Disection 002

[b-isforbetter.livejournal.com]

[The thing that looks like L isn't in the safe house. He's in one of the old buildings, huddled up in his mismatched winter clothing next to a fire. The contacts in his eyes are starting to hurt, but he doesn't take them out; they'll only freeze and be unusable. He doesn't want to go to the safe house, not when he is already too weak to hold up his facade as L. He hasn't eaten in a week; B only eats jam, and there is no jam here. Without the natural insulation of body fat, he is steadily freezing to death. He knows this perfectly well, but he is not frightened. In his world, death doesn't frighten him anyway: he understands death far better than life. And here, he doesn't need to worry about dying and leaving L and M to become better than him. He knows that death isn't real here: the numbers over people's heads have stopped counting down. No one is living the next moments, hours, or days until their deaths; time has stopped here. If he dies, he knows it will not be permanent, because the only real death is the permanent one.

So he sits, keeps himself comfortable. He knows that huddling and keeping his pinched face close to the fire is an instinct, but he doesn't try to ward off instincts right now. He waits patiently to freeze and to stop breathing. He'll come back to this "manor" that everyone talks about, and there he will be warm, and close to L. He smiles and closes his eyes.]