FICLET: Regret (Pet Shop of Horrors, PG)
pokeystar's gift really worked! I've been ten times more productive today, and I was so inspired last night that I stayed up until the wee hours to write this birthday/welcome back fic for lithiumdelusion. Pokey, I don't know what sort of magic was in the package, but I'm a believer. :D
Title: Regret
Fandom/Pairing: Pet Shop of Horrors, Count D-centric (D/Leon implied)
Rating: PG
Notes: For the lovely lithiumdelusion, who celebrated her birthday last week, and requested "moving" as a prompt. Welcome back to LJ-land, darling! I'm so very glad you're back. ~squishes~ Sorry for making this angsty, but it was crying out to be told after I got that prompt. It's set during Disappearance, in Volume 10.
D was no stranger to moving.
His earliest memories were of hurried packing and midnight escapes, of suitcases as tall as he was, carrying his life, his memories, his mission. In his time, he had crisscrossed the globe and soared far above it, traveling to every continent and to worlds beyond the imagining of any human mind.
Each new city had its charms, but he had never considered any of them home; he could never be at home amongst those who had so casually slaughtered his kind. Still, Los Angeles had been agreeable. Though it was rife with vanity and selfishness, it was also warm and sunny, and the bakeries were particularly good. D's time there had been… comfortable, almost dangerously so.
He had lingered too long this time, he feared. The time had come to go away again-far away, to a place beyond temptation. He'd been so weak lately, and there had been so many times when his secret had burned within him, threatening to break free. This morning, he had been so close-he had nearly given himself away, until Leon's reaction had reminded him of his foolishness.
Never before had he felt such a pull to stay, to say nothing of these other, stranger desires that were as terrifying as they were intriguing. There had been times shared with Chris and Leon when D had felt the strange blossoming of something within him-some confusing thing beyond annoyance at Leon's idiocy, something strangely like comfort, like contentment, like hope…
There was no room in his life for such self-indulgent sentiment, he reminded himself, refusing to think too deeply about the trinket he'd packed within the suitcase. There was only duty for him-the sacred duty of his people-and that ought to be satisfaction enough. It always had been before.
The consolation rang as hollow and empty as the sound of D's retreating footsteps in the empty basement. As he lifted the suitcase and stared back at the grey, gutted hole that had briefly contained vibrant life, he realized that it was the first time in his memory that he was truly sorry to have to go.
Title: Regret
Fandom/Pairing: Pet Shop of Horrors, Count D-centric (D/Leon implied)
Rating: PG
Notes: For the lovely lithiumdelusion, who celebrated her birthday last week, and requested "moving" as a prompt. Welcome back to LJ-land, darling! I'm so very glad you're back. ~squishes~ Sorry for making this angsty, but it was crying out to be told after I got that prompt. It's set during Disappearance, in Volume 10.
D was no stranger to moving.
His earliest memories were of hurried packing and midnight escapes, of suitcases as tall as he was, carrying his life, his memories, his mission. In his time, he had crisscrossed the globe and soared far above it, traveling to every continent and to worlds beyond the imagining of any human mind.
Each new city had its charms, but he had never considered any of them home; he could never be at home amongst those who had so casually slaughtered his kind. Still, Los Angeles had been agreeable. Though it was rife with vanity and selfishness, it was also warm and sunny, and the bakeries were particularly good. D's time there had been… comfortable, almost dangerously so.
He had lingered too long this time, he feared. The time had come to go away again-far away, to a place beyond temptation. He'd been so weak lately, and there had been so many times when his secret had burned within him, threatening to break free. This morning, he had been so close-he had nearly given himself away, until Leon's reaction had reminded him of his foolishness.
Never before had he felt such a pull to stay, to say nothing of these other, stranger desires that were as terrifying as they were intriguing. There had been times shared with Chris and Leon when D had felt the strange blossoming of something within him-some confusing thing beyond annoyance at Leon's idiocy, something strangely like comfort, like contentment, like hope…
There was no room in his life for such self-indulgent sentiment, he reminded himself, refusing to think too deeply about the trinket he'd packed within the suitcase. There was only duty for him-the sacred duty of his people-and that ought to be satisfaction enough. It always had been before.
The consolation rang as hollow and empty as the sound of D's retreating footsteps in the empty basement. As he lifted the suitcase and stared back at the grey, gutted hole that had briefly contained vibrant life, he realized that it was the first time in his memory that he was truly sorry to have to go.