Note: Any opinions and/or viewpoints expressed in this are not necessarily my own, as they are written in the perspective of the individual characters. Also, Fanfiction ate some of my linebreaks, so I apologize about that.

Not long ago you'd find the answers were so crystal clear
Within a day you find yourself living in constant fear
Can you look at yourself now?
Can you look at yourself?
You can't win this fight.

~Welcome To The Family, Avenged Sevenfold

It was a bright light. White. That was the colour of the walls.

L's arm throbbed, hurt so much so much, and oh god he was raped, Beyond Birthday was gone, and he was locked in his cell. Locked in this cell. He had to get out.

He was lying on a bed. There was something on his face. He realized it must have been Beyond's mask.

Oh. Damn. They must think that L is. That L is.

Fuck.

A voice came from the corner of the room. "He's waking up."

The voice belonged to a man in a nurse's outfit, his white jacket fitting loosely and unbuttoned around his shoulders. "Beyond Birthday, do you know where you are?"

L struggled to focus. No, they were all wrong. Beyond Birthday had escaped; they were wasting time.

"I'm not Beyond Birthday." L's voice sounded foreign to himself, scratchy, like it didn't even belong to him.

"You're in a state of shock. Please stay calm."

L was not in a good state of mind, and he was already frustrated, his brain swarming with anxiety and panic. Beyond needed to be caught now.

"You don't understand," he protested, struggling to sit upright. "I'm not Beyond Birthday. I'm Tyler Wincox. I'm the one who came to visit Beyond. Take off the mask."

The two nurses in the room stared at him as though they weren't sure what to do.

God dammit, they needed to take off the mask, because if they didn't take off the mask, he would be stuck in here, and Beyond Birthday would be on the loose, and he would do something absolutely horrible, and then—oh, wait. L could remove the mask himself. Even though he hurt like both of them were, only one of his arms was broken.

He was only very slowly regaining the ability to think straight, to become aware of his surroundings, and it was with impatience that he pulled off the facial mask.

After a moment of staring, eyes searching for scars that were not there, the doctor took a few steps toward him. At first, he didn't say anything. His baffled expression spoke volumes. "Is Beyond the one who raped you?"

L flinched, remembered the overpowering sense of helplessness and fear as he was pounded into the cold, hard ground.

(Defeated, he was so defeated; Beyond had owned him.)

Humiliation.

The flinch was all the answer the doctor needed. "If you give us the phone number, we will contact your immediate family and have you sent to a proper hospital."

L didn't want that. He needed to contact Watari. Yes, that was first.

"My phone is with the receptionist. I would appreciate it if you would retrieve it for me."

The program was perfect. It was perfect.

With this wonderful piece of software, Beyond would be able to know the exact moment L contacted the California police force, and, when he did, he would be ready. Ready to cause a crisis. To cause confusion.

He would act as L.

(I'll steal your identity, I'll steal your name, I'll steal all of you, my precious, precious Lawliet.)

The program would alert him immediately of L's virtual presence in the police station, and that would be his cue to go. L would try to hack him back to regain control, but, by then, they'd have no idea who was the real L. They would be identical.

Beyond just needed to wait. Wait for L to get out. Wait for L to put all of his efforts into finding him.

(It was right that he was L's first priority. L should always pay attention to him. Beyond deserved to be the most important person in L's life.)

And this plan was so, so perfect.

It hadn't taken long for Watari to put a sling on his broken arm. L hurt all over; it was as though every inch of his body was in pain, like Beyond had broken all of him.

L stared at his computer monitor, dully. There was something important he should be doing, something that wasn't sitting here sulking.

(But he had a right to be upset. Beyond had owned him. L had belonged to Beyond.)

No. That didn't matter. What did matter was catching him.

(Oh. So that's what he was supposed to be doing.)

Watari was concerned about him—it was obvious—and he probably had a right to be, but it was unnecessary. L was fine. Fine fine fine.

(L knew he shouldn't lie to himself, but he couldn't help it. He was too good at lying not to be fooled.)

Focus. He needed to focus. He should be contacting the police and telling them what to look out for. Beyond was dangerous, and he had to be caught before he could do something horrible.

(He's already done something horrible. You can't stop him. You'll see.)

L couldn't afford to doubt himself—not now, not ever. If he started to doubt himself, people could get hurt.

(They already have.)

L would win this. He was always right.

(Then why do you feel like you've already lost?)

Beyond was lying in a bed waiting when he received the alert informing him that L was contacting the police.

Showtime.

Beyond hopped off the bed and knelt down on the floor, where the laptop was. This safehouse was something he had set up for himself all the way back in LABB, and he was very pleased that everything was in order.

Not just in order. Perfect.

He couldn't hear what L was saying to the police, but he could override the signal. He could pretend to be L.

"This is L," L said, into the voice filter. "A very dangerous man has very recently escaped from mental prison. It is imperative that he is caught—"

Suddenly, the line crackled, and his computer screen began filling up with error messages.

"This is L," Beyond said, into the microphone. "There is someone posing as me. You must not under any circumstances listen to what he says. He has hacked into my system and is trying to wreak havoc."

"What are you talking about?" one of the officers said. "There...there was another L talking to us. Are you saying that he's fake?"

Beyond grinned, sick and sweet.

Yes yes yes yes.

"That is correct."

"Somebody is hacking into my communication line," L said, to Watari. "They're overriding me."

"Is there something that you can do?"

"I'm working on re-connecting my signal right now."

"What is the fake L trying to do?" one cop asked. "Who is he?"

"I don't know who he is, yet," Beyond replied, "but I have been attempting to catch him for the past several hours. He has been evading me, and is very intelligent. I need you to not believe a word he says. He could hack me back at any—"

"This is L," L said, once again, having counter-hacked whoever was hacking him. "It is my understanding that there might be someone also contacting your police station from this line, possibly even acting as me. If this is the case, I need you to inform me of it immediately."

No one said anything for a long moment. "We know that you aren't the real L."

Oh. So that's what was happening.

(L had no proof, but he knew it knew it knew it.)

Beyond.

The name popped into his head, because it must be. The timing was perfect, and it was just like Beyond to attack him like this. This was something Beyond would do.

L could deal with this. He really could.

(Not that he wanted to.)

Beyond was making a mess of everything. But, L was still in control.

Still in control. Yes, that's right—L was always in control. Always.

(Beyond had owned him.)

That didn't matter. That had been a mistake, a failure that was not to be repeated.

(He owned you he owned you he owned you he owned you he owned you)

(God dammit SHUT UP)

"No," L said, "I am the real L. You mustn't believe him."

Beyond managed to once again gain control of the computer system, cutting off L and whatever he had been saying. He didn't know what it was—he couldn't hear anything from within the police station when L was in control, and vice versa.

"He hacked me, but I hacked him back. I apologize for that."

"L, how do we know that you aren't the fake one? That's what he was claiming."

"He is only claiming that because it is the most logical thing to do. Unfortunately, there is no proof to be offered at this time, but you are going to have to simply trust me, and the matter will be resolved. You are to—"

God dammit, L was not up for a hacking match right now. He only had one good arm to type with, so he was only going as fast as he was able. It wasn't very fast.

(Beyond was hacking him faster than he could keep up.)

"I need for you to inform me of what the other L is saying," L demanded, calmly.

"How do we know if we can trust you?" the chief of police asked.

L couldn't answer that. The very enigmatic nature of the detective L made proving his identity very difficult, even impossible. It wasn't as though he could use face to face communication.

It was astounding that he hadn't faced a situation like this sooner. In hindsight, it seemed inevitable.

He was silent for a long enough time that Beyond regained control without L even saying anything.

"This is L. There is something I need for you to do."

The chief of police took a hesitant step forward. "We...aren't sure which of you is the real L," he admitted. "We are reluctant to trust either of you."

Of course. That made sense. Beyond had expected this, had wanted it. Everything was running smoothly.

(Beyond was brilliant brilliant brilliant, and his precious Lawliet would see that, would always always know that.)

"That's understandable," Beyond said, "and I do not blame you for not trusting me. But, I need you to do something that is very important in catching the other L. Do you think you can do that, even without putting your full trust in me?"

Silence.

Then, very slowly, "We'll do what we can."

"Alright, what I need for you to do is to act as though you believe that the fake L is the real L," Beyond instructed. "Keep him on the line for as long as possible, so that you can trace his signal. As soon as you do, I am going to shut him down."

"There is no proof I can offer at this time that will prove exactly who I am," L said. "But, it would be to your benefit and mine if you believed me. I aim to catch the one who is doing this."

"What do you need us to do, L?"

"Trace him. The next time he comes on, try to keep him on the line for as long as possible."

"Alright." The chief looked as though he wasn't sure what to say. "...Are you certain that you don't know who he is?"

(Something's wrong.)

"Fairly certain," L lied, "though I will know very shortly. And, with your help, I will find him and put a stop to his actions quickly."

"What will you do with him?"

(They were stalling. Why, why, why were they stalling?)

Oh. Hell.

A deduction snapped into his mind like a piece in a jigsaw puzzle. The police believed Beyond, and Beyond was having them attempt to trace him. Obviously, L couldn't just let that happen. Immediately, without another word, L cut off all of his communication lines.

Beyond knew what he had to do now. He needed to contact Redd, a master hacker back at Wammy's House who owed him a favour. He would be able to hack into L's database, even with the limited information that the police had been able to provide.

And then. And then.

(I'll have all your aliases I'll ruin you you'll be mine)

He sent a message to R, knowing that he would receive it likely within minutes.

Damn him damn him damn him damn him, screwing with him like that. When Beyond was caught, L would make sure that he regretted every minute of this. He would, he would...

No, he needed to calm down. He needed to think about this with a clear mind. If he didn't think about this rationally, he would begin to get sloppy, and then Beyond would get to him yet again. He needed to not get upset, regardless of Beyond's actions. He ought to make a tower out of cream cups. That usually helped him to think.

He must not get any more upset than he already was.

(L's broken body was representative of his dignity and confidence.)

The more he dealt with this case—with this awful, awful game—using his head, the better off he would be. He would get nowhere by acting impulsively on what he was feeling.

(Never had, never will.)

Regardless, L couldn't help but feel that this point had gone to Beyond.

As expected, Beyond received a reply back from R within a very short amount of time.

"What do you need me to help you with?"

Beyond emailed back, "I need you to get information off of a computer. A list of names."

The response was almost instantaneous. "Just get me the information, and I'll do it."

L had to make the next point. He was determined. If Beyond was making all the points, L would lose. Lose this entire game. And that was. That wasn't something that L would allow to happen. He could not lose, because he never loses. What happened back at the asylum was an isolated occurrence. It would not happen again.

(It already was.)

L poked at his cake, disinterest evident in his actions. Watari observed him quietly.

"L," he said, finally, "you really should eat. Are you feeling well?"

The words seemed to break something in L's composure, the stress threatening to crush him, threatening to bury him alive.

"Of course I'm not 'well,'" L snapped. "Beyond is on the loose, I am being threatened, my physical condition can hardly be considered functional, everyone in the city is in a state of potential danger, and I can't help them, because I am struggling to even help myself. I am not well, Watari, and that is a ridiculous thought."

Watari fell silent, and almost instantly, L felt a small twinge of guilt for blowing up at him. The man had been nothing but supportive of him since this whole thing had started. Before that, even. The stress was getting to his head, was starting to affect his actions. He should not be losing his composure like this.

L took a deep breath and ran his tongue absently over the gash on his lip, where his teeth had gnashed in response to Beyond breaking his hand. "I apologize," L said, bringing down the volume of his voice significantly, "I am simply doing my best. I understand that you are concerned, and you have a right to be. But, I require your assistance, so I ask that you do the same."

Before Watari could respond, a message blipped across the middle of L's computer screen. It was a black banner, with white text that read, "Data Transfer Complete."

L completely froze in his tracks, his blood instantly becoming like ice. It felt as though his heart stopped beating altogether.

This was. This was not right.

His hard drive should not be transferring data at all. This was not his doing, so it must be someone else. Beyond, maybe. But Beyond didn't have the hacking skills that were needed in order to hack L's personal laptop. At least, he shouldn't. But this. This wasn't what he should be worrying about. Someone had just hacked into his hard drive, and that had the potential to destroy him. Destroy his name, destroy everything that he's worked toward his whole life, since he was eight.

Near panic, L's mind raced.

| 1 / 1 / 2 / 3 / 1 / 2 / 4 |

R tapped a rhythm on the desk, his hand picking up the vibrations but his ears deaf to the sound. His ears were deaf to everything, though.

(Not that he desired anything different. He couldn't imagine living in a world that was anything less than soundless.)

He watched as the data from L's hard drive piled on to his computer screen, file after file. It was a lot to scroll through.

| 2 / 2 / 5 / 4 / 1 / 3 |

With his tongue, he twirled the wooden toothpick onto the other side of his mouth and chewed on it, mindlessly. He had nothing against L in particular, but he supposed that Beyond did, and he owed Beyond his life. He had no choice but to carry out any task that Beyond requested of him.

He didn't really mind. Beyond didn't ask things of him very often.

| 2 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 5 / 5 / 4 |

Redd shot off an email to B.

"Have the data. Should I send now?"

He pushed his artificially bright-red hair out of his face. He usually had it pulled back in a short ponytail; where was that damn elastic?

| 3 / 3 / 4 / 3 / 2 |

"Yes." The response came within seconds. It was as if Beyond was just sitting around waiting at the computer.

(Probably was.)

R chewed more on his toothpick.

"W/e you say."

| 2 / 2 / 4 / 3 / 2 / 4 / 5 |

While his skills maybe surpassed that of an ordinary person, L was not the greatest hacker out there. Not even close to it, really. And, because his hacking skills were so limited, he was unable to figure out how—if at all possible—he could recall whatever information the hacker had ripped from his computer. It was entirely too late, anyway. What's done is done.

There was no fixing this mistake. This utter failure to prevent disaster.

Depending on how the hacker decided to use this information, L could be ruined. That laptop had all of his cases, all of his many detective handles, his aliases.

There was a high chance that Beyond had something to do with this. That Beyond was the cause of all of this, somehow. Even if he didn't have the skills that would be required to pull this off, it was entirely possible that he wasn't working alone. The other factor...what could it be, and who?

The file arrived within fifteen minutes of Redd sending it. It was a large file, so it was natural for it to have taken such a long time.

(The world was his. His possession, his world.)

(His detective his detective—)

All of L's aliases, all of L's detective handles—everything Beyond had ever dreamed of having, and so much more—they were all at the scarred tips of his burned fingers. They were all his to use in his brilliant, brilliant plan.

He needed to contact the police to put it into action.

He brought up the communication line between him and the station, the list of all of L's different identities right up in front of him.

"This is L," he said, putting all of the names into an email. "I have discovered, in my search for the hacker, an alarming number of supposedly individual detectives who have all turned out to be the exact same person, and are not to be trusted. I have reason to believe that this person's evidence is corrupt and inaccurate, fabricated only for monetary benefits. I am emailing you the list of names as we speak."

"L..." Watari's voice was grim, and L immediately braced himself for the worst.

"What is it, Watari?" L pressed his lips tightly together.

"I'm...afraid I have received some very regrettable news from our sources within the police station."

No.

L didn't even know what it was, yet, and already dread was set in his heart like stone.

"And what news would that be?" L asked, but he would have rather died than be forced to listen to Watari's answer. He really didn't want to know, but he had to. He was L.

"It seems that Beyond has acquired a list of your aliases, and has sent them to the police. For all intents and purposes, they have been rendered useless."

Watari was standing a generous distance away, giving L a considerate amount of space while he processed this new set of information.

The only outward, noticeable reaction L displayed was the clenching of his teeth and the tensing of his body. After a moment or two, L, his tone deceptively calm and even in a way Watari knew was far from the way he was actually feeling, said, "Thank you, Watari. I understand."

(L wondered if this was how it felt to die.)

Beyond laughed. This was perfect, so perfect. Not to mention fun. Definitely fun. He was beating L in his own element, was beating him at his own game—further proof that Beyond was without a doubt the superior one. Everything that L was, Beyond was better. L was brilliant, but Beyond was smarter. L was always one step ahead of everyone else, but Beyond was always one step ahead of L. L was beautiful, but Beyond was perfect.

Beyond was perfect, and he deserved for L to always pay attention to him. Beyond wanted L to be as obsessed with him as he was with L. He wanted to be the only thing in L's life that was worth thinking about every minute of every day.

And he would be. By the time B was through with him, L would hardly be able to believe that he had ever managed to live a life that Beyond wasn't at the center of.

Beyond would make sure that L would always remember.

L sat in the hotel chair, contemplating his next course of action. He was tired, so, so tired, but he could not afford to rest. Beyond could do something else—something new and just as horrible—at any moment. Something more disastrous than anything else he's done yet.

(Just wait and see. It will be a wonderful show.)

You won't be disappointed.

As if on cue, L's computer beeped—an indication that he had received a new email.

The email was from an automated source. An automated source that only the most important people throughout the entire world would receive.

An email that could only mean that the security of the entire nation was under threat.

Beyond grinned, gleefully. As L, he could do practically anything he wanted. Control the world's police. Bring the world to its knees, or bring it to the brink of war.

Bring it to the brink of war. Which happened to be exactly what he was doing.

His plan was beautiful.

(But, not as beautiful as L would be once he reacted.)

Considering who he was, or supposedly was, it was easy enough to convince the nation's leaders that Germany was creating nuclear warheads, breaking the Nuclear Proliferation Treaty. It was like the Cuban Missile Crisis all over again. Now all he had to do was wait for L to make his move.

L could not let this continue. This was beyond just him now. Beyond's actions were now affecting the entire world, and L could absolutely not let it continue. He could not even let it continue for long enough to come up with some other alternative plan. Protecting the world from lapsing into a third world war was more important than protecting himself.

Immediate action needed to be taken, and the first priority was the state of the world.

Before he did this, though, there were people who needed to be informed. With a deep breath, L took out his cell phone and dialed Roger's number.

Roger didn't understand why L was calling him. L never called, never involved him in anything, unless it was an absolute emergency. Something must be very, very wrong for L to be contacting him like this.

He flipped open his phone. "This is Roger."

L wasted no time in getting straight to the point. "Beyond Birthday has escaped from mental prison and is now using my name to deceive officials into believing that Germany is harbouring nuclear weapons. Many nations have gone into crisis mode. I am not currently in control of my alias, and there is only one option I have in order to prevent utter disaster."

Roger was silent for a minute, processing this. One thing that L could do...surely he didn't mean...

No, he couldn't.

"You don't mean..." Roger started, but he couldn't get the words out. He didn't want to. Luckily, L didn't need him to finish.

"Yes," L said, and Roger's heart felt like it was on the dirty, dirty ground. "I am going to use the code that will permanently put an end to the detective known as L. In doing so, I am essentially destroying my career."

Roger wondered how difficult it was for L to be telling him this right now. He wondered how the children were going to take this, and how they were going to deal with it.

"Is that it, then?" Roger asked, feeling like the future was flying away from him, even though it wasn't his future to have. "What will I tell the children?"

"Tell them whatever you feel you need to. You may be the judge of how much or how little they should be allowed to know."

"But, L. What will happen? I won't be able to answer all of their questions. You haven't given me enough information."

"That is all I will tell you at this moment in time. I will do my best to keep you informed of the situation if it changes sometime in either the near or distant future."

"But, L—"

And, just like that, L hung up the phone.

Roger sat back in his chair and massaged his temples. It was at times like these that he wished this responsibility belonged to someone else.

L had set up this so-described "self-destruct button" back when his career was just starting to pick up off the ground. Honestly, he had never anticipated that there would come a day that he would actually have to use it. Those were the days when he was completely confident in his abilities, back when he was untouchable. That felt like so long ago.

(Really, it's been less than a few days.)

He could feel Watari's eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. He wondered if Watari was disappointed in him. It didn't really matter, though. He was doing what had to be done, just like he'd been doing his entire life.

"Watari, would you—" but then he stopped, because this was really something that he should be doing on his own. "Never mind, I'll do it myself."

L turned to his computer and brought up his internet browser. He clicked on the address bar and glared at the blinking cursor as though it had done something wrong. There was an entire website designed for only this purpose, and it was password protected and difficult to get to. In a perfect world, L would never have had to visit it at all.

He slowly began to type in "L-7kr9sd4kjdfe65. com" and hit the enter key. It brought him to a completely dark page with a password bar in the very center. The password was needed just to enter the site.

It consisted of nonsense letters and numbers, much like the website name, and L typed it in. The site accepted the password and sent him to a similar-looking page, only there were large white letters above the password bar that read the word "Terminate".

The password for that was only three letters long. Three simple, simple letters, and then everything would be over.

(The world couldn't afford to wait.)

L would do what he had to do to protect the world, because he was L and that was just what L did, and it was with that in mind that he typed in the first letter of the password.

E.

Typing it didn't feel as bad as he had thought it would, so it was with determination that he typed the second letter.

L.

There was only one letter left, and suddenly it made L feel like everything was collapsing around him. It was as though there was a tide trying to drag him under.

H.

And, it was that, that simple keystroke, that tied a knot in L's stomach and made him feel ill.

He just needed to strike the enter key. That was all.

(L wanted to die. He wanted to die.)

But, L was strong, was always strong. And, this is what he needed to do.

So.

He struck enter, and everything important to him in his life seemed to die with it.

Beyond sat in the room, answering questions from officials about the German nuclear crisis while awaiting L's next move.

He was just about to send his reply when he received an email response to something he had sent earlier. He clicked it open.

L—

We have received an alert stating that all orders and information currently received from you are to be rendered corrupted and obsolete. You are to be immediately disregarded, and we will be taking no more orders from you in the future.

Beyond laughed and laughed.

L sat in his chair, toes twitching, as he focused on just breathing and keeping himself under control. He needed to remain calm no matter what, because his composure was the last damn thing he had right now, and he refused to lose that as well. Not after everything else. Not after everything else.

But, he felt like he might be about to just completely lose it, and he didn't want anyone to witness it if he did. So.

"Watari," he said, quietly, "I would like to be left alone right now."

"Of course," Watari said, understandingly. Without another word, he quietly left the room just in time to miss the phone ringing.

It was the hotel phone, and L picked it up, hesitantly. Before speaking, he cleared his throat. He didn't really trust anything at the moment, and even his voice could betray him.

"Hello?"

"It's nice to hear your voice again, Lawliet."

L wasn't talking, but that was okay, because he would still be listening. There's no way he wouldn't be listening.

(Beyond had L's undivided attention.)

"Are you having a nice day?" Beyond asked, conversationally. He twirled the phone's cord around his fingers. "I heard something about a near World War III. Did you know about it?"

Normally, L would have jumped up and taken the opportunity to triangulate the call and figure out Beyond's location. Today, however, wasn't a normal day, and L promptly hung up on him.

L stared at the phone in his hand, observing all of the details of it as though it was the most interesting thing ever. It was black, and had a cord, and was slowly being gripped tighter and tighter by his fingers as he was quietly shoved over the edge. It didn't actually have much of a chance, really.

Slowly, delicately, L smashed it against the ground with enough force to break it.

His logic immediately rushed to his side in an attempt to shield him from the influence of his emotions.

This will do nothing, he told himself. It will not help a single thing.

He knew it couldn't stop him, though. He knew himself, and he knew he had just snapped.

He was beyond logic, he was beyond reason, and there was nothing that could stop him from calmly lifting up his laptop with his good hand and slamming it to the floor, shattering it into countless pieces.

Any breakable object in the room was fair game, and L made sure to destroy all of it. His movements, however, were all very slow and deliberate, almost calculated. It was a far cry from appearing to be mindless violence, though that's exactly what it was.

The television went, and the decorative vase went. So did his plate and his empty teacups.

Nothing was organized and nothing was right, and all L could think about was how much he felt like a mental patient who had just had a fit. It was a dark, dark place, and it was only getting colder. He knew he had to find a way out before it consumed him entirely.

There was nothing in the room left to break, and as he surveyed all the damage he'd caused, L began to feel kind of pathetic. Pathetic for losing. Pathetic for resorting to this.

He felt the need to hit something, because he was still so so frustrated and he wasn't really thinking clearly. Acting on instinct alone, he leaned his back up against the wall and began hitting his fist against it, repeatedly. He didn't even stop when his knuckles began to ache, when they began to scream loudly in protest.

(Beyond owns you, and there's nothing you can really do about it anymore.)

From the other room, Watari did nothing but listen to what sounded like L breaking things for a little less than ten minutes. There hadn't been any loud, damaging noises for at least a few minutes now. Watari thought that it maybe might be best to re-enter the room and put his worried thoughts to rest.

(L was alright. He may be very frustrated, and upset, and overwhelmed, but he was still safe.)

Watari just needed to make sure.

He slowly creaked open the door, expecting the worst, and getting it.

The room was in utter chaos. Broken glass and plastic lay strewn all over the floor haphazardly, topped with random wires that no longer seemed to go with anything. The scene was concerning, but by far the most concerning thing in the room was L, who was hitting the wall over and over again in frustration. The hand he was using was red and swollen, but he didn't seem to care.

Watari went right away over to him, carefully stepping over the pieces of broken machinery.

"Let's not do that," he said, gently, putting a hand on L's back and softly pulling him away from the wall. He guided him over to a chair and sat him down in it.

Immediately, L buried his face in his knees and began shaking, terribly.

"Ruined, I'm so ruined," was all he seemed to be able to manage to choke out, before burying his head down even further.

Watari understood how hard this was for L, and he put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. L tried halfheartedly to shrug it off, but then seemed to give up and allowed it to stay there.

"Names can be rebuilt," Watari told him.

"I know," L whispered, into his knees. Watari had to strain his ears to make out what he was saying.

This was something L and only L could deal with himself. No one could pick him up off the ground for him. Watari could, however, stand by him as he got through this on his own.

L didn't stand a chance against Beyond. He never had. Beyond was perfect, and L was close to perfect and yet flawed.

But Beyond didn't mind his imperfection, though. He accepted every part of his precious Lawliet, because Lawliet was his. Beyond was the only person who deserved to own all of L forever, and no one else was allowed to touch him, or hurt him. Beyond would kill anyone who even tried to hurt him.

(Only Beyond was allowed to destroy L.)

L had hung up on him, because L didn't want to talk to him, because Beyond had made L very upset. That was okay. L would eventually realize that this was the way it was supposed to be, the natural order. Beyond was always at the top, L was always right below him, and at the very bottom was everyone else.

Beyond dialed the hotel room's phone number, but all he got was the droning dial tone of a phone that didn't work.

(Had L really—?)

He probably had, and Beyond found that thought both hilarious and precious. But, if L really had broken the phone, Beyond obviously couldn't call it.

Okay, he could deal with this. He would just call the phone of the hotel room next to L's, and have that person put L on the phone.

Satisfied with his plan, Beyond looked up the number and dialed.

It rang three times before a man answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, it would be a really big help if you would hand the phone over to the person in the room directly across the hall from you. Would you mind doing that?"

A knock at the door interrupted L's thoughts. He looked to Watari expectantly, and Watari nodded and answered the door.

It was an average-looking man, and he was holding one of the black hotel phones in one of his hands. He looked a bit awkward, like he wasn't sure what to say. "Uh...there's a guy on the phone who wants to talk to a man in this room. I'm not sure which one of you...?"

L's eyes hardened, and he immediately hopped off his chair and approached the man. He snatched the phone from his hands.

"I will be sure to return this," L said, prior to shutting the door in the man's face.

L put the phone to his ear. "Beyond."

L could almost feel Beyond's sick grin through the phone.

"An inconvenient disconnect, but what have you done?"

L gritted his teeth and ignored the question. "What do you want, Backup?"

Likewise, Beyond ignored the insult and said, "I want you to meet up with me."

L's blood ran cold.

(What are you planning what are you planning—)

L's response was a single word. "Why?"

"I want to play tag, and you're it."

L took a deep breath. "I don't want to play your games, Beyond."

"Oh, but Lawliet. You want to catch me, don't you? Well, now is your only chance. It's now or never." Beyond's voice sounded so smug, and it made L want to kill him.

This was obviously a trap of some sort, but if L was well-prepared, then maybe...maybe L could get Beyond off the streets. Maybe he wasn't entirely incompetent.

He had to take the chance. It wasn't as though he had anything to lose.

"...When? And where?"

Beyond sat on his bed, sharpening his knife. It was a large one—a meat cleaver with a brown, wooden handle. The glint of the knife in the artificial lighting was so, so pretty.

The world would lose a brilliant mind tonight, but it didn't matter, because it was more important to beat L than anything else.

Tonight would be incredible and exhilarating. It would be a night to never forget ever, even though there would only be one person left to remember.

(God, L was so beautiful.)

Beyond hoped he would suffer.

The trees in the park loomed somberly overhead, their branches reaching out like the arms of a drowning person reaching for the surface. It was somewhere around thirty minutes to midnight—fifteen minutes earlier than the time Beyond had said to meet.

L reached his hand down and touched the cool metal of the gun on his belt.

(He could do this.)

As he neared the quaint, wooden bridge, he noticed a silhouette of a man. As he drew closer, the figure shifted its position as if to turn to face him.

When they were within a reasonably close proximity of each other, the man on the bridge spoke, his voice like shadows.

"Lawliet."

L's heart pounded against his ribcage, his stomach swirling with anxiousness and a small bit of fear.

"Beyond."

Beyond grinned. "You're early. I see that you couldn't wait to see me."

L swallowed and reminded himself once more that he could do this, that he was more than capable of handling the situation, even though he could see the large blade that Beyond was so casually pointing at the ground.

(You have a gun.)

"Hardly."

Beyond's expression was smug, as though he thought he knew better.

"It is so perfect, wouldn't you agree, L? You finally understand how you, all of you, belong entirely to me. You belonged to me especially yesterday at the asylum. I was all over you." He licked his lips.

"Please stop. That is repulsive."

"It was so beautiful to listen to your useless sobbing as you submitted to me."

L knew that Beyond was only saying these things to make him feel uncomfortable, but L was determined not to let it. "Beyond." L's voice was sharp and precise. "You have my attention, just as you wanted. What do you expect to gain from this, then? Who—or what—am I to you?"

What? What?

And did L really just ask him that? Was it not obvious enough from Beyond's actions, from his everything, that L was the only thing in his fucking world?

Beyond couldn't even form the words. L was his obsession. He would make sure to become L's obsession, too. And, by now, he already should have been. They were supposed to be on the same wavelength.

(How could you not understand what I've been doing to you?)

"Are you seriously asking me that?" he asked, a bit manic, a bit insane. "Are you telling me you don't...you actually don't...what? Just. Just. You...I don't understand. Have I not been obvious enough? Are you stupid?"

L looked taken aback, as though he were equally confused.

"I...do not have any idea what you are talking about."

"Isn't it obvious? You're my...you're my. My." Beyond struggled to find the words. What was L to him? It horrified him that he was having such a hard time figuring it out. How had Beyond never thought about this before? How had he never realized?

"You..." Unable to locate the words he wanted to say, Beyond looked at L, and then at his knife, as if for inspiration.

Beyond was beginning to appear increasingly unstable, and L was feeling progressively more on-edge. Beyond had murder in his eyes as he looked back and forth between L and his dagger.

L fingered his gun. He hoped he wouldn't have to shoot Beyond in self defense. That wasn't what the gun was for. The gun was for killing the man who had destroyed everything, the man who had pushed him so far over the edge that he was even considering murder.

(Not just considering. He could do this.)

"All this time, you haven't even..." He didn't seem to be able to finish a sentence. It was as though not even he knew what he was trying to say. "Don't you realize how much I've done for you?"

"You have done nothing for me."

"You don't actually believe that. You wouldn't be here right now if you didn't think I'd done anything for you. I know you, Lawliet, because I'm just like you, only better. And, you know, you'd be beautiful dying." He took a step forward and raised his knife. "This way, we'll get to see what that looks like, won't we?"

And it was that. It was that that made L realize that he had to do it. He would shoot the bastard. He would he would he would. Beyond deserved to fucking die.

(Watch this watch this—)

Having no eyes for anything but Beyond's knife, L began to pull out his gun.

It didn't matter that Beyond couldn't put into words exactly what L was to him. L was L was L was, and maybe that just wasn't something that could be put into words.

(L is L, and that means everything.)

L would be beautiful dying, and L was pulling out a gun, and Beyond needed to do this before L shot him and ruined everything.

(He couldn't fail a second time.)

(That would just be a bit...ridiculous.)

Before L could even lift his gun to take aim, Beyond brought down his raised arm, plunged the dagger deep into his own chest, and watched as the look on L's face instantly twisted into that of mortification.

Immediately, L rushed forward, gun in hand. He had misinterpreted Beyond's motives, had mistaken suicidal intent for homicidal intent. In hindsight, it seemed almost obvious that Beyond would use suicide as his tool for a second time.

(The bastard.)

L dropped to his knees next to Beyond, who was lying in a puddle of his own blood. "Don't you dare fucking die," L ordered, and hated that his voice sounded so frightened and panic-stricken.

(Because, because, he wasn't frightened. L was never frightened.)

Beyond couldn't even say anything, because he was dying, and L couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't do anything about the fact that he hadn't been the one to pull the trigger. Couldn't do anything about the fact that he actually wanted to.

L pulled the knife out of Beyond's chest and covered the wound with his good hand. It wasn't really stopping the bleeding.

And, damn Beyond for breaking his other hand, because now he couldn't, he couldn't—

Beyond wasn't breathing anymore, and his body was growing progressively colder. It was easy to see that he was no longer alive, and L hated him even more for it.

"How dare you," L growled. "You bastard."

Everything seemed to be crashing down around him. It felt as though the sky was falling, was breaking away in chunks and shattering as it hit the ground. He had been so utterly defeated that it didn't even matter anymore. He had almost just shot somebody, and now they were dead by their own hand. L hadn't even been able to do anything to him.

Not knowing what else to do, L stood up and aimed the gun at Beyond's head, point blank. He would shoot his brains out. He would shoot his goddamn, psychopathic fucking brains out.

(He's already dead he's already dead—)

With a shaking hand, he clicked off the safety.

(HE'S NOT ALIVE L—)

With an angry, animalistic shout, L pulled the trigger, and the silence was penetrated by a loud BANG.

Brain matter and blood splattered and spewed out, getting all over L, but he didn't care. He shot him again and again, until Beyond's face was completely unrecognizable.

As the adrenaline died down, L dropped to the ground, trembling and gasping as sweat dripped off of him. Slowly, his mind began to comprehend the complete insanity of what he had just done.

There was no way to fix this, so L started laughing, because otherwise he felt like he would burst into tears and never ever stop. It was giddy and utterly manic, and he squeezed his eyes shut and tore at his hair with his bloodstained hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Nothing was funny, and Beyond was dead, and L had lost absolutely everything.

It took a considerable amount of time for L to calm down. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there on the ground laughing, but once he pulled himself together, he took out his cell phone. He knew he had to call this in.

This had been Beyond's plan from the very beginning—to take everything from L, leaving nothing but a shell of a man. L would always remember Beyond, because Beyond would never let him forget. He had made absolutely sure of that.

(And, god, L wanted so much to kill him, but it's impossible to kill someone who is already dead.)

Once L was certain that his voice was going to cooperate with him, he dialed the number for emergency services. He put the phone up to his ear, and didn't speak until the operator answered.

"I would like to report a suicide."

Epilogue

Sitting in his hotel room, L handed Watari his brand new laptop to pack in the suitcase.

"What are you going to do now?" Watari asked. L could tell that he'd been itching to ask for a while now.

"What I've always done," L replied. "Bring criminals to justice. Like you said, names can be rebuilt." L offered him a small smile, and Watari gave him one in return.

"I'm glad to hear it. What will you do?"

L took a bite out of his cake, which sat on an equally new glass plate. "I have a few things in mind."

Do you think that you're made of gold?

Invincible?

You think you can handle it?

You will learn from this.

~Degenerates, Scary Kids Scaring Kids

Holy SHIT. I'm done.

First and foremost, I really need to thank Stormygio, Emily, Citrine Nebulae, and Chris for being amazing and bearing with me for hours while they helped me to figure out exactly what would happen in this monster of a fic. Thanks also goes to Nix-the-Neko and Lightning027.

Anyway...yes! I did make an OC, but it was only because it was absolutely necessary. I hope he didn't seem too Gary-Stueish. I tried hard to not make him very bothersome.

There will be no sequel to this fic, just so everyone knows. Beyond is dead. A sequel would be impossible. (This is mainly directed at anyone who is like Chris and determined to convince me otherwise. It won't work.)

It would make me the happiest person ever ever ever to know what all of you people think of this fic, so please shoot me a review and let me know! Thank you so much for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed.

~Ratt Kazamata, 9/09/2012