Beyond the Walls

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Death Note.

Summary: What if A’s suicide attempt failed? What if Beyond smuggled her, incognito, into Japan where she eventually meets and befriends Yagami Light? When the Kira case starts, L is confronted with not only Kira but his ex-successor, one that he believed to have perished years earlier...

A/N: I forgot that some of you guys have not read Another Note: The LA BB Murders. Here's a short summary: Do NOT READ FURTHER if you don't want spoilers. But the book is about how Beyond, L's ex-successor, commits a series of murders in LA and challenges L and Naomi, Misora to capture him. B or Beyond, is not an OC. Neither is A. In the book she committed suicide and it is hypothesized that she was what prompted Beyond to challenge L. To be honest, I wasn't sure whether A was a boy or a girl. I've read fics where she is one or other other; so just for simplication's sake, I decided to make her a girl.

-

Chapter 1: Life’s Blood

-

A faint, hoarse chuckle emerged from her dry, cracked lips as she laid in her once immaculately clean bathroom, her back half pressed against the ornate wooden door - slumped and broken as trails of crimson trickled down her ghostly white skin. Her fingers lovingly caressed the wooden handle of the pocket knife that she had filched from the kitchens. Emotionlessly, she ran her finger across the blade, feeling it bite deeply into her flesh.

It would do.

The girl lifted her head - half dazed, half vindictive – fixing her gaze towards where one of the surveillance cameras was hidden…where L was watching, always watching. She was certain the man fancied himself a God, a God of Justice: one who occasionally dipped his long meddling fingers into the slop of humanity, just to remind the world of his presence. The sheer arrogance of his belief made the corners of her lips curl.

In his single-minded quest to create the perfect heir, L had destroyed her piece by piece, pausing only to pick up her remains and remold them into a mockery of a reflection. Never once had he questioned whether she truly wanted to succeed him. Never once had he ever asked whether she was ready to sacrifice her soul and become nothing more than an inanimate letter, a statistic – A.

She wanted to hurt him. Hurt him like he did her.

A tilted her head, her steely gray eyes cold and emotionless. She would succeed in her endeavor one way or another. Her suicide…would serve as the gravest insult in his eyes: the idea that his mirror, in every sense but the physical, detested him so much that she’d prefer death over resembling him; that he was truly no God. She idly drew the knife across her bare skin, ignoring the bite of steel against flesh.

She wanted out.

It didn’t matter how, but she refused to live another day in his shadow.

Whether it was due to the loss of blood or the shoddy concoction of drugs she had carefully measured out, A’s vision began to blur. And yet, she refused to remove her gaze from the surveillance camera. She grit her teeth in determination; she wanted L to see her in her last moments; she wanted him to know that he was the one responsible…wanted him to know he had failed…

That he was no God.

Dimly, she heard the sound of footsteps and harsh voices demanding entry from beyond her bedroom door. A gripped the knife tightly, her hand trembling ever so slightly as she raised the blade to her throat. She had to finish this before they found her.

Her free hand caressed her throat, locating her jugular...

The last thing she remembered before her sight faded into black was the distant sound of her bedroom door breaking and Roger’s horrified gasp.

She was finally free…

-

-

-

Beyond gave a harsh, half-hysterical laugh as he stood before her open casket, dressed in a simple black tee shirt and slacks. His hand reached out and gently stroked A’s pale, cold cheek as he leaned forward, staring at the spot above her head. They were wrong. The doctors were wrong. He could still see the numbers ticking away above her. Alive. A was alive. He threw his head back and laughed loudly, the sinister chuckles caused everyone at the funeral to turn and stare disapproving at him.

She had won.

She had beaten L.

He roughly shrugged off Roger’s hand, knowing that the caretaker believed that he had gone mad with grief. It was common knowledge that he and A were best friends – inseparable since the day they met. Beyond bent down and gently placed a sloppy kiss on her forehead, pushing aside her dark brown locks.

When she’d told him of her plan to escape, he had laughed.

You just didn’t do that to L. It was…blasphemy to spite a God so. And yet, she had proceeded with her suicide. She had taken her life – the life that L objective as his – and destroyed it.

Beyond clucked his tongue, shaking his head in amusement.

Had your suicide succeed, A, you would have done nothing more than dent L’s blasted pride. You would have still lost. He forcefully broke the stem of the rose he was holding, tearing his fingers upon the thorns, before placing the bloody flower in her pale hands. But you lived…you survived…and in doing so, you beat L at his own game. You are free. You are no longer under his control. You’re no longer his successor.

As Roger tapped him on the shoulder and gently led him away, Beyond spared A one last glance. Tonight, after she was buried, he’ll come back for her. He’d take her, create an alternate identity for her, and release her into the world…

She had won…

Crimson red eyes glittered sharply as a cruel smile bloomed upon his face. He stared, undeterred, at the hunched figure leaning inconspicuously against a rotting willow tree. And as intelligent ebony eyes met his, Beyond released yet another crooning laugh.

Now it’s my turn, L.

-

-

-

An instinctive shiver trailed down his spine at the sound of Beyond’s mad laughter. Stoically, L observed the teenager with wide, unreadable eyes. He had always known, to a degree, that B was not stable. But up until now, he hadn’t been too concerned. A has always managed to reign in Beyond’s wildness; she was the only person Beyond truly listened to. A…kind, soft-spoken, little A. She had been the heart of the orphanage...

The raven haired detective bowed his head, refusing to move closer to the coffin. And though L’s face retained his perpetually impassive quality, his hands were clenched tightly against his sides, shaking with frustration.

This was unacceptable. He was L, the best detective in the world. He of all people should have anticipated this; should have foreseen that A would lash out like this…

But he hadn’t.

And the clues had been all there…

He had dismissed his misgivings, deluding himself into believing that everything was fine. He had ignored way A’s thin, scrawny form grew smaller and smaller after each of their lessons; the way A’s once steely, strong gray eyes had acquired a strangely shattered quality; the way she dipped her head obediently to his every word…as if she had become a puppet, his puppet.

L shifted uneasily, not liking the direction his thoughts were heading.

He had gone over the tapes of A’s suicide at least a dozen times. L had watched, mesmerized, as the twelve year old sliced the blade through her skin, a cold, contemptuous expression upon her face. She had stared blankly into the camera the entire time, even as the light slowly bled out of her eyes.

He was Justice.

He was infallible….wasn’t he?

The raven-haired man stared down at the ground, ignoring the heavy footsteps behind him, signaling Watari’s approach. He chewed on his bottom lip, his dark eyes focused intently on the ornate mahogany coffin in the middle of the clearing.

The two stood in silence, both lost in their thoughts.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

L glanced over at Watari, taking in his haggard, tired expression. The older man had grown to love A as a daughter; her suicide had hit him especially hard. L dipped his head in affirmation, taking Watari’s vague statement for what it was. Blame. The young man nudged the ground with the toe of his shoe.

“B is lost to us as well,” L murmured, finally breaking the silence. “He will not stay at Wammy’s without A.”

Watari’s eyes were dark and seriously. “I know.”

It was strange…

To think that he had managed to destroy two perfectly good lives without even trying. L closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Perhaps he was destruction. Perhaps that was all there is to L. Destruction of criminals; destruction of evil; destruction of all.

Frankly, it frightened him.

And for the first time in eighteen years, L was forced to reevaluate his convictions and beliefs… forced to revaluate his position as L. And bit by bit the sheen cloth of immortality that L had once worn proudly, slowly began to slip off his pitiful frame. And as days turned into months, piece by piece his convictions and delusions fell until there was nothing left. Nothing left but his mortality.

L was no God.

No more.

-

-

-

A/N: So, how was it? Review PLEASE!