Who Says You Can't Go Home? - SWDS 9.5
Okay, this takes a little explaining. This was originally going to be the last part of Chapter 9 of Same Words Different Situation. But, since the whole fic up to that point is told from Vincent's PoV, I figured I'd go with that and make this it's own little side story. However, it is kind of important to the plot of SWDS, and it does answer everyone's question of "Where is D? What happened to him? Where did he run to?" So this is for you guys. Part 10 will have all the rest of the answers, but let this tide you over for now! So... without any further ado...
Title: Who Says You Can't Go Home? (SWDS 9.5)
Fandom: Petshop of Horrors
Rating: PG
Archive: Ask and ye shall be as gods receive
Warning: 80's action hero Leon Orcot, reincarnation, family drama, many Ds, reincarnation
Spoilers: Volume 10 of the Petshop of Horrors manga is mentioned, and will likely continue to be so. The Papa D/Vesca side story from Shin Petshop of Horrors might also be referenced, also SWDS is mentioned, and this won't make much sense withotu reading it.
This is ridiculous. I don't know why I'm here. I don't even know if he'll let me in, the Count thought as he stood at the door of his son's pet shop. It had been six months since he left St. Rita's. Six months since he'd resigned and left everything and everyone behind. He was still jumping at shadows. He still kept expecting to turn around to see Vincent either behind him or just a few steps away. And what was more alarming was the fact that he was feeling something akin to disappointment when he found that Vincent wasn't chasing after him.
Maybe I'm going mad, the Count thought before he took a breath and knocked on the door. The minutes ticked by, two then three. The Count waited, shifting uncomfortably, and he was about to knock again when the door was opened, leaving him face to face with Leon Orcot.
While he hadn't seen the Detective in years (not since Orcot had done what Vesca had been too craven to do and shot him in the head), he wasn't that surprised to see that Leon didn't look that much older than he had that night. but then, spending time with a kami tended to do strange things to the human aging process if it was a long enough time and close enough contact. The magic rubbed off a bit. As it was, they stared at each other in silence for a few minutes, before Leon swore softly and slammed the door in the Count's face. From inside, Count D could hear his son's detective muttering to himself.
Then there was a shout that sounded a lot like "D! It's for you!" and footsteps leading away from the door.
The Count sighed, waiting. He hoped, and not for the first time, that his son would agree to see him. He hadn't seen the boy since the night the detective shot him. While he had had opportunities over the intervening years, the time had never seemed right. He wasn't sure if the time was right now, but he was out of places to go.
They say that sometimes you can't go home again. This time, I hope that whoever "they" are, that they are wrong.
The door opened then, and his son was standing there. He looked surprised for maybe half a second, before the calm kami mask snapped neatly into place. Count D thought that that particular expression was genetic, but he had never decided it to test it, if only because it would mean interacting with his father, which was something he tried to avoid as much as possible these days.
"Father," D finally said calmly. "As you can see, the Detective still has no manners. Won't you come in? It's tea time."
It's always tea time in the pet shop, the Count thought, and it has been for as long as I can remember. To D, however, he just mustered up a slight barely-there smile, and nodded. "Tea would be welcome. I've been travelling a while."
The Count followed his son inside once D motioned for him to follow. He settled on a small sofa in the first parlor-like room of the shop and watched as his son started to pour them tea.
"So why have you come here?" D asked as he handed his father a cup. "I doubt it's to buy a pet."
The Count sighed, looking down into his teacup. "I honestly don't know. I think I've finally gone mad. Again. Either that or I've run out of places to go."
D blinked, surprised that he'd gotten an honest answer from his father. Those had always been hard to come by.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. This feels wrong, the Count thought, taking a sip and wrinkling his nose at the too-sweet tea. He'd gotten too used to Vincent and to coffee to have much of a taste for tea anymore. I shouldn't have come here. Too much has happened and this place doesn't feel like home. Perhaps I was just fooling myself into thinking that it ever would.
D's voice broke into his reverie. "So why are you really here, Father? I didn't invite you in so that you could brood in the middle of my shop."
A faint smile touched the Count's lips for a brief moment. "It appears that Mr. Detective's lack of manners is rubbing off."
A look of irritation crossed D's features then. "Father, do you ever stop to think? I haven't seen you in over thirty years. And then you just show up out of nowhere in the most disruptive manner imaginable, disrupt my life all over again and to top it all off, it seems like you expect me to fix your personal problems or something! And you make faces at my tea! So why are you here, and what do you want?" he snapped.
The Count blinked at his son's forwardness, but he realized that D was right. He hadn't really thought this visit out very well. "I warn you, it's a long story."
"There are no other kinds when our family is involved," D said, not backing down.
"No, I suppose not," the Count said quietly. "And I suppose I do owe you an explanation for barging in on you like that. Very well, make yourself comfortable. This will take awhile."
He took a sip of the tea, making another face before setting it aside and collecting his thoughts. Then he started to tell his son about where he'd been, what he'd been doing, the story mostly about St. Rita's, the work he'd been doing there with the children, and Vincent. In fact, most of the story was focused on Vincent, and how irritating the man was, and how he hadn't chased after him. As he talked, he grew increasingly more agitated. Since Vincent should have chased him, especially since he was the reincarnation of Vesca Howell.
It was D putting his teacup down on the saucer hard enough to rattle both that cut the Count off, as effectively as a slap to the face was.
"Father, you have been going on about how he didn't follow you for the past two hours. He kept his word, and didn't follow you when you left. What more do you want?" D asked, looking pointedly at the Count.
The Count blinked, looking at his son as if he had just been slapped. "I don't... I mean..."
"It's sad when the emotional maturity of the child is higher than that of the parent," D muttered. "Father, go home. It's obvious that you miss him, and you're miserable. And I think he's good for you. So just go home."
"I can't," the Count said, shaking his head.
"Why not?" D demanded. "You sounded like you were happy with him. So why can't you go back to that? Why are you trying to deny yourself happiness?"
"I... it was getting serious," the Count said defensively. "The last time I got serious with a human, I got hunted for over 22 years. Vincent is Vesca's reincarnation, and I can't take that chance that he might--"
"Father, if he was going to chase you, he would have started by now," D said, cutting his father off. "You were scared and you ran. And now you're realizing it was a mistake, and you're afraid to go back. I think is what you spent the last two hours telling me."
The Count was quiet for a few moments, mulling over what his son had said.
"Go home, Father. Staying here or running won't make you happy, and it won't solve anything."
"I suppose not. I'm sorry for intruding, D," the Count said, before getting to his feet and seeing himself out.
Perhaps his son was right. Perhaps he did need to go back and face his demons. Or at the very least, face Vincent. And he needed to go back and do it before it was too late.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Title: Who Says You Can't Go Home? (SWDS 9.5)
Fandom: Petshop of Horrors
Rating: PG
Archive: Ask and ye shall be as gods receive
Warning: 80's action hero Leon Orcot, reincarnation, family drama, many Ds, reincarnation
Spoilers: Volume 10 of the Petshop of Horrors manga is mentioned, and will likely continue to be so. The Papa D/Vesca side story from Shin Petshop of Horrors might also be referenced, also SWDS is mentioned, and this won't make much sense withotu reading it.
This is ridiculous. I don't know why I'm here. I don't even know if he'll let me in, the Count thought as he stood at the door of his son's pet shop. It had been six months since he left St. Rita's. Six months since he'd resigned and left everything and everyone behind. He was still jumping at shadows. He still kept expecting to turn around to see Vincent either behind him or just a few steps away. And what was more alarming was the fact that he was feeling something akin to disappointment when he found that Vincent wasn't chasing after him.
Maybe I'm going mad, the Count thought before he took a breath and knocked on the door. The minutes ticked by, two then three. The Count waited, shifting uncomfortably, and he was about to knock again when the door was opened, leaving him face to face with Leon Orcot.
While he hadn't seen the Detective in years (not since Orcot had done what Vesca had been too craven to do and shot him in the head), he wasn't that surprised to see that Leon didn't look that much older than he had that night. but then, spending time with a kami tended to do strange things to the human aging process if it was a long enough time and close enough contact. The magic rubbed off a bit. As it was, they stared at each other in silence for a few minutes, before Leon swore softly and slammed the door in the Count's face. From inside, Count D could hear his son's detective muttering to himself.
Then there was a shout that sounded a lot like "D! It's for you!" and footsteps leading away from the door.
The Count sighed, waiting. He hoped, and not for the first time, that his son would agree to see him. He hadn't seen the boy since the night the detective shot him. While he had had opportunities over the intervening years, the time had never seemed right. He wasn't sure if the time was right now, but he was out of places to go.
They say that sometimes you can't go home again. This time, I hope that whoever "they" are, that they are wrong.
The door opened then, and his son was standing there. He looked surprised for maybe half a second, before the calm kami mask snapped neatly into place. Count D thought that that particular expression was genetic, but he had never decided it to test it, if only because it would mean interacting with his father, which was something he tried to avoid as much as possible these days.
"Father," D finally said calmly. "As you can see, the Detective still has no manners. Won't you come in? It's tea time."
It's always tea time in the pet shop, the Count thought, and it has been for as long as I can remember. To D, however, he just mustered up a slight barely-there smile, and nodded. "Tea would be welcome. I've been travelling a while."
The Count followed his son inside once D motioned for him to follow. He settled on a small sofa in the first parlor-like room of the shop and watched as his son started to pour them tea.
"So why have you come here?" D asked as he handed his father a cup. "I doubt it's to buy a pet."
The Count sighed, looking down into his teacup. "I honestly don't know. I think I've finally gone mad. Again. Either that or I've run out of places to go."
D blinked, surprised that he'd gotten an honest answer from his father. Those had always been hard to come by.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. This feels wrong, the Count thought, taking a sip and wrinkling his nose at the too-sweet tea. He'd gotten too used to Vincent and to coffee to have much of a taste for tea anymore. I shouldn't have come here. Too much has happened and this place doesn't feel like home. Perhaps I was just fooling myself into thinking that it ever would.
D's voice broke into his reverie. "So why are you really here, Father? I didn't invite you in so that you could brood in the middle of my shop."
A faint smile touched the Count's lips for a brief moment. "It appears that Mr. Detective's lack of manners is rubbing off."
A look of irritation crossed D's features then. "Father, do you ever stop to think? I haven't seen you in over thirty years. And then you just show up out of nowhere in the most disruptive manner imaginable, disrupt my life all over again and to top it all off, it seems like you expect me to fix your personal problems or something! And you make faces at my tea! So why are you here, and what do you want?" he snapped.
The Count blinked at his son's forwardness, but he realized that D was right. He hadn't really thought this visit out very well. "I warn you, it's a long story."
"There are no other kinds when our family is involved," D said, not backing down.
"No, I suppose not," the Count said quietly. "And I suppose I do owe you an explanation for barging in on you like that. Very well, make yourself comfortable. This will take awhile."
He took a sip of the tea, making another face before setting it aside and collecting his thoughts. Then he started to tell his son about where he'd been, what he'd been doing, the story mostly about St. Rita's, the work he'd been doing there with the children, and Vincent. In fact, most of the story was focused on Vincent, and how irritating the man was, and how he hadn't chased after him. As he talked, he grew increasingly more agitated. Since Vincent should have chased him, especially since he was the reincarnation of Vesca Howell.
It was D putting his teacup down on the saucer hard enough to rattle both that cut the Count off, as effectively as a slap to the face was.
"Father, you have been going on about how he didn't follow you for the past two hours. He kept his word, and didn't follow you when you left. What more do you want?" D asked, looking pointedly at the Count.
The Count blinked, looking at his son as if he had just been slapped. "I don't... I mean..."
"It's sad when the emotional maturity of the child is higher than that of the parent," D muttered. "Father, go home. It's obvious that you miss him, and you're miserable. And I think he's good for you. So just go home."
"I can't," the Count said, shaking his head.
"Why not?" D demanded. "You sounded like you were happy with him. So why can't you go back to that? Why are you trying to deny yourself happiness?"
"I... it was getting serious," the Count said defensively. "The last time I got serious with a human, I got hunted for over 22 years. Vincent is Vesca's reincarnation, and I can't take that chance that he might--"
"Father, if he was going to chase you, he would have started by now," D said, cutting his father off. "You were scared and you ran. And now you're realizing it was a mistake, and you're afraid to go back. I think is what you spent the last two hours telling me."
The Count was quiet for a few moments, mulling over what his son had said.
"Go home, Father. Staying here or running won't make you happy, and it won't solve anything."
"I suppose not. I'm sorry for intruding, D," the Count said, before getting to his feet and seeing himself out.
Perhaps his son was right. Perhaps he did need to go back and face his demons. Or at the very least, face Vincent. And he needed to go back and do it before it was too late.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9