude whenever B tried to get his attention... how B had tried to find help in him after A's death but he was off on a case. Maybe he was too torn over A himself to face his successor, but the fact of the matter was that he wasn't there when B needed him... When B was spiraling and abusing too many substances to keep track of and he started showing psychopathic tendencies.

L was simultaneously chilled and sweaty at the same time, regret flooding his system and drowning his thoughts. He wasn't sure if a day would ever go by when he didn't feel at last some morsel of regret and pain for the creature in front of him.

B cried out, his voice a haunting wail, making eye contact with L. L froze, the gaze too personal.

"L!" His eyes were shining pleadingly, any semblance of pride or competitiveness gone. Only desperation in its rawest form, "L, please... please kill me. KILL ME! If you ever cared about me, you'd kill me..."

L took a step away from the glass, unable to escape those trapping orbs, rooting him to the spot and seeing into his very soul. A look that he'd see in his nightmares for certain. B shook his head, his entire body shaking, his voice coming out breathless and strained.

"It hurts so much... L... I'm sorry. I-I promise I'll be good from now on, just- make it stop hurting."

"I-I'm so sorry, B..."

B’s eyes went hollow, a deadness seeping through his face. For just a second, the thrashing seemed to stop, his voice coming out a cold and cruel hiss.

“I hate you,” he whispered, his lip quivering, “you’re going to die soon... and I can’t wait.” B’s lips twitched, his expression flashing insanity, “I hope it’s painful and agonizingly slow.”

He ran. Like a coward. B's scream followed him, calling out his name like his last lifeline. It was too much. L couldn't handle it.

Leaning against the wall outside, his stomach churned. L's lunch came up, making his mouth taste acrid and assaulting every sense. L gripped his hair, trying to get a grip on the wave rocking through him.

"Fuck..."

All your fault. All your fault. B's condition is on you.

You've destroyed him.

Exhaling, L straightened. He held onto his arms, his knuckles white with the force. There was a presence behind him and he whipped around, half-expecting B. Instead, it was only Watari, his face drawn and grave. The older man glanced down at the slush of vomit, shaking his head and placing a large hand on L's skinny shoulder. L swayed, leaning into the touch.

“It’s not your fault.”

L didn’t say anything.

"Do you want to go home?" Watari asked gently.

L's eyes misted, his throat too choked to say anything. His shoulders hunched, on the verge of a breakdown.

He hadn’t made the connection at first, that the padlock and the car were because of L and not one of the other guests they occasionally received. They would have professors or groundskeepers interviewing for positions, people making various deliveries of food and supplies for the school, repair crews for the old church whose old plaster was in a perpetual state of falling down. Wammy’s House was always full of activity and new faces weren’t uncommon. It wasn’t until he’d accidentally caught sight of a young man he didn’t know about opening up a door in the bare wall that he definitely didn’t know about, that things clicked. The name hovering above black mussed hair and too-bright eyes was L Lawliet, and it then disappeared into the wall with its owner.

It was a revelation, a lightning strike-- that L himself had been secretly visiting the school, staying out of sight by using secret passages none of them had ever noticed before. After that, Beyond had made it his mission to find out how to open that secret door. He knew to keep his mouth shut, and not just because he’d been out of bed and sneaking around Wammy’s at 4 am. L’s pale face and angular features, his stance and posture, how he moved-- Beyond filed it away in his mind with exquisite, rehearsed detail, and told no one but the mirror. It reflected back an ever-improving version painted on the imperfect canvas of his body, as if perhaps if he became L, he too could open that door.

Beyond loved nothing so much as a sneaky puzzle, but sneaking was the easy part. Because although he could make out the faint, well-hidden outline in the wood paneling, he saw no keyhole or any other mechanism to open it. The mystery stumped and plagued him, and many more frustrating months passed before he got another opportunity to watch the door open. In the in-between time, Beyond scoured the library for schematics of Wammy’s House, but those he found had nothing detailing any secret passages. Of course Mr. Wammy wouldn’t be so careless.

It was nearly a year before the padlock on the refrigerator appeared again, and it made Beyond so giddy he could hardly focus on his work that day. He’ll be here soon and I have to make an impression! Beyond wasn’t sure if it was possible to fall in love with a mystery, but that was the nearest thing he could describe his feelings about L as. The students had been told story after story about L’s cases and thinking but next to nothing about the man himself. It made Beyond feel privileged to be in possession of L’s real name and face, like they had a connection despite L not knowing about it. Something about L belonged to him and him alone, and that was like a treasure in his otherwise depressing and anxious days in this place.

The next night, Beyond hid behind a bureau that was close but not too close to the secret door; he didn’t know if L would use it again but he was willing to sit here all night for just the chance. He got lucky, which was rare enough for him. Around 3:15 am, Beyond heard the soft padding of bare feet, and peeked out as much as he dared to verify. It’s HIM! L! He held his breath as L rapidly tapped a spot on the paneling three times and slipped into the passage after the door creaked open. Ah...so that’s how it’s done.

Beyond dashed forward as soon as L was inside and counted to 100 before tapping the same spot L had. He grinned as the door opened a crack, enough for him to wedge his black-painted nails into and pry open. The inside was softly illuminated by electric wall sconces and he followed the twisting narrow passage, up some spiraling stairs, until he emerged in what he guessed was the converted attic of the chapel. Across the dark room and framed by the soft, flickering blue light of a dozen monitors, was L. He was crouched in a tall-backed desk chair, facing away from the doorway and rapidly clacking on his keyboard.

Beyond snuck forward silently, step by step getting closer. His heart was hammering and all the words he’d rehearsed in the mirror to prepare himself for this ever happening had flown from his head and out the stained-glass windows.

“I know you’re there.” L continued to type with one hand as he picked up a cookie from a plate on his desk and nibbled it. “Just introduce yourself already.”

Beyond slid into the shadows, hissing a curse before saying, “I’m, uh...one of the kids who lives here. Beyond.” One of your successors. Do you know about me?

L mumbled, deadpan, “Your boots are very noisy, Beyond.” He stuffed the rest of the cookie in his mouth and swung his chair around. He knew who Beyond Birthday was, mostly by reputation as a troublemaker and from his high test scores meriting him a place in the line of successorship. “If you’re going to sneak around, go barefoot.” He wiggled his toes perched on the edge of the chair and focused on a dark corner when he heard a soft giggle emanating form there. “Mind telling me how you got in here?”

“Followed you.” Beyond was paying extremely close attention to L’s voice, modulating his own to match its pitch and timbre. Softly, “I wanted to meet you.”

L’s eyes widened-- it was almost as if he’d heard his own voice, but the implication surprised him more. Has he guessed who I am? He slowly unfolded from his chair and slouched to the center of the room, now able to see a vague outline of a young man in the shadows. “Come into the light and meet me then.”

Beyond’s heart fluttered as he slowly stepped from the shadows, eyes meeting L’s nervously. He’d spent hours perfecting his makeup to mimic L’s facial features, flat-ironing and then styling his black hair to the similar mussed chaos of L’s. This was his best work yet, but still only a prototype. He only just now noticed that L had no eyebrows, and the details of his clothes had been obscured in the darkness before. I’ll improve.

L stayed silent as he circled Beyond, pressing a thumb against his bottom lip as he took it all in. Other than the clothes, it was almost like looking in a mirror. He came to a stop again in front of Beyond and breathed out, “That’s quite remarkable.”

He’s impressed. Beyond briefly smirked to himself before assuming L’s same posture and inquisitive expression, pressing his thumb to his lip, tilting his head and widening his eyes. In a mimicry of L’s voice, “You think so?”

“Mmmhmm.” L’s mouth twisted as he tried not to smile, unsure if he was disturbed or flattered by this mimicry. His ego being what it was, he leaned more towards flattered and would give some rare praise in return. “You have a talent for disguises.” With an edge. Drily, “And for rooting people out who’d rather stay anonymous. You shouldn’t be here.”

Beyond’s confidence wavered, eyes narrowing as he continued to parrot L’s every movement. But he had something he wanted to say and wouldn’t leave until he had. “I want harder work. More interesting cases.” He could see the spark of interest in L’s eyes and imprinted that the man appreciated initiative, directness.

“And what makes you think Wammy isn’t giving you cases that already challenge your abilities?” L took a step closer, bringing their faces quite close. What kind of puzzle are you? “In any event, the education of the students here is his concern, not mine.” Almost eighteen. He remembered from reading Beyond’s file that they were almost the same age. It was alarming and attractive, that sneaking in here to sate curiosity was something he too might do.

“I am your concern.” Beyond’s voice changed back to his own, and nearly a growl as his frustration bled through. “Aren’t I meant to succeed you one day?”

L smiled behind his finger. “That’s assuming I intend to die. I don’t.” And if I push, will you push back?

“No one lives forever.” Beyond’s gaze flickered above L’s head momentarily before meeting the man’s eyes again. No, you won’t even live to old age. “Not even you.”

L’s breathing sped slightly as he whispered, half-hoping and half-dreading, “And who am I?” There was no way Beyond could really know, even Wammy didn’t know. Hell, L barely remembered. He grasped Beyond’s chin and turned his face when the man tried to look away. “Who?!”

They stood there staring at one another, the authentic and the copy, the original and the backup. Beyond knew he shouldn’t say it, speak it. That doing so would give something away best kept quiet, might give L a thread to follow to the secret room inside himself where so many open graves had been dug. L’s touch made him tremble all over and he jerked his chin away from L’s grasp. “You’re L.”

“That’s only a good guess.”

Beyond’s lip curled at the challenge. No. He couldn’t help but say, “L Lawliet,” before pressing a kiss to L’s astounded face and fleeing the room, running as fast as he could out of Wammy’s. I kissed L! He didn’t bother being quiet as he flew down the hall and flung open the front doors, grinning as he sprinted down the oak-lined drive to the cliffs by the sea. He couldn’t stop giggling as he pulled off his boots and hurled them into the ocean far below, one and then the other. He yelled down to the rocks, “Better to go barefoot!,” and collapsed on the pebbly ground to look up at the stars. 

The sea crashed against the rocks like a predictable laugh track, on his side for now, and the stars flashed like smiles. “I stumped him.” I hooked him. He’d see that padlock again, that green Aston Martin. He’d see L and be oh-so-apologetic for his terrible manners.