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A is the first to go, by his own hand. No.. no, not by his own hand. He is undone by the insurmountable pressure. The pressure to be perfect. To be L. He goes out quietly, like a hushed goodbye, or a whispered secret. It’s L and B who find him, sitting there in a pool of his own blood with one of the kitchen knives sat a few feet from him.
B sobs like a child. Cries hard and relentless, because something precious was taken from them. L doesn’t understand. He’s almost sixteen now, he’s seen plenty of dead bodies. He doesn’t understand what make’s A’s so different. He doesn’t get the nuance of this particular death. He doesn’t know that B had had to watch the numbers above A’s head tick down, like a clock. No… not a clock. Clocks didn’t bring destruction. More like a bomb. The type of bomb that rocked the very foundation of the ground when it hit.
“Why are you crying?” He asks.
“He’s dead.” B says, sniffling. “He’s dead! And… And.. It’s your fucking fault!” B knows rationally that it’s not. He knows that. He had seen it with his own two eyes. He had seen L go out of his way to help A with his work when he was behind. He’d seen L try and bring the older boy sweets, like Mr. Wammy did for him when he was upset. He knows that L is at the very bottom of the list of people who are to blame for this. Roger reaches the top. Roger, who strived for excellence. Roger. Who pushed and pushed and fucking pushed until A couldn’t take it any more. A had been nearing eighteen, and Roger wanted him to take L’s title. He had said it would be better if the world’s greatest detective wasn’t a child. But B was angry. He was so angry. And L didn’t seem to care at all. And that only made him angrier.
“It’s not my fault. A wa-“
“Adriel.” Beyond spits, biting and venomous. “His name is Adriel. Not A. Not Alternative. Adriel.”
L just stares at him for a moment with those big eyes. Names were secrets in Wammy’s house, well-guarded and close kept. But B always knew them. L didn’t ask how. B had known everyone’s names, since they were little. The genius just nods. “Adriel.” He whispers. A promise. A secret kept between him and B.
A is buried is the churchyard of the chapel attached to the orphanage, a single letter and date inscribed of his headstone. Beyond insists. He insists that the other orphans don’t get to know his name. Don’t get to even see it. L doesn’t argue, he just keeps ‘Adriel O’Connor’ inscribed in his mind, etched right next to his own name and B’s.
—
When L finds out that B is dead, he laughs. He laughs because it makes too much sense. That was how the alphabet went. A, then B, L would be next. He knew it. Then Matt and Mello, then Near. That was how the alphabet went.
He laughs because it feels like everything is crumbling under him. He laughs because his brother is dead. His blood brother. His last bond to a life he had all but kissed goodbye. Beyond is dead. No. Bhreac is dead. His brother. And Kira killed him. L had lost another brother (A had always been like a brother to him). He failed to help another brother, failed to save him. From Kira. From himself. He failed his brothers yet again. And now he would have to tell the boys.
After he laughs, L goes up to his room in his newly built task force headquarters. He destroys it. He screams. He cries. He rips the room apart. He understands now, the nuances of a death. He understands grief. He wishes he didn’t. He wishes he could still feel detached from it all.
And after that? After that, he prints out every photo of Light fucking Yagami he can find and he ruins them. He burns them, rips them up, uses them as target practice, anything he can think of. Because B’s cruelty was not an isolated trait. It was inherited, through a childhood that L had lived beside him. His own cruelty is a different brand, a cold, malicious anger, burning so hot inside him that it razed everything in it’s path. And Light Yagami had just poked the bear.
When the detective emerges from his room just shy of a week later, he pulls Light to his feet and punches him. “That’s for my fucking brother,” he spits, seething. He doesn’t care that Light is innocent in the eyes of the task force. He doesn’t care that the task force now has personal information on him. The anger turns his rationality and critical thinking to ash and smoke.
He punches him again. And again. And again. Until Aizawa and Mogi have to pull the two of them apart, L heaving and spitting and snarling like a wild animal. “That’s for Beyond Birthday, you fucking murderer!” He wouldn’t give Light the satisfaction of hearing Beyond’s true name. He may have found it, he may have unearthed the secret oath that Wammy’s kids’ names held, but L will never let Light hear it. It will forever be his secret. He will never let Light taint that name. It will only ever be letters on paper for him. He doesn’t get to hear it. He doesn’t get to know how it sounds in English. How it sounds in L’s accent. ‘Bhreac Lawliet’ is L’s secret now. And he will guard it viciously.
The pale, spooked look on Light’s bloody face is all the confirmation L needs.
Later, L has Beyond cremated, his ashes kept in two places, in the urn buried in a plot next to A, and in a smaller, portable urn that stayed around his neck on a chain.
—
When L dies, he does so knowingly. A, then B, then L. That’s how their charade of an alphabet went. That was the pattern they followed.
He sits with the shinigami. He talks with her, asks how low his numbers are. Because he knows now. He knows what B’s eyes were. He knows the power he held.
She answers his questions honestly, because even as a direct threat to her Misa, she can’t help but have some sort of respect for this human. She tells him that his numbers are long. That he will live a long life, if he survives this case. She also tells him that the numbers will not matter if his name is written down.
L knows that it is no longer an ‘if’, but a ‘when’. He knows that Light Yagami is spiteful and bloodthirsty. And he is tired. L is tired of knowing the truth and being told he is wrong. He is tired of lying and being lied to in return. Light is brilliant, and this game will never end unless someone makes the first move to end it. L knows that Light is moving into checkmate. He knows, and he moves his defenses out of the way. He will let Yagami take his life, via some proxy. Via Rem-San. It seems like cheating. It’s dirty playing and L knows it. If B was still alive, he would have called him into the case. His eyes could have helped for once, instead of causing him endless torment like they always did. But B is not alive. And soon, L won’t be either.
Foolishly.. childishly… L asks the shinigami more questions about death.
“Will it hurt?”
“I can make it painless,” she responds, with all the quiet sadness of someone forced into a position they don’t want to be in.
“Will I see them again?” He asks next.
Rem doesn’t have it in her to tell the detective the truth. She doesn’t have it in her to tell him that ‘nothingness’ doesn’t just refer to the surroundings, but everything in it. She can’t bring herself to tell him what will become of his brilliant mind, of his heart, flayed open and bleeding before her in an act of vulnerability she hadn’t thought possible of the man. So she lies. “Your brothers are waiting for you in MU. You will see them again,”
She takes no comfort in the way the man relaxes at that. The lie makes her rotted stomach churn.
-
When L leaves the task force to their own devices, he doesn’t expect Light to follow him. He certainly doesn’t expect Light to join him in the rain.
He does, however, expect the lying. Lying was all Light ever did. But L doesn’t want lies. He wants the truth. He wants what he deserves. And Light is going to give it to him, damn him. He’s going to tell him the truth.
“Do you even remember him?” L spits, anger flaring up. The bells chime and toll in his ears, roaring like an ocean in a storm.
“What?” Light questions, frowning as he raises an arm to shield himself from the downpour.
“Beyond. Do you remember him? Or was he just another criminal for you to eliminate? He meant nothing to you. He was nothing to you. You killed him without another thought.”
“He was a murd-“
“He was my brother! He was my brother! And you had no right! You’re not a god! You’re a child playing with things you don’t understand!” L snaps.
Light startles. “I’m sorry.” He says. It’s as good of a confession that L is ever going to get, and he accepts it as such. This is checkmate anyway, they both know it. Light never meant to hurt L in this game. Kill him, sure, but to see L so emotionally distraught. He feels a flicker of remorse for his actions. “I’m sorry.” His pride protests the apology, but his conscious wins out in this battle.
“You’re a monster, Kira. You’re a monster, and someday… someday someone will put an end to you. Slay the beast parading around as a false god.” L mutters. The anger drains out of him almost instantly, and he’s left feeling empty.
-
When L calls for the testing of the thirteen day rule, he knows it’s his final move. He knows he is walking to his death. He does it anyway.
‘L’ comes next in the Wammy’s house alphabet.
He falls into Light’s arms. True to Rem’s word, L doesn’t feel a thing. It’s hard to breathe. Hard to think. But he’s not in pain. He’s grateful for that at least. Still, he can’t help but think of the boys one last time. Matt comes next in the alphabet.
With the last of his strength, he reaches up, gripping Light’s tie tight with shaking hands. “Don’t you… dare.. go.. after them.” He pleads. It sounds more like a threat. L was never very good at appealing to people’s better natures.
Light has no idea what he means.
When Light gathers Rem’s death note, he can’t help the urge to flip through it. The name ‘L Lawliet’ stares back at him and he can’t help but feel like looking at L’s name is wrong. Knowing his name is wrong. He wanted it. He craved that information for almost two years now. But knowing it… seeing the letters written out, clear as day… it feels sacrilegious.
Light never looks that that page again, but ‘L Lawliet’ is carved behind his eyes, haunting him when he tries to sleep.
L is buried in a Japanese cemetery, miles and miles away from his home, from his brothers. Someone will rectify that eventually, but for now, he rests among strangers
—
Light finds out who L was talking about the second he picks up the phone October 12th, 2009. The voice on the end comes through a vocoder similar to the one the late detective used all those years ago.
There is a familiar ache in his chest as he speaks with Near.
—
The next day, Light learns that Mello is the one behind his sister’s kidnapping.
When he learns the truth of L’s successors he realises what L meant when he begged him not to go after them. It’s a dying request he can’t honour, no matter how much he feels like he should.
—
When Matt dies, shot through like a sick dog, Mello says a prayer, the name ‘Mail Jeevas’ on his lips.
It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Mello never wanted Matt to die for this.
He keeps driving until the pain in his chest blossoms past something strictly emotional. He knows his mistake now, and he accepts it. His name. His secret that only five people (and four of them were dead now) ever knew is out. The bond born of forced secrecy is broken. He knows if he checked, he’d find ‘Mihael Keehl’ written on some small scrap of paper in Takada’s hand-writing. He doesn’t have the time now though, as his chest tightens and he struggles to breathe.
He dies regretting that he didn’t check Takada over more thoroughly. Near would be all alone now. It was all up to him. All up to little ‘Nate River’.
—
Near sits with his puppets when he hears of Matt and Mello’s passings. He considers if this case is even worth it at this point, and decides it is. Not for justice. No, he doesn’t care about justice anymore.
Near is going to humiliate Light Yagami. He’s going to rip him apart with everything he has.
It’s no longer a matter of Justice. It’s about vengeance at this point.
He makes a few calls and arranges for both Matt and Mello to be sent home for burial. Near wonders if that’s what Mello would have wanted… if he even considered Wammy’s house his home by the time he died, but there’s no one he can ask.
—
Near gives them his name. He lets Mikami take it with no fight, and it feels like committing the first sin. Something unspeakable and terrifying, but freeing, in a odd way. Seventeen years of guarding his name leads to this. Culminates in him simply handing off his name like it was nothing. For a moment, he wonders what it feels like, to hand off your name with no strings attached. The teen shakes the thought away as it comes. There’s no point in entertaining things that aren’t possible. His name will always have strings attached. It will always be his most dangerous secret.
‘Nate River’ is scrawled at the top of the page and he lets everyone in the room gawk at it. He lets everyone take part in the secret. He revels in Yagami’s face, it looks like victory. It looks like winning.
Near wins the war. Even if there were so many casualties in the battles.
And in a cemetery, in a small churchyard in Winchester, there’s five headstones, and an open plot waiting for him when he’s ready to go home, all in alphabetical order.