Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ Rules ❯ Chapter 15 ( Chapter 16 )

Rules

 

Chapter 15

 

Elijah stood in his room and looked at two sheets of paper that hung from his wall. Each one had several lines scattered about the page, drawn through various short sentences. Thanks to his friends, he had managed to accomplish a fair number of things on his list, certainly more than he had thought he would have. But now his calendar lay open to the third month, and in only a few hours, it would need to be turned over to the fourth.

 

He had run out of time.

 

Breathing slowly and calmly, he let his eyes wander over the words in front of him. Images floated behind his eyes from the past two months, and he couldn't help but smile.

 

I've never had a snowball fight. That had started innocently enough with a single snowball launched at Mark from Annie's gloved hands, but it had quickly spiraled out of control. Everyone had been surprised at how good Elijah's aim was, and when he and Light had ganged up on the other three, they had cowered before their dual snow-wielding might. Of course, that had been before Ethan dumped a bucket-full of snow over Light's head. Then it became all-out war.

 

I've never thrown a surprise party. Light's, of course, since his birthday was in February. It had been simple with only a few friends, but they had had a great time, talking and laughing together until far past midnight. Elijah's attempt at baking a cake hadn't turned out the way he wanted, but no one seemed to mind. And the day after, Light had come over to help clean and had thanked him for doing something so thoughtful.

 

I've never owned a pet. That one wasn't crossed off since he didn't want to leave Rich and Julie with an animal, but he and Annie had visited a pet shop one afternoon and he had played with quite a few of the furry creatures. It had amazed him how happy they seemed to be, how trusting they were, and how at ease he felt when holding or petting one. He had liked the dogs, moreso the smaller ones than the bigger ones, but if he had been there to buy a pet, he would have chosen a cat. Not a kitten, but a full-grown cat. He liked the thought of saving an animal whose chances of being taken had fallen due to the fact that it wasn't cute anymore. He liked that thought very much.

 

I've never attended a play. Ethan had taken care of that one for him. He had shown up one afternoon with tickets to a showing of You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown and had informed Elijah that he was going with him. It hadn't been Broadway quality. It had been performed by a local middle school. But somehow, watching those young children stand up on stage and sing with their slightly out-of-tune voices had been more satisfying than seeing professionals perform Shakespeare. Unfortunately, that had been the last performance; he would have gladly seen it again.

 

A large number of things still sat on that list, but Elijah didn't mind. He had known when writing it that he would not be able to finish it. The spring and summer activities had merely been wishes, but it felt good to know that if he had lived a bit longer, they would have eventually become memories just like all the snow activities. He had no regrets, and that was the most important thing of all.

 

Carefully, he removed the sheets from the wall and laid them, one on top of the other, on his desk. He had cleaned his room, made his bed, even organized his closet and drawers. His parents would have little trouble when it came time to clean out his room. Just a final thank you to them for all that they had given him.

 

Downstairs, the clock chimed ten o'clock. Elijah decided it was time to look for Julie. He walked to the door and into the hallway, turning off the light and closing the door behind him.

 

His mother was in her study, working on lesson plans for the following day. Not wanting to disturb her, he huddled down into a ball on the floor outside the room. From the location he chose he could see both her back as she worked and the clock on the top shelf of her desk. He would wait until nearly midnight, and then he would speak to her. To say good-bye.

 

An hour passed; Elijah just sat and watched her. He memorized the way her hair swayed when she turned her head from her papers to her gradebook. The angle of her back and the tilt of her head as she jotted down notes. The way she would lean back occasionally, hands cradling the back of her head, to shut her eyes and take a breath. He watched it all and burned it into his memory. He would take it back with him. Memories of his mother.

 

Then, at 10:45, she packed up her papers and began putting them into her bag. Elijah's eyes widened. It was too early. If she went to bed before midnight, it would be much harder for him to indulge in his selfishness. As cruel as it would be for him to collapse in front of her, he didn't want to die alone. He wanted to be with her right up to the end.

 

Quickly, he got to his feet and walked to the door as if he had just come down from upstairs.

 

"Mom?"

 

She looked up and saw him peeking his head into the study. "Yes?"

 

"I'm having trouble sleeping," he lied. "Do you think you could make me some milk?"

 

"Sure, honey," she replied with a tender smile. "Just give me a minute to finish up. I'll be right there."

 

He nodded and wandered into the kitchen. A few minutes later, Julie arrived and got out a saucepan. Briefly, Elijah considered helping her, but he decided that if he let her do it all herself, it would take longer. The longer it took her to make his drink, the less stalling he would have to do to keep her up until midnight. He settled himself at the kitchen table and watched her heat the milk, memorizing these movements of hers as well.

 

"You seem down tonight, sweetheart," she noted after a while. "Is something bothering you?"

 

He watched as she poured the warm milk into a mug and replied, "I guess. I was thinking about what it would have been like if you had had children of your own. If you would have been happier."

 

"I'm very happy right now," she smiled, putting the mug down in front of him. "After all, I have you."

 

Elijah winced, but he managed to turn it into a pleading look upwards at her. "No sugar?" he asked, indicating the cup.

 

Julie sighed and fetched the sugar bowl. He watched happily as she spooned in three rounded teaspoons. "And no more," she declared, "so don't ask." She put the lid on the bowl with a loud clink and returned it to the cupboard.

 

Elijah sipped his milk. It wasn't nearly sweet enough, but he would drink it. For her. "Have I been a good son for you?" he asked timidly.

 

"Of course you have." She smiled and, as she stood next to him, ran her fingers through his hair. "I couldn't ask for better."

 

"I'm glad."

 

The clock in the hall chimed 11:15.

 

"Can we move to the couch in the other room?"

 

"Sure, sweetheart."

 

They moved to the other room together, sat down side by side, and continued to talk. Elijah spoke of inconsequential things, carefully keeping away from sadder subjects while making sure the conversation never lagged. He asked her about her classes and her students. She teased him about his posture and commented that he needed a haircut. He pulled a lock of his bangs down between his eyes and stared at it cross-eyed until she laughed. She worried a bit about Rich's stressful schedule and contemplated kidnapping him the upcoming weekend for a date or a day-trip.

 

At 11:45, Elijah asked if it would be okay if they stopped talking and just held each other for a while. Julie accepted him into her arms without question. The silence descended upon them. It was not awkward or oppressive. It was just quiet.

 

Sitting there on the couch with his head on Julie's shoulder and his arms around her waist, Elijah felt completely at peace. He had accepted his fate, had accepted that his second chance was over. With clear, tranquil eyes he watched the numbers on his digital watch. They had read 11:59 for thirty seconds now.

 

"I love you, Mom. Very much."

 

"I love you, too, Elijah," she replied.

 

In the hallway, the grandmother clock whirred.

 

He closed his eyes. "I want you to know that if I can, I will."

 

The whirring grew louder.

 

"I promise."

 

Bong …

 

"I don't understand, honey," Julie said. "If you can what?"

 

… bong …

 

There was no reply. Julie frowned as she noticed he had gotten much heavier against her shoulder.

 

… bong …

 

"Elijah?" She leaned down to look into his face. His eyes were closed.

 

… bong …

 

"Elijah, dear?" Julie pushed his body back to remove it from hers.

 

… bong …

 

His head fell to one side and slightly backwards.

 

… bong …

 

"Elijah! Elijah, wake up!"

 

… bong …

 

He slumped completely against the back of the couch. She threw her hands over her mouth and tried not to scream.

 

… bong …

 

"Oh my god, oh my god …"

 

… bong …

 

"Elijah!"

 

… bong …

 

Rich came running down the stairs, awoken by her cries. "What? What happened?"

 

… bong …

 

"I don't know. Oh my god. I just don't know!"

 

… bong.

 

The echoes of midnight died away into the house as Rich knelt beside his son and checked his breathing and pulse. Julie sat frozen on her side of the couch, staring at the young face in front of her. Tears flowed from her eyes; sobs caught in her throat. It took all she had to stop herself from turning hysterical.

 

"Hello? I need to request an ambulance. My son just collapsed …"

 

Rich was on the phone, getting help. Julie had not even seen him go. She forced herself to calm down enough to crawl over to Elijah and place a hand on his chest. It rose and fell steadily; he was breathing. But something was wrong, terribly wrong, and she knew it.

 

"Elijah," she whispered, running a finger along his forehead to push his bangs out of his eyes. Carefully, she laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his thin body. His heart thudded dully against her ear.

 

"The ambulance is on its way," Rich told her as he sat down on the floor next to them. He took one of Elijah's hands in his own and began to rub it gently. "Hang in there, kid. Just hang in there for a little while." He was obviously terribly worried, but he managed to send a smile to his wife, hoping to reassure her.

 

Julie only closed her eyes and held her son a bit tighter, quietly crying against his chest. If I can, I will. How had he known? What exactly had he meant? She didn't know, and right now, she couldn't find the strength to think about it. All she could do was hold him and pray.

 

Please don't leave. Please, Elijah. Please stay.

 

xXx

 

When Light walked into the classroom, he had to look twice at the teacher's podium in the front. Professor McCormick wasn't there. Instead, an older man he didn't recognize was shuffling papers and preparing for a lecture.

 

"Hey, it's old man Watson! Is Julie sick?"

 

Light jumped slightly at the voice directly behind him; he turned to find Mark gazing at the substitute with interest.

 

"You know him?"

 

"Sure," Mark replied with a grin. "Unlike some people who are only taking this class because they think Julie's a good prof, I'm actually a psych major, so I know all the profs in the department. Watson's not bad, although he sometimes mumbles, so you'll want to make sure your ears are screwed on properly."

 

Mark wandered past Light towards the front of the classroom, obviously intending to get a seat close to the mumbler. Light saw no reason not to follow, and he ended up sitting next to the dark-haired sophomore in the first row.

 

Once everyone had arrived and class had begun, Professor Watson cleared his throat. "Good morning. Professor McCormick has requested an emergency leave for an unspecified amount of time, so I will be teaching this class until further notice. She sent me very detailed notes, so there should be no trouble with the change. However, if you feel confused by anything, please do not hesitate to talk to me at any time. My office hours are …"

 

Light tuned the rest of the professor's sentence out. An emergency leave? He stole a glance at Mark to see if the other knew anything, but the other young man wore a confused expression as well. When he caught Light's eye, he shrugged.

 

For the rest of the class, Light tried his best to concentrate, but he found it extremely difficult. He had a feeling he knew why Julie had taken the leave, and he desperately wanted class to end so he could question Professor Watson about it. By the time the clock's minute hand had passed through an hour, Light had taken almost no notes; he had, however, chewed through three fingernails.

 

"That's all for today. Your homework is on the board. I will see you all on Friday."

 

While the rest of the class moved to leave, Light leapt to his feet and was surprised to find that Mark had done the same. Together, they approached the elderly man.

 

"Professor?"

 

Watson looked up and smiled. "Yes, Mark, what can I do for you?"

 

Light blinked, not expecting the other young man to be recognized, but he snapped back to attention when Mark asked, "Is Julie okay? What happened?"

 

"I don't know the details," Professor Watson admitted, shuffling through the papers again, "but I know that her son has been admitted to the hospital."

 

"Which hospital?" Light demanded even before Mark had finished gasping, "Elijah?"

 

The old man dug around in the papers until he found one with the name, address, and phone number of the hospital in question. Light pulled out one of his notebooks and copied it down quickly.

 

"Thank you," he said and then pulled Mark a bit away. "You call Annie. I'll call Ethan."

 

"Right," Mark replied, pulling out his phone.

 

A few minutes later, both young men ran out of the classroom, down the halls, and out of the building towards the spot where they would meet the others. As he ran, Light couldn't stop thinking about a pair of sad blue eyes and a small, knowing smile. It had happened, far earlier than Light thought it would.

 

L had returned to Heaven.