Lawli: I know I shouldn't be starting a new fic, but oh well. This came to me during my final general psychology class while we were discussing Schizophrenia, because based on the symptoms in our notes and the discussions in class I kept thinking to myself 'B kind of fits these symptoms'. And thus a new fanfic idea was borne. I figured I'd just post it now and see what kind of response I got from it rather than wait - because if I waited I'd probably forget the idea.

Please note I'm not an expert on Schizophrenia. All I have is what I learned in Gen. Psych and facts from my textbook (which I sadly have to return next week..) If I happen to state anything that is actually incorrect or unlikely for a person with Schizophrenia, please let me know so I can change it right away. I know this won't be completely realistic given that this is still Death Note, but I would like to make it as much so is I can considering the circumstances.

Also note that this story jumps back and forth between the past and the present/future. The parts that take place in the present/future will be in italics.

The pairing for this fic is Beyond Birthday x L. I haven't decided yet if I'll be adding any additional pairings yet.

Sorry this AN is so huge. I'll wrap it up now. Please read, enjoy, and review. Feedback would be very, very, VERY much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. If I did there would be a lot more B.B.!

The Decorative Kind
Chapter One

He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes that appeared black in the room's dim lighting and arms and legs spread across the mattress as if he was tied by the limbs to the bed posts. For nearly three days he'd been in this position, and though they all tried countless times none of the caretakers managed to rouse him from his stupor; they couldn't even get him to eat – when they tried to force him on the first day, he gagged and threw up over the edge of the bed and after that no-one even dared to bring food in for him.

Wammy's House was just as he expected it to be: a large, brick structure filled mainly with children who cried inconsolably and adults who walked around with fake smiles on their faces because they knew of no other way to deal with the misery that surrounded them. Wammy's House was an orphanage, a place children were sent when they had no place left to call home or (in Beyond Birthday's case) when they had a home but were no longer wanted there. It was also a special place of untold opportunity – or so he'd been told. Hearing this did not make him like Wammy's House any better, but it did give him something to think about during the slow passing hours of the days that he spent cooped up in his bedroom.

"You're special, Beyond. Very special, just like this place. That's why you're here. You'll see."

Beyond had been told he was special on several occasions in the past; once by his third grade teacher (who'd patted him on the head and given him ice for the bruise on his cheek after he'd come running into the classroom in the middle of recess screaming that one of his classmates hit him) and all the other times by his mother right before she burst into tears and fled from the room because she couldn't bear the sight of him.

"My special boy, my special boy..."

"Are you awake?"

Sliding his eyes open (not even remembering at what point he'd closed them), he focused on a young woman whose face was already irritatingly familiar to him. Momentarily, his gaze flickered to the spot above her head before he met her eyes. She smiled at him, a decidedly fake smile, and moved over to the window to open the blinds. Beyond squinted as strong rays of light illuminated the room, and instead of bringing comfort it only served to further discomfort him. He brought his hands up to his face, nails scraping at the skin around and underneath his eyes to relieve an itch that he simply could not scratch.

The woman, who confused him by calling herself Lavender when her name was clearly Lucy Donovan, rushed to his side and grabbed his hands, pulling them back down to his sides and holding them there. Beyond's eyes were narrowed into slits to block the sun from reaching his highly sensitive retinas, but he still managed to make out a hazy outline of her body as she finally released his hands and took a step away from him. He gazed at her expectantly, wanting to know why she was bothering him and yet not wanting to waste the energy to actually ask her. He wanted nothing to do with these people or with Wammy's House. All he wished for was to return to his home – and since he knew that that wasn't going to happen (his mother couldn't stand to look at him, her special boy; she couldn't handle him, didn't know what to do with him) he didn't really care about what it was Lavender-Lucy wanted with him.

After several minutes passed in silence, the young woman walked over to the door and opened it. Beyond initially thought she was going to leave, and he almost smiled, but then he noticed her making room for another person to enter and his features darkened once again. The last thing he wanted was more company. He'd had enough of the caretakers trying to coerce him into leaving the bedroom and socializing with his new family; he didn't want to listen to it anymore. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? If he couldn't be in his house with his mother, then he desired to just be by himself; he would not accept Wammy's House as his home, and he would not accept the other children or the caretakers as his family. He didn't care if this place was special – because he was special too, and no one cared about him.

"Hello, Beyond Birthday."

Turning his head minutely to the side, Beyond caught a glimpse of the one who had just entered the room. Judging from the size of the form and the pitch of the voice, it was an adult older than Lavender-Lucy, and a male. Since he stood on the other side of the room and Beyond's vision was not at it's best, he had difficulty discerning what the man looked like, but once the man moved closer he was able to make out neatly cut brown hair and glasses concealing squinty eyes. Above the man's head were two rows that Beyond was accustomed to seeing whenever he looked directly at anyone (it was what made him special, it was what made his mother afraid of him), but with this lighting, everything in the room appeared too bright and the man's name and lifespan were too difficult for him to read.

If the man found his silence rude in any way, he didn't show it. Instead, he walked further into the room as if he'd been invited to do so, making his way over to the blinds and pulling them closed. "Lavender must not be aware that Beyond Birthday is photophobic," he said to the young woman. "Please remember in the future. I apologize, Beyond."

His voice was soft, almost soothing, but not without a note of authority and Beyond decided right away that he liked it and that it was the only voice at Wammy's House he would agree to listen to for the time being. Without the painfully bright light obstructing his view, Beyond cast his eyes back on the man, immediately focusing on the spot over his head and reading the letters that spelled his name.

Q u i l l s h W a m m y.

Wammy's House... This must be the man they call father.

"May I sit down?" Quillsh Wammy asked, gesturing with one hand towards the bed which Beyond was still sprawled across. Beyond was hesitant, but he eventually rolled onto his side and drew his legs up to his chest so that the man would have enough room to take a seat. "Thank you," Quillsh said, situating himself comfortably on the mattress. They sat quietly for two minutes before Quillsh spoke again, declaring how he had yet to introduce himself. "How incredibly rude of me. I am Quillsh Wammy – but please, I would prefer it if you called me Watari."

Brows furrowing, Beyond contemplated why it was that everyone at Wammy's House seemed so unwilling to reveal their real name. Idly he wondered if it had to do with why Wammy's House was special.

Quillsh – Watari – leaned back against the wall, averting his eyes (Beyond could now easily tell they were a very light shade of blue) to the floor, which he stared at intently for several minutes before glancing at Beyond once again. "It has come to my attention that during the three days you have spent at Wammy's House, you have yet to leave your room and have even refused to eat." He paused, and then continued. "But this is not why I have come to speak with you."

Beyond waited for him to continue, but Watari stared at him as though he was expecting him to say something. Eventually, after clearing his throat, Beyond asked, "what is it then?" His voice was hoarse from having spent days crying, and he cringed at how pathetically weak it sounded.

Watari smiled at him, reaching down and placing an arm on his shoulder. "I want to know if there is anything you'd like."

Beyond's eyes narrowed, this time out of anger. Anything he'd like – was that supposed to be some kind of joke? Was this man seriously asking him that? Anyone with a brain could figure out that the only thing Beyond wanted – the only thing any child in this orphanage wanted – was to just go home.

His glare must have been enough to clue Watari in on his thoughts of that particular question, for the man's smile disappeared for a moment. Just when he looked like he was going to apologize, Beyond shifted, wrapping his arms around his legs to keep them against his chest. Watari blinked, tilting his head to the side as though he found something odd or amusing, and Beyond wished he could read minds so that he could know what was going on in Watari's head at that moment – know why the man was looking at him like that, as if he was someone else, someone very familiar.

"I like dolls," Beyond spoke suddenly, just so that Watari would stop staring. "Not the plastic kind," he added hurriedly, because he knew when most people heard the word 'doll' they immediately thought of the feminine figurines little girls enjoyed playing with. When Watari cast him a prompting look, Beyond clarified, "straw dolls. The decorative kind. Mum used to make them for my bedroom."

Watari nodded his head in understanding; apparently aware of what Beyond was talking about. "Would you like some dolls for your new room?" he asked.

After a slight hesitation, Beyond nodded his head. Decorating his room at Wammy's House would remind him of his old room back at home, and even though it would depress him because he knew this room could never be his old room, it would also bring a bit of comfort, for right now he had nothing to cling to but painful memories; he figured if he had dolls, he could hold on to them instead, and they wouldn't hurt as much.

"Then tomorrow afternoon we shall go to the store," Watari said, smiling again. "But before we go, there is something you must do for me, Beyond." Beyond's expression turned suspicious and he stared at the man warily. Watari didn't seem to be phased by it. "You must eat the food that Lavender is going to bring to you, get a good night's sleep, and after you eat breakfast in the cafeteria tomorrow morning you must come to my office for there is something else I need to speak with you about. Understand?"

Beyond nodded his head, this time much less enthusiastically, the prospect of having to actually eat an unpleasant one despite the fact that his stomach growled at him for nourishment. "I understand," he whispered.

Watari patted him on the head as if he were a puppy who'd just learned to sit and then stood up, exiting the room silently, leaving Lavender-Lucy and the tray of food she now held in her hands as Beyond's only company.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Beyond ate breakfast in the cafeteria as requested, sandwiched between a brown-skinned girl who wore her hair in high pigtails that she enjoyed swinging back and forth so they would slap him in the side of the face, and a chubby redhead with freckles and snot dripping from his nose. Malaika Fakhir and Jake Henderson. Beyond scarcely picked at his food, unable to calm down enough to do so because of the swish-flick-swishing of Malaika's hair and the sniff-sniffing of Jake's nose. After ten minutes Beyond was gripping his kneecaps with such a force that his knuckles turned white and tears stung his eyes.

"Do you want your cereal?" Jake asked, already reaching for the untouched bowl before given the okay to take it.

Malaika's pigtail flicked against his ear for the thirty-fourth time and Beyond screamed, jumping up from his chair. It fell over and he didn't bother to pick it up because he was already running away, running to the safety of the doors. After running blindly for several seconds, he tripped over his shoelaces and came crashing down onto the wooden floors, his hands just barely managing to dart out in time to break the fall and keep him from hitting his head. Shivering, Beyond slowly bent his neck so that his forehead pressed lightly against the paneling, attempting to regain control of himself. His insides felt as though they were on fire, his lungs burning as he tried to take in deep breaths to calm himself down and stop the tears from leaking out of his eyes.

"Hey – hey, kid, are you all right?"

It was one of the caretakers. Not Lavender-Lucy but Bruce-Benjamin, a boy who looked not even two years out of High School and mainly watched over the younger kids outside, teaching them how to play various sports and games. He approached Beyond, a look of concern on his face, and helped him stand.

"Do you need to go to the nurse?"

Beyond shook his head adamantly. He was fine. Really, he was fine. He could breathe now; he wasn't in that suffocating room any longer. He was fine. "W-Watari," he said, voice soft. "I want to see Watari."

Bruce-Benjamin nodded his head and, once making sure that Beyond was steady on his feet, led him in the direction of Watari's office. "He might not be in there," Bruce-Benjamin explained, taking a key from his pocket and unlocking the door. "But just wait a few minutes; he's never gone long. Do you want me to wait with you?"

"No," Beyond answered quickly. He entered the room, jumping slightly as the door closed loudly behind him.

Watari's office was a large, half-circle shaped room, the back wall of which was lined by windows, displaying a pretty view of the wall of tall trees that served as a barrier between Wammy's House and the rest of the world. In front of the windows was a dark cherry wood desk, on top of which were several stacks of papers, a few books, a telephone, and a single manila envelope.

Curious, Beyond approached the desk. As he got closer, he was able to make out his own name printed neatly atop the folder. He didn't think about this for long, because Watari had requested him to come up to the office after breakfast, after all; there was probably something in the folder Watari wanted to show him.

Shrugging, he turned away from the desk to face a row of bookshelves, unable to make out the titles that Watari's collection consisted of from where he stood and not really caring enough to get any closer to them and find out. Beside the bookshelves was a dark green leather sofa. And on the sofa was something far more interesting than Watari's books and the manila envelope with his name on it...

The most exquisite doll he had ever seen.

Beyond stared at it, his grey eyes wide and alight with wonder.

Slowly, carefully, he padded over to the doll, taking in the soft-looking crop of black hair, the large blue-black eyes that appeared to hold a spark of life despite their otherwise dull and dead quality. The porcelain the doll was crafted from was such good quality, that it almost made the doll appear alive – as if the porcelain was skin. Beyond reached out and touched it, gasping at the warmth that radiated from it. Porcelain was supposed to be cool; this was warm... warm like human flesh.

To his complete surprise, the doll jerked suddenly away from his touch. Shocked (and just a little bit scared) Beyond stumbled back, losing balance and ending up with his rear planted on the ground. He glanced back at the doll, his eyes immediately flying over to the spot above its head, which he hadn't spared a look at earlier, and discovered that this was not a doll, but a boy – a living, breathing boy with a name and a lifespan and skin as pale and smooth as the finest china.

Flushing in embarrassment over his mistake, Beyond looked away again. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

The boy – L Lawliet, Beyond repeated the name in his mind – gazed at him blankly, not saying anything in return. He sat with his legs curled up to his chest, a position that Beyond normally slept in. A finger found its way into L's mouth, and he nibbled on it with a great amount of precision, as if he was carving something out of the nail with his teeth.

"You must be Beyond Birthday," L said after a bout of silence.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Hello, B."

B didn't say anything. He sat on the bed placed in the far corner of the room, his back against the wall and his legs drawn up to his chest, kept firmly in place by his arms which were wrapped tightly around his knees. Hollow grey eyes stared straight ahead, seeing but not seeing at the same time the one who was the reason for his being in this terrible place.

"The doctors said you might not answer me. You haven't spoken for months, after all. But that's okay." L moved across the room slowly, looking around, taking in the drab coloring of the walls and the ratty brown sheets that spilled over the edge of the bed, stained with urine and blood. He was well aware of Beyond's eyes following him as he came to stand beside the bed. "You don't have to say anything," he assured, folding his arms across his chest.

L's eyes roamed over the other's body, taking in the way the plaid pajama bottoms and baggy white t-shirt hung off of his near-skeletal frame. He'd been informed well before deciding to pay Beyond a visit of both his physical and mental conditions. He'd been told Beyond had begun to exhibit Negative symptoms a while back – not speaking, not eating, not even moving more than half the time – but still L hadn't expected to find him like this. Beyond's black hair fell limply in front of his scarily blank eyes; it was dirty, likely not having been washed in more than a week – L could see the buildup of grease from where he stood looking down on the younger man.

"You look terrible," L stated. "I have to admit I'm surprised. I thought you were stronger than this. Braver. I always thought you had more fight in you. After all, it takes guts to do what you tried to do to me."

Beyond's lips twitched, moving slightly. For a moment, L thought he was going to say something, and when he didn't L looked away impatiently.

"You remember what you did?" he asked. "Do you remember, B? It wasn't that long ago now, was it? A year, maybe two, maybe a bit less than that. Remember – remember, B?"

Beyond didn't say anything. L bit down on his bottom lip, trying maintain control of himself, which was difficult considering all he wanted was to lash out at the man before him – this man who got to escape from what he did because of a mental disease, because he could go and hide in his own little world while L had to deal with the memories, while L had to suffer.

"Do you remember, Backup?!"

The name caused Beyond to flinch. L smirked, knowing he'd struck a nerve. Good. If Beyond couldn't pull himself out of his fantasy world to remember what he'd done, L would find other ways of bringing him pain. L wasn't typically a man who sought revenge; his career didn't allow for it – in order to be a detective, he needed to maintain composure and approach each case with a rational and fair mindset. But this was different. This was not a case. This was personal.

"I know you can hear me; you aren't completely lost yet. Answer me, Backup. Answer me."

"G-g...go aw-way."

L shook his head. "You don't mean that. You want me here, Backup. All you've ever wanted was my attention – all you've ever wanted was me."

Beyond trembled on the bed, his arms tightening around his legs. "No... no. L. I want-t L. I don't want y-you. Only L."

"I am L."

"NO!" Beyond cried, one of his arms swiping out to the side with the intent of knocking the other man over. "You're not L, I don't know you I've never seen you before." He turned his head to the side, finally glancing over at L. "It's too bright in here." His voice sounded small, young all of the sudden. "It's too bright, Lavender, I can't see close the blinds."

There were no windows in the room, only a single flickering lamp hanging from the ceiling; the artificial light was nowhere near strong enough to affect Beyond's eyes. What was he talking about? "Where are you, Backup?"

Beyond giggled softly, pressing his mouth against his knee to muffle the sound. "I found a doll. But he's not a doll, he's a boy, but he looks like a doll and I want to collect him."

Lawli: That's all for chapter one. Please let me know what you think of it! Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated!