You may notice that I change from referring to Beyond Birthday as B, BB, or Beyond. B is the name given when the time is set during his time at Wammy's House. BB is the name given during the LABB Murder Case. Beyond is the name after the LABB Murder Case is finished. If the time stated is set during the Wammy's or during the LABB case and the name "Beyond" is used, then it means that Beyond is thinking back about that event later in time. Obviously, the exception is when people are talking to him, when they may call him by any of these names, depending on who they are. Anyway, it's really not important at all, and I only sectioned it up to make things more colourful.

Also, I will be using the anime dates and not the manga ones. Sorry for any inconvenience.

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.

April 2 2000

Winchester

One of the many gifts A had, and perhaps one of the most appealing, was his natural ability to soothe troubled minds with only his presence. Perhaps it was something about his face, his gentle eyes and heart-warming smiles, or possible simply that he emitted a relaxed semblance through his skin. Whatever the cause, he found it no great feat to comfort a sobbing child at the orphanage of Wammy's House, either through want of making them feel better or just to silence them.

D was in no way a new-comer to said orphanage, having spent most of her few years of age behind the Gothic fence that enclosed the occupants like prisoners or animals. However, she was small, and she was fragile, and it didn't want much to reduce her to tears; a flaw that would prevent her from ever being able to achieve the main goal intended for the students. A simple thing like Mother's Day, an event that should mean nothing to the handfuls of parent-less children, had driven her into another one of her fits of hysteria.

Instantly, A had been at her side, kneeling down to her and with a hand on her shoulder. Everyone saw such, and A himself, as the pure description of kindness. He, to them, was innocent and perfect, unable to make a mistake nor carry a single fault. He was practically a saint to some, specifically those who had been distraught at some point and found themselves recovering under his care.

As B watched him with the child, he questioned the sheer blindness of every person to ever have met the so-called saint.

"It's not that they're blind; you can just see more than everyone else." A had told him once, during one of their many confessions of what lay behind the masks they had created and continued to wear. "Your eyes are better." He had teased.

B could understand wanting to hide his true self, but it didn't change the fact that he much preferred the real A than the artificial lie.

There was a high pitched squeaking noise as D wailed, her crying always being at its strongest right before it began to cease. She clenched the shirt of the boy beside her, scrunching it up and smearing it with her facial fluids that she had rubbed onto her hands. "But – I'll – never see them – agaaaaain!" She screeched to him. How he was able to translate was a mystery to the pale-skinned boy who was observing the scene from a safe distance, for he himself had no idea what she was saying even with his vast array of different languages conquered. Yet, somehow A understood, and he shushed her like the mother she was longing for.

"That's not true," he told her, his voice especially soft, "You'll meet again one day in Heaven. That's where they are. They're looking over you even right now." He rubbed some of the salty water off her cheek with his thumb. She looked at him with doubtful eyes in return. "Heaven? What if they aren't? There might not be a Heaven." It was a mumble, but at least it was vaguely understandable to those who couldn't speak Hysteria.

A let out a contended exhale, feeling that the fish had the hook and it would be plain sailing from this point on. "There's a Heaven, and your parents are definitely there. Only kind, good-hearted people go there. There's no crime or fighting; it's just filled with good people. There isn't any pain or sadness, so you shouldn't feel bad for them. They're happy. Everyone is happy. And one day, God will take you there, too, and you'll be together again forever."

"...When?" D rubbed her nose on the back of her sleeve, her face drying more with each word.

"Not yet. Not for a while. But one day you will. I promise."

She let out an awkward laughing sound and picked herself up off the floor, instead throwing herself into the boy's arms for a hug. "Okay, but you have to come too, A! Then it really will be a perfect world!" She released him, a broad smile contradicting her red and puffy eyes, and literally skipped away down the hall, probably looking for Quilish to tell him that she was okay.

A remained in the same position as he watched her go. His shirt stuck to his skin in some places and made him feel sticky.

"I think you gave me cavities." B told him, emerging out from behind the wall where he had been ensconced.

"And that's why you're going to Hell." He grinned in reply.

"That's better than having such a mind-numbing perfect world. How would I keep amused without crime or fighting to entertain me?"

Trying to rub some of the wet off his clothing, A looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Isn't that what what we're trying to eradicate as L?"

B decided not to answer that, instead letting his only friend believe what he wanted to believe, while he did the important thing and went to find him a fresh pair of clothes.

He questioned how anyone could think the act was genuine.

It was annoyingly obvious that A was very much an atheist.

August 22 2005

Los Angeles

Things had gone well so far.

No, it couldn't have been any better.

So many things could have backfired. So many risks could have resulted in failure.

Yet, on the day of the final death, here they both were.

The original and the copy.

Capturing L had been child's play to the extent that it was suspicious. BB had requested his presence at the location of his next kill, and that he should come alone. L had obliged. BB had instructed him to wait for his arrival in the car park under the first floor of the building. L did such. Surely he had been prepared for the assault. There was no way he could have imagined the meeting wouldn't end in being grabbed by two figures in black and being drugged. He must have had a plan ready, and that involved getting into the same room as his successor.

The question was, what was that plan?

No matter. BB understood the detective's move set far too well. Anything he threw could be countered. There was nothing he wasn't prepared for.

Usually he was against working with others, but this particular execution was an exception. Blackmail was a very powerful tool when used correctly, and the choice of helpers had been a wise one. Though just known as a conman and a thief, BB had a way of seeing a person's darker truth, and had no problem exposing it to the world.

His assistants, though not willing to be called such, dumped the unconscious body on the floor of room 404 before returning to their positions just outside the room. For all they knew, this was a simple forced meeting and nothing more. It was for the best that they knew no more of what was planned for the day, even if they may have suspected something more sinister. But what could they do? Their safety was on the line, and the safety of their families in the case of the conman. The best they could do was pray things went well and their temporary boss was happy enough to let them go without trouble after the job was done. He had even promised a large reward for their efforts. Hush money.

The effect of the drugs wouldn't last long. Undressing the unresponsive body had been somewhat easy, but redressing him in a white long sleeved top had been a challenge. It was neither a negative nor positive factor that L had dressed different for the meeting, for once changing his clothing for a black hooded jacket and a slightly less baggy pair of jeans. To be thorough of the switch, every last clothing item had been changed, not stopping at underwear, which actually made the successor feel rather queasy. Still, it was of vital importance to do the job properly. The tiniest detail always gave away the biggest clues.

Things would only become more challenging for this point on.

L was starting to stir. Now fully dressed in his proper attire, there was no more to do buy wait for the fogginess of his brain to clear. Due to the speed his brain usually worked at, it was significantly faster than with any other human being. Then again, classifying him as a human being may have been a stretch. He was more like a computer that was recovering his previous data after unexpectedly losing power.

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...Checking for updates...

He ran a bony hand through his mop of untamed hair as the room spun and twisted in circles. The walls moved around and merged with the floor in seas of colour, blurring up at the worst parts. Whatever had entered his system wasn't something lightweight, even if it had only kept him sleeping for a short time.

Stabling himself with a hand on the floor, L slowly raised his head, as everything started reverting back to its correct state. He groaned a little, as apparently his captor's face was still failing to process properly in his mind. It looked different. Very different.

He waited for the face to change back to normal, to go back to looking like how it was supposed to.

It didn't.

It stayed different.

The face of his successor had changed, and now it had become a perfect copy of his own.

A trick? Some kind of mirror? But there was no frame, no edges of any glass. The man before him wore his clothes, but in exchange, upon looking down for confirmation, his clothing had been altered.

"Do you like it?" The copy asked, pointing to his new appearance. "It's incredible what a good surgeon can do for a little money." A penny here, a penny there. Theft was in no way below him, and it wasn't difficult to handle millions when he knew all the tricks of getting caught, and how to easily avoid them.

"That's impossible. There's no way that was done out of a description." Not good. He couldn't even deny that it was perfect. Every pore was the same as his own. It was terrifying, though he'd never acknowledge that emotion.

Nodding in agreement, BB pulled a small paper from his newly acquired pocket. He had transferred it over from his previous denim, it seemed. He held it with a first finger and thumb by the top, dangling in front of the puzzled detective's face.

It was a photograph.

A photograph of L.

He could have slaughtered his successor right there for the insolence.

"I had more, but I got rid of them. You can have this one." He said, letting it flutter out of his grasp.

"They were... a parting present from A. he always was good with a camera, but I was impressed he managed to get so many without being caught."

He had done well. L's visits to the orphanage were so scarce that the occupants struggled to get a glance at him. To get multiple pictures from every angle couldn't have been an easy feat.

He truly had been incredible.

There was no time for this. It as clear what was planned, and there was only so much time before the fourth murder would take place. L had organized, excusing the pun, back-up, but BB would have help of his own, and his own set of watchful eyes. He had to be discreet, and them meant not summoning them until the time was right Acting too soon would cost him his life.

L's eyes scanned every inch of the room. The door handle was waist-height, he noted, and the Wara Ningyo had already been nailed on the wall directly across from it. Interesting.

Ignoring the previous subject, he showed no signs of alarm. "A pulley system." He said, indicating to the doll nailed into the wall. "You wrap the thread around the nail head and... But it requires two nails. You only have one. Which means you need another way of locking the door." A flaw in his last murder scene, perhaps? No, to even hope for that was nonsense.

"Manually." The killer explained, coolly.

"But the door is locked from the inside. In order to lock me in to kill me, you would also have to be inside with me." There were no windows to jump out from, and that would be far too obvious. There was the possibility of going into the next room, but that was also a terrible move.

"Yes, that would be right." BB made himself comfortable by sitting in the characteristic crouched position in a chair across the room, directly facing L. "But I'm not going to kill you. You're going to kill yourself."

A scoff in response.

"Don't deny it, Lawliet. You know you've been thinking about it. You know you've considered it yourself." Man in question narrowed his eyes. His face had been revealed, stolen, and now his name was being flung around. It was hardly a good day.

"You're tired. I can see it in you. You need this. You need to be beaten, just once. Then you can rest, can't you? You just need this one failure, then you can finally stop this..."

"No. I don't. Don't delude yourself into thinking I'm in pain."

"Who's deluding themselves, me or you? I know you better than you do."

"Creating an artificial image of me that isn't true-"

"Is it, Lawliet? Is it really artificial? Is it fake?"

He was smiling. This was pleasing him. He had wanted this for so long, and it felt just as amazing as he had dreamed...

"The fact that you believe I would die over this should be your answer."

BB shook he head and laughed, just a little.

"This was just to make it easier for you." He said. "Tell me, Lawliet, do you remember your first case? It was to stop a war, if I'm not wrong." An involuntary shiver shot through the detective's spine. "That was brave of you. War is such a dreadful thing. The fighting, the fear, the death... Especially the bombs. So destructive..."

The urge to vomit was suddenly the most prominent thing in the world.

No.

No, no, no, no.

That's not possible.

He wasn't implying it. He couldn't be.

"Back-up..." He spat the name through gritted teeth. BB was anything but pleased to be called by such a lowly title, but striking a nerve was too much of a victory for his mood to be ruined.

"I thought, just a little something to wipe out Winchester would be enough- I know how you love it there- but I wouldn't be surprised to find much, much more receives damage as well. Then there's the matter of the survivors... They won't be happy to have a sudden bomb dropped on their country. An accusation or two really does a lot..."

L was not naturally aggressive, but it was only the knowledge that his successor was asking for it that kept him from ripping his throat to pieces.

It had to be a bluff. He couldn't have done this much.

"You're lying."

"Is that really a risk you want to take?"

Damn him.

Damn him!

Doing all this for a title... For the position of the World's Greatest Detective... There was no way such a deranged man could have that much power. The fact that he had even got together the money for facial reconstruction was incredible. He couldn't have actually gone as far as to...

"The clock is ticking. If you willingly follow my orders, I'll immediately prevent the launch. However, should you refuse.." He held out a clenched fist, keeping it closed for a few seconds, then opened up his palm and made a "poof" noise.

"I may have even set up a few rumours about you to go with the attack. Do you feel popular, Lawliet? Millions will be talking about you, soon."

This was too much. He had overdone it. There was no bomb. He was definitely lying. There was no need to freak out over a few scary words. That was fine... Now, he had to make sure that BB was out of the way before he really did do something insane. Like his successor, L had also taken the time to arrange a few things, but due to the fact that his required precise timing, they required an activation signal instead of a cancellation signal. For one, there was to be a SWAT team sent in, should the cell phone L was carrying be activated.

This phone was in the pockets of the jeans BB wore.

That wasn't a problem.

Doing his best to act defeated, which he had never before had to pretend to feel, L stared down at his toes. "...There's a SWAT team due in here in under three minutes. I suggest you stop that. They arrive if my phone is left inactivated for more than an hour."

Shrugging, he fished the red mobile out of his pocket, and threw it across to L, seemingly not caring at all what did or didn't happen. He was enjoying himself far too much, being so arrogant.

L felt a wonderful sense of self satisfaction as the familiar glow of the screen lit up, revealing a new message. These games had gone on for far long enough. This was to be their last battle. This was the end to the war between the original and the back-up, after all these years. Yes, he would have hoped for it to have ended differently. Perhaps, in another life, things would have worked out differently. But not this time.

...New message?

But the phone was just to be used for the SWAT team. Who had gotten the number? Even Watari didn't know he had it.

How had...

...

"...Beyond..."

Boy in question hummed back.

"...You should go."

"What? Is there a problem?"

"There's no problem."

Suddenly, L's satisfaction had left him. His voice was quiet, but he didn't sound uncertain of what he was saying. His eyes were blank and dead, the shine dulled completely out. He wore his head low, and his shoulders seemed to weigh him down more than ever, like he had never noticed how heavy it was to carry himself until right in that moment. In those few seconds, he had felt the pain of a thousand burdens that he had carried without struggle crashing down on him, suffocating him.

He wasn't being his patient, calm self. No sooner had BB risen from his seat was he being thrust towards the door. It was so unlike him... There had to be something he was planning. Some trick he thought he could fool the younger man with by acting as though he was going to go through with killing himself. But he was making it so obvious. The acting was so sloppy. Why wasn't he trying to be more convincing?

No, it doesn't matter. Whatever he's planning, I can counter it. I won't let him beat me. Not when I've come this far. He'll probably see through the bomb lie, but that's fine. I have plenty more where that came from. The worst he can do is be summoning some kind of back-up, but I have no problem with any of it. I can't fall now. I won't fall now.

A's goal was in sight.

He had to complete his task.

Those cold eyes stared at him, waiting, pleading for him to step outside of the room. There was something he had to do on his own.

"Be sure to lock the door tightly."

There was no way he was going to go through with it, but there was no harm in humouring him. Despite having heard him, the detective gave no definitive response.

"Goodbye, L Lawliet."

It was actually rather disappointing to have such an anti-dramatic farewell. He had even avoided the opportunity to call him "back-up" one last time before closing the door and clicking the lock in place, as instructed.

"Goodbye."

August 23 2005

"...Yesterday, the fourth murder of the Wara Ningyo Murder case took place..."

"...The victim was Ryuzaki Rue..."

"...Private detective working on the case..."

"...The victim was found alive, but died moments later from the serve burns..."

The media were going crazy over it. News stations covered the story over and over, talk shows discussed it like cheap gossip, and there was even rumours of a movie being made. It was apparently going to be a romance.

How disgusting.

Beyond could not pretend to be entirely satisfied.

He had been waiting for L's next move. He had been waiting for a random undercover cop to grab him and lock his hands in handcuffs. He hadn't anticipated that L would die so easily. It was... sad. His whole life had become dedicated to that one moment, and the truth be told, he wasn't expecting it to go so advantageously. It had been too easy.

Had the bomb threat really been enough?

Not only that, but there was the trouble with his numbers...

Naomi Misora had been a good choice She was a wonderful pawn on L's part. However, her intelligence was something Beyond needed to use for to his advantage. And so, he had willingly confessed that he knew she could do capoeira, despite her never having told him.

His intention, though not obvious to her, was to make her catch him while he was burning. He wanted her to save him. Or, he wanted her to save the man who was burning to death.

L Lawliet's lifespan was not supposed to run out for a few more years.

So, it seemed like an interesting idea to let him experience the very place he sent so many criminals to in his career, and have his remaining time spent rotting in a jail cell.

Naomi would realise that the fourth murder as a suicide, and that Ryuzaki Rue was the killer. She would run down the stairs and find the "killer" burning to death. She would save him. He would be put on trial, seen as guilty, and receive a life imprisonment.

Except for the fact that he had died before his lifespan ended.

When BB had killed his three victims, their lives also were cut short before their time- incidentally, only by a number of hours, or at the most, days. Did suicide run under the same principal? When A had killed himself, he, too, had an unexpected death...

But Beyond had seen lots of suicides that met the end of a lifespan from the media. From all the suicide victims he had seen the faces of, A and L were the only two who didn't follow their numbers. What was the connection?

Watari, or known previously as Quilish Whammy, interrupted those thoughts by bringing a cup of freshly made tea and a bowl of sugar cubes. He had left the man who he believed to be his surrogate son mostly in peace since finding him watching the ambulance carry away the charred body the previous day. He felt it best to let him grieve in peace, but was sure to emphasize that he wasn't going anywhere, should he be needed.

Fooling Watari, the man who had raised L since he was eight years old, had been the ultimate hurdle.

And, of course, he had failed.

There were some things even the World's Greatest Criminal could not achieve.

But, Watari did not make a fuss over it. He was not positive of the replacement. He only suspected it, and had no intention of acting on it until he was certain. It could easily have been that L was acting differently due to the shock the previous day had caused. Being brash would do no good.

...That is what he told himself, anyway.

Maybe the truth was that, replacement or not, he was weaker than he believed himself to be when it came to the detective. If he could confirm that he really was Beyond Birthday, what would he do?

There was a need for the truth, but at the same time, he didn't want the arduous answer.

Briefly, Beyond considered the idea that the message on his phone had been what had triggered the strange behaviour in the detective moments before his death, but quickly dismissed it. Surely what it had contained would upset him, but nothing that could have driven him to lean closer towards pouring the gasoline that had been provided over himself and burning himself to a chrisp.

L's real phone had been switched with a fake by the thief while the conman had held his unconscious body. They were the same name and colour, but it wouldn't have been hard to tell the difference if he had time to fully observe the two, side by side. Thankfully, he had the object in his sight for only a few seconds. Replacing it with an identical phone had been ambitious, since there was no way of telling what kind of cell phone he would have. The best Beyond could do was imagine what it would look like if he were to chose a phone himself, and hope for the best. His estimate had been spot on.

While unconscious, using a third phone, the thief had sent a text message to the fake phone while the two men had been talking. Of course, this phone was not turned on, and the vibration was off, so there had been no way of knowing it had arrived.

The message she was ordered to send consisted of a single letter. It explained the motives behind the LABB Murder Cases better than any biography or detailed book could.

A.

The one it had all happened for.

Beyond had been expecting more than a few tricks up his sleeves, but all he had to do was imagine where he could plant them if he were L himself, and use that to figure out what they were and their location.

A cell phone. Easy to hide in a pocket, but he had to be something that he could do without looking. Calling a number would be too difficult if he were being watched or attacked, so it had to be something simple like turning it on. What he had said could have been true, and there could have been a force of men destined to arrive if the phone was left untouched for a certain period of time, but... It seemed more likely to be the other way around.

Second was a belt buckle. The buckle was loose, Beyond noted, when he changed their clothing. Most likely another device.

He had been prepared for wire tabs, but L had either been feeling cocky enough that he wouldn't need them, or afraid that they would cause him trouble.

Among with few other precautions, there had, slipped inside the jacket in a specially made pocket, been a loaded gun.

The purpose of it was a mystery with many possible theories.

2006

Location Unknown

"Watari," Beyond called, stirring his sugar with added tea together in an attempt to make them mix into something more than a crunchy, wet sludge. "How do you feel about a change of location?"

The Englishman had been expecting this repeat of pattern. L, and therefore Beyond, had always been like this, spending weeks to months in one place before picking somewhere completely new and making himself comfortable there. Had there been any major cases on, he would often reside in the country of its origin or one nearby; it made getting to the news channels more simple. However, nothing had particularly caught his attention in any destined country, and instead his cases had been spread of to many less interesting crimes all over the world. Nothing was worth a visit. Therefore, now sick of repeating hotels, he was free to go to any place that caught his eye, an opportunity that some would kill for (and in one of the cases ongoing at the time, they actually had).

Sometimes he would spin a globe and place his finger on a random country, or other times he would pick the birthplace of the next person he saw in a newspaper.

This time, however, he actually felt a need to go somewhere for the culture, and not simply for a change of scenery or a case.

Japan had always been a place of fascination to Beyond, and it seemed like a good time to go, with nothing else to in particular to do.

Thank you so much for reading, and I'm extremely sorry for any dissatisfaction this story caused.