In the Dark of the Night
Pairing: D X Count D
Rating: G
Next in the series, which is entirely too long, and will stop soon, I promise.
Tell me if you hate it or like it or felt entirely unmoved. I want to know.
In the Dark of the Night
Leon opened his mouth, a fish out of water, and struggled for breath - he was being crushed by bands of steel that tightened inexorably around his ribcage, making them crackle like dry leaves underfoot, forcing all available air from his straining lungs. A python had him; he would be eaten, liquefied, devoured alive and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Nothing, nothing, repeated the dismal voice in his head, nothing at all… but open his eyes. It was a nightmare , only a dream…wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? But when he opened his eyes to the dark he knew this was no dream. It was real, excruciatingly so, and if he didn’t do something real damn soon, D was going to snap his spine and suffocate him with those skinny arms.
“D! D! Wake up, damn it! Come on, D, come on, let me go…!” It was effort to get the words out when he couldn’t move to shake D off. His lungs were burning, dying within his collapsing chest. He wondered just how he’d been like this: he was so light-headed, it was difficult to think what to do.
There was no response from D, except a further tightening of his arms. Leon closed his eyes against the pain. That was a mistake.
“D, please!” It was increasingly difficult to get words out. His limbs numb now and his head was swimming in a pale red haze that screamed ‘danger.’
“..D..” This time he didn’t expect an answer, but he wasn’t giving up. This wasn’t the way he had planned to die, even if it was in his own bed….His nostrils widened as he tried to fight the red haze.
Shit.
“T-chan!” Leon bellowed but it was not much more than a whisper in the dark, almost soundless. D’s arms clenched, flinching at the stifled sound and Leon nearly swooned, the haze gathering with a vengeance.
“Tetsu!” Please! Someone had to help him, save him, or he wouldn’t be alive to see their child, or finish his work in the study, or hold D ever again--
The bedroom door slammed open and T-chan was there, grasping D’s wrists, forcing them open with inhuman strength so that Leon could fall back, dragging great draughts of air into his starved lungs at last. A rib snapped back into place, popping from the release of pressure and he doubled over, reduced to painful panting when he only wanted to be able breathe clearly again, enjoy the rush of oxygen that flowed back into his blood, his brain. D fell back too, wild eyes open now and staring at Leon in utter horror, flicking to T-chan’s grim expression, and then back again, to his lover panting blue-lipped beside him. His horrified face crumpled as he curled into a ball, wrapping those killer arms about himself this time and rocking in an agony of anguished regret.
“For..give..me…For..give me…I am …so…sorry, Le...on.” Tears trickled down his shocked face and Leon reached out automatically, to grab him and comfort him but T-chan stopped him mid-motion with a hard twist on his bare shoulder, hauling him back from temptation. Staring, still half-hoping this was just a nightmare, Leon saw there was blood on D’s white chin and wondered vaguely where it came from. He would wipe it off and calm him and then call Q-chan-Leon reached out again to the trembling D.
“No, idiot! He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Leon. Don’t touch him!”
“But why..?” Leon glanced down at his bare chest, suddenly aware of another pain, a damp sharp twinge somewhere on his bruised chest. Blood seeped in long trickles from a deep half-moon bite scarring the smooth skin above his left nipple. Blood? Why blood?
“What’s going on, D? What is it?” D said nothing, only whimpered and hugged himself harder, and the terrible fear filled Leon’s mind - D was dying, dying and he could do nothing. The baby would kill him and Leon would only be able to watch, helpless, useless, again.
“No!” He lurched forward once more, not thinking, to get to D and rouse him - them - from this nightmare, but Tetsu shook him violently, howling “Not again!” in his deafened ear and grasped Leon’s shoulders so hard that his sharp nails dug in, and Leon’s head whipped back and forth on his bruised neck. His mind hung there in mid-air for a second and than snapped back into some semblance of its normal shape. This wasn’t his mom, this was D and D was strong, and kami’s could do this and live. He couldn’t help, he knew that, but Q-chan--
“We have to call Grandfather! T-chan, get the fucking phone!” Shouting hurt his ribs - there were at least two broken, he could feel it - but it made him feel marginally better.
“I am here, Leon.”
The elder D stood in the open door, his hood back, cloak parted to reveal a slim Chinese tunic in cream and gold, and Leon swung his head around in amazed relief. Thank god, thank god, he thought and would have kissed those little black slippers in gratitude, but he was still firmly in Tetsu’s grasp.
“Zu Fu,” D’s voice was weak and reedy, “You...must...help...me…I…cannot…” A feeble hand fisted and he arched suddenly, back rising up from the bed, and screamed. The eldritch sound nearly shattered Leon’s eardrums. He wrenched out of Tetsu’s hold and dove forward, pulling the suffering kami into his arms, kissing his wet face and rumpled hair wildly, sobbing himself now because it hurt so and he could do nothing.
“Q-chan, Q-chan, make it stop, damn it, I beg you. Make him stop!”
“Yes, yes - that’s why I’m here, Leon. Ten-chan, bring my bag, and you, Leon, unhand him. You’ll need to get out of the way, please.” Grandfather’s calm voice was a hypnotic balm, inarguable, soothing wild kami and frantic human alike, and Tetsu reached forward again and was able to loosen Leon’s death grip on D.
“Come on, let go. You’re not helping here, Leon.” He tugged firmly and Leon gradually released D, sitting up as D subsided weakly on the blood-smeared pillows, the spasm ending as abruptly as it began. The Count and Ten-chan moved into the room, eyes intent on their patient. Ten carried a black strapped bag, reminiscent of an old-fashioned doctor’s carryall, and a steaming bowl of water, a pile of white towels draped over one arm.
“You can do something, Grandfather? Help him?” Leon’s head was still ringing, his ribs hurt, and the still-bleeding wound stung, but he had no time to think of that. The only thing was D, quieter now at last, his odd eyes fixed on his Grandfather.
“Yes, of course, Leon. That’s what I’m here for. Now go away, please.” The Count reached out for the black bag Ten-chan handed him and took out a little jar of something. Leon heaved a tremendous sigh of relief - which hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, ‘cause it stretched the ripped skin on his breast and wrenched those poor broken ribs - and scrambled ungracefully off the bed, he and the Totetsu moving back as one to let the Count through.
“Put some clothes on, Detective. I am in no mood to enjoy that,” The Count said in passing, already reaching out a hand to D’s brow.
“Wha-Oh! Sorry.”
A grinning Tetsu handed him his dusty jeans and T-shirt off the chair where he’d left them and Leon turned his back to them for a moment, hustling into his clothes. The kami lit incense while he wasn’t looking and a drowsy sweet scent filled the air almost immediately, billowing in vaporous clouds around the bed. D breathed it in and visibly relaxed, the harsh lines of his strained face settling back into their accustomed calm, his wracked limbs straightening out from the fetal curl he’d regressed to after that last horrible episode. A warm washcloth was laid on his head and the Count wiped the streaks of Leon’s blood away with another, courtesy of Ten-chan, who dispensed them with a professional air. Leon’s heart rate slowed back to normal as he watched D respond to the Count’s gentle touch, and the pain in his ribs sprang front and center, no longer something to be ignored. He felt them gingerly, rubbing a hand down the side with the bite. The bleeding had stopped, but it stained through his shirt, and the fabric clung to his skin.
“Is he-?” Leon gulped past the frog stuck in his dry throat. “Is it time, Grandfather?”
“Oh, yes. Past time. Correct, my grandson?” D nodded and a faint smile lit his face. Leon surged forward involuntarily at the sight of it and T-chan snagged him again, spinning him around toward the open door.
“Enough of that. Out you go!”
“Wait! I wanna stay here, Q-chan - you can’t chase me out! D, tell him--!” But T-chan was frog-marching him and D didn’t call him back, and when the door closed with an unmistakable air of finality Leon knew he wasn’t getting back in anytime soon.
Fucking Q-chan. Wonderful Q-chan. Leon would ask him later how he knew. Right now, it was enough that he was here, doing what ever the hell needed to be done to deliver their baby safely into this world, and keep D alive and well. Just the last would be enough, he thought.
“This way, Leon. We’ve got a visitor.” He was frog-marched all the way down the hallway, but he’d long since given up resisting. Pon-chan opened the door to the parlor with military precision as they arrived and Tetsu shoved him in, so he stumbled. He stopped short in mid-stumble- there was indeed a visitor, one he really should have expected.
“Ah, Mr. Detective!” The young boy stood up and tucked his chin-length black hair behind his ears in a careless fashion, coming across the room to greet Leon. His royal purple eyes were smiling, full of childish glee, and Leon stumbled again, this time verbally, his mouth open but not actually functioning. What the hell was he supposed to call this one? Papa D, Count D…or just D? Or wait, this kid was supposed to be human - maybe he had some other name, a human name, like Ted or Fred or something.
“D, Mr. Detective. I am none other.” The lispy voice was nothing like what Leon remembered from the penthouse. It was sweet and high, and surprisingly innocent. He sure as shit hoped Papa “D” here had gotten over his need to wipe out humanity or they’d be in for a long, uncomfortable wait.
“Leon, tea.” Pon-chan forced a paper-thin cup into his hand and he fell gracelessly into the armchair, gathering what remained of his wits. His ribs hurt and so did the wound on his chest, every time he moved. His D could do a lot of damage without even half trying, damn it. He’d better be strong enough to give birth.
They had better not take too long in the bedroom or he was going to be in there, T-chan or no T-chan.
“Okay, ‘D’. I guess I should say ‘hi, how are you?’, huh, since you’re already here? Or whatever the polite thing is, right? How’d you guys get here so fast, anyway?” He was curious about that. He and D used the subways and the incredible train system that Tokyo rightfully boasted of. Or plain old feet. Nothing that would weird him out, like walking through clouds or riding on the back of a kirin. He knew for a fact Q-chan and Fath-er, young ‘D’ were based in Washington, D.C., which was what, just the few thousand miles away, right? They’d talked to the Count around 5 pm, Japan time. There was no way in hell any plane could make that; probably not even a Blackbird could make that. Ruling out the logical (which he found himself doing a hell of a lot anymore, what with living in the Shop), that left teleportation or ‘magic’ or something. Hell, maybe they’d used that damned boat he’d been kicked out of.
It was really quiet back there-he couldn’t hear a fucking thing. He hoped D was alright; that the incense worked and pain was gone. He wanted to go and see-
“Father usually just takes my hand, Mr. Detective, and then we are where we need to be. It’s very simple, I think. Nothing much to it.” The child explained seriously, tilting his head to one side. He was tall for his age, which Leon guessed to be about seven, and he had a little widow’s peak where D did not. But his eyes were pure purple, like Father’s had been, and his face was definitely that of a kami…or would be, when the puppy fat melted away. Leon suddenly realized that he now had a fair idea of what the young D had looked like. His heart thumped in his chest, startling him back to attention.
“’Leon,’ okay? Call me Leon.”
“Oh, okay, Leon. Anyway, Father said that we were going and I should bring my backpack,” and here the boy proudly indicated a Spongebob backpack leaning against the couch, “so I packed up and we came.” He turned his head and stifled a yawn politely with a small somewhat grubby hand. He had no nails to speak of and his hand was not as narrow as D’s would have been at that age. He wasn’t as thin, either; his cheeks were plumper, like a human child’s, and had a healthy glow, very unlike his D’s porcelain skin. When the little boy yawned again, barely hiding it this time, Leon realized the D before him truly was a child now, an excessively tired one who was allowed up way too late, even if he was the spitting image of his old self in miniature.
Maybe he’s happier now…now that he’s been reborn.
Leon hoped so. From the vantage of seven years later he had realized that only thing that prevented him from finding D sooner was his own frailty - his lingering regrets, and his cowardice, his overwhelming fear of rejection and his burden of sins that weren’t his own. But he did own up to one big one: he had killed D’s father. All the other sins paled beside it.
D never mentioned it, not once, and it had only cast a shadow in his own mind. Sure, there had been circumstances that allowed his cold-blooded action to be called ‘self-defense.’ But he knew, he knew that it could have been different, if only Agent Howell had not fired, if only Father D had not threatened his brother and all of humanity. He’d been watching D’s face when his Father had fallen, riddled with Vesca’s bullets, and had castigated himself even as he pulled the trigger, not knowing what else to do, but doing, even if it was wrong. The arc of that bullet had stolen his last faint hope that D would ever allow him back in his world of ‘love and dreams’. It had been so very hard to be ‘saved’ after that, only to be thrown away again. It was not until a long time later that he found ‘hope’ again, in a child’s drawing of a shopkeeper’s smile.
Poor Father, to feel such despair that he could only think to retaliate like that. Poor Father, who believed that death was preferable to continuing a lonely and meaningless life. He hoped to god this boy would have a happier life than the one that had come before.
Leon heaved a sigh, which didn’t sting as much as he thought it would, and brought his mind to here and now. This D was exhausted and rightfully so - it was four in the morning, damn it. Leon was tired, too.
“Hey, kid, I bet we can find you a bedroom, right, Pon-chan? You could take a little nap, rest up for the big event. I’ll wake you up when the baby’s born, how’s that?” Leon heaved himself up, not noticing his ribs as much, and put a hand out, feeling oddly brotherly…or maybe ‘fatherly’. Was he a father yet? How much longer did he have to wait?
“I’m not tired, Leon! Papa said I could stay up if I wanted to and that’s what I’m going to do.” The boy was firm about that. He crossed his arms and shook his head, frowning. “Because I miss D, Mr. De-Leon. He never calls me or talks to me like he does with Papa. I wanna see him before he sleeps - and the baby, I want to see the baby…” Which would have been fine, but the kid’s lids were sagging and it was clear he wouldn’t make the wait. Oh Christ. Now what to do?
He remembered what Chris liked, when he was too excited to sleep. Hell, it might work, even with this self-possessed little person.
Leon asked Pon-chan in a quiet voice to get a blanket, only half-listening to the boy babble on about babies and D. He sauntered over and sat down next the young D on the couch, scooting his unresisting little body over till he rested against Leon’s shoulder. Pon-chan brought a blanket and covered him up and, after a long minute, Little D smiled.
“Warm. This is nice, Leon. Papa does this too.” His eyes drifted shut with that and Leon stuck a casual arm around him, so he wouldn’t keel over, and wondered what it would be like to do this for his own kid. He was glad Q-chan was doing it for the boy. Little D wasn’t so bad, really. Much better than his old self. He hadn’t said anything smarmy or cutting; hadn’t even brought up the fact that Leon was a hated human. Did he even remember his past?
“Are you really a daddy now?” Wasn’t he asleep yet?
“Yeah, well, I will be. That good enough?”
“Do you like it? Being a Papa?”
“Yeah. I guess I do, even though it was...kind of...a surprise at first. I think it’s pretty cool we managed to make a baby.” Leon glanced down at the kid’s face. It had gone still and austere and he nearly let go of him in shock. The pale lids were closed tight, a long fringe of midnight lashes sweeping each cheek, but he was frowning fiercely and the voice that issued from his rosebud lips was eerily familiar.
“I was afraid.”
“Pardon?” Huh? Who the hell was this?
“I feared it, so much so that my Father took my child.” Leon stared. This was no little boy’s voice. He knew it too well. He had not wanted to hear it again, not in this lifetime, not this momentous night, while D suffered in childbirth not too far away.
“Do you regret it?” His own cracked as he asked, from nervousness, maybe, but he’d always wanted to know about that. There had been too many incidents not to be convinced that D had been badly hurt by that early abandonment. Leon hated that D had been amazed that he wanted this kid, his kid.
“No, I do not. I regret that I wasted my time, worrying. Father did a better job than I ever could. I should have just let him be. I should not have tried.”
“Q-chan did a pretty good job, yeah. I guess. But you loved your son, right?”
“Oh yes. In death and in life. I would like to see him now, if only he would allow it.”
“Even if he’s shacking up with a human, Count?” It was harsh, but it needed to be said.
“Oh, my, you are a crude one, Mr. Detective.” Theunearthly giggle made Leon’s skin crawl. “But yes, even then.”
Pon-chan was staring, mouth open, from her perch on the armchair. She hadn’t uttered so much as squeak since the little boy had changed. Leon had almost forgotten she was in the room. He wondered what she made of this…what he made of it, since it was just too weird, too sad. Did Q-chan realize what went on with this kid? That he carried within him all of his terrible past, all too clearly visible to the unsuspecting? Or maybe it only happened when he was tired, or on special occasions, like his grandson’s birth. Leon slowly shook his head back and forth. This was too confusing, and it was late - or rather, very early, and he was too tired to deal with the ramifications of that.
The boy’s face had become anxious now, the frown turning petulant. He shifted restlessly against Leon’s side and then opened his eyes, to peer suspiciously up at Leon beside him.
“You promise to wake me, yes?” Purple slits stared determinedly up and Leon paused and then nodded, finding his voice again, clearing his throat.
“Yeah, yeah. Sleep, ok? I’ll wake you, don’t worry.” The youngest D smiled again, this time with all the charm of his elders, and slid finally into the heavy sleep of a real child. Leon tried not to think about that, or at least not too hard.
Pon-chan left the armchair silently, and climbed up on Little D’s other side. She leaned toward Leon across the blanket, hands nervous in her lap.
“Is the Count alright, Leon? T-chan said it was terrible.” She frowned and nervously twisted a golden curl. She was clearly upset. So was he, for that matter.
“Yeah, it was, um, a little hairy there for a while, but I think Q-chan got him straightened out. He’ll be ok, Pon-chan, don’t worry.” Leon reached up absent-mindedly to scratch his chest and barely noticed the ridge of a scab under his T-shirt. He wanted to go back, maybe listen at the door, but he was currently trapped.
“Here.” T-chan appeared and shoved a large tumbler of brown liquid in his face and Leon grabbed it with his free hand. The spirit’s aroma crawled up his nostrils and whispered around his brain, recalling memories of long ago. Maybe the fumes would wipe out some of the stuff that had happened so far on this very weird night, but Leon didn’t really believe that. Alcohol wasn’t strong enough.
“Glenlivet? Seriously, T-chan? Where the hell did we get this?” He sipped, a tiny taste that sent his tongue into ecstasy and than tore down his throat like the devil. Perfect. Exactly what he needed. Good for shock and all that.
“The Count brought it with him. And some other stuff, for the baby, he said.” T-chan pointed and Leon noticed packages strewed around the shadowy recesses of the parlor. His eyes widened.
“Is that a bassinet or a pram, T-chan? That big one over there,” Leon gestured with his glass, sloshing. His ribs didn’t hurt at all now and he was feeling rather better. Little D slept beside him, undisturbed.
“Don’t know, Leon. Baby stuff is not my gig. Hey, you want me to move him now?” T-chan nodded toward the sleeping boy. “The Count’s got a room all picked out for him.”
“Nah. Not just yet. You gotta give ‘em twenty minutes, otherwise they wake up and won’t go back to sleep at all. Learned that from Chris.” He glanced down at dark head nestled into his armpit and smiled at the tiny snore. That was better.
“He’s fine for now. But, look, Tet, maybe you could just go down the hall and poke your head in, see if D wants me to come?”
“Not a chance, Mr. Detective. I value my life, even if you do not!”
“I’ll go, Leon! I wanna see what’s happening!” Pon-chan bounced off the couch and headed out the door, too fast for T-chan to call her back. He shook his head and went to get the tea tray, gathering dirty cups.
“Hey, T-chan, you know anything about kamis?’ Leon idly took another small sip, deciding idly that it was the last one. He didn’t need it anymore.
“Like what?” T-chan lounged against the door into the kitchen, loaded tray in one hand, Glenlivet bottle in the other. Leon looked at those hands and thanked them, but under his breath. If Tetsu had any idea just how grateful he was, he’d never live it down.
“Like how they reproduce? Give birth, have little kamis - you know, stuff like that?”
“You’re grasping at straws, Mr. Detective. I only know they are revered, like the Scared Beasts…and that you, Leon, are very, very lucky.” He showed his teeth and Leon stared, and blinked.
“You want some more of this?” T-chan waved the bottle.
“No, no. I’m good. Think I’ll go set up the nursery - we got a screwdriver?” T-chan laughed on his way into the kitchen.
How long had it been? An hour? More? He wanted Pon-chan to come back, or someone, anyone, who could distract him. How long did it take?
He cast his mind back, to the myths that had been stuffed into his head during that Gen Lit class, to the Hercules movie he watched with Chris. How did gods give birth? Sparkles and fanfare? Or blood and suffering and unimaginable pain, if the child was tainted with mortal blood?
He just needed to go back there, listen at the door, that’s all. Wouldn’t take a minute, and he’d put little D to bed on the way. He had to wait, though, or the boy would wake up and he wasn’t sure he could talk to him just yet. The presence of Father had been a little too much for someone who was just recovering from near-suffocation…among other things.
It had been especially long, those last few months. D was cranky and they never had sex, though he’d done handjobs and blowjobs and everything he could think of, trying to make it easier for D, give him some pleasure to lay over the pain. Trying to show him how much he was wanted, needed, ‘cause sometimes Leon felt his words didn’t get through. He wasn’t good with words anyway. They made him uncomfortable, like he was begging…and the truth of it scared him. He would beg if he had to, or do anything, no matter how trivial or humiliating, if D just stayed healthy and interested…and if the baby came sometime this century.
Leon spent some time praying then, though he wouldn’t have been able to tell who he prayed to, or whether he actually believed it would help. He had met gods, had tea with them even, and he knew there were limits to godhead. They could not stop death or make someone love - they could only watch over…or prop up, faithful hounds under their master’s hands. But he hoped they would listen, at least. It couldn’t hurt to watch over one of their own.
They already were, in fact. Q-chan was with D, and Ten-chan. Probably Pon and Honlon and all the ladies, lions, tigers and bears - all of them, just like the day he’d found D sleeping off the aftershock, the first time Q-chan had come to visit.
Leon smiled at the thought, and it was a kami’s smile, though he didn’t realize it.
It was time.
He put his glass down, gently so it didn’t clink, and tucked the blanket around the boy. Shifting, he slid one arm under the kid’s knees and tightened the other round the small shoulders, ready to move.
“I’ll do that, Leon.” T-chan was beside him in that annoying way he had, and Leon froze so that his startled jolt wouldn’t wake the boy. A little fumble and then Little D was up in the air, safe in T-chan’s arms. Leon sat back and glared at his curly-horned foe, foiled again.
“It’s all good, Leon. The Count says everything is just fine.” Pon-chan was back, skipping through the door, cocking her head to catch T-chan’s inaudible comment as he left the room.
“Great! That’s great, Pon-chan. So I’ll just go back and see-“
“The Count doesn’t want you there, Leon.”
“The Count? Which Count, Pon-chan?” Goddamn it to hell. This was killing him!
Pon-chan moved off, conveniently avoiding Leon’s question, and went over to examine the packages.
“Oh, there’s diapers, Leon! And a mobile and some blankets…and here’s some little tiny clothes. So cute! Oh, what’s this big one?”
Goddamn it to hell! Leon inched forward, slinking off the couch and sidling round it toward the door. In a second, he’d be free and clear and nothing was going to stop him this time-
“Misster Detective? Vhere are you going? The Count has not allowed vissitorss yet.” A woman built along the lines of a Valkryie Maiden stood suddenly in the open doorway, effectively blocking Leon’s escape.
“Ssit, pleasse, Misster Detective. You are not vanted yet.” Leon backed up a step. The tall blonde woman wore a clingy green spangled dress that screamed ‘sexy’ but she could likely snap him in two. Those bare shoulders and smooth arms barely disguised pure muscle. He had the distinct feeling that if he’d met her in the old Shop he would’ve seen big crocodilian teeth to go with the slight sibilance he’d picked up on.
“Uh, no, ma’am, I don’t think-“ Leon began but was interrupted a second time.
“Now, now, Velda, you mustn’t frighten the boy! He’s only anxious, I suppose, and he should be, don’t you think?” There was another woman crowding through the door, this one just as tall as the Valkyrie but with tawny streaks in her long honey hair and brilliant green eyes that unwillingly fascinated the impatient Leon. This lady was drop-dead gorgeous, a knock-out, a goddess, fit for his wall - but a Juno, for her jaw was set in iron and her back ramrod straight.
“I know I always worried too, dear, when the babies came. Give him a tiny little break, will you, darling?” She brushed past Leon and the chastened Velda, a cool hand caressing his cheek as she passed. Leon was enveloped in a cloud of the sweetest perfume.
“Such a sweet boy, aren’t you? Well, where’s the champagne, Pon-Pon, my dearest girl? Break it out, would you! Time to celebrate!”
“Ah, thanks, ma’am,” Leon wasn’t sure what else to say, if that even required a response, but in any case there was opening at the doorway now that Velda and the leonine lady had moved, and he stepped toward it desperately, nearly slamming into a petite black lady of matronly years.
Shit! He wasn’t here to play Red Light, Green Light, damn it! They had all better just get the fuck out of his way!
“Watch where you’re going, young man! You don’t have to be in such a big hurry - he’s not going to disappear!” Her crow’s feet crinkled good-naturedly and she walloped Leon on the back, practically sending him flying into the hallway. “Best be on your way, little man - they’re waiting for you.”
Leon found his feet and lurched forward, screaming down the hall at mach speed. Finally, finally, he was allowed to see D - would see them, cause it seemed his kid was here at last and if the Pets were celebrating, than it had to be a good thing, right? Right!
He fetched up before the bedroom door, still firmly closed, and Ten-chan, now garbed in a Goth nurse outfit (fishnet white stockings and little white cap), in deference to the occasion, no doubt.
“Uh, uh, uh, Leon - not so fast! What’s the magic word, daddy-o?”
Shit, damn it, shit! Like he had time for this!
“Look, Ten-chan--!”
“Nope, not till you say the ‘magic word’, Mr. Detective. Don’t even try,” Ten-chan grinned and crossed his knee-high white vinyl platform boots at the ankles, leaning firmly back against the door. Leon recognized an immovable object when he saw it.
“Ok, ok, I get it. Fine, I’ll bite.” Leon frowned hard. He wasn’t exactly in the mind-set to play games, but there was no help for it.
“Alright, how ‘bout ‘open sesame’? Will that work?”
“Nope, not even close.”
“Count D.”
“No, no! Try again, Detective,” Ten-chan giggled and Leon wanted to slap him, hard.
“Um…’Father’.”
Ten-chan shook his head.
“Please? Come on, Ten-chan, I’ve waited long enough; I wanna see him-“
“Ah, you got it, Leon! Good work! Go right on in, Mr. Detective.” Grinning at his own joke, Ten-chan swept open the door with a flourish and Leon leapt through, not waiting for Foxy Boy to come up with anything else, or for Tetsu to appear and get in his way, or anyone else for that matter.
He was in, finally, and what he saw in the brilliant haze of the candelabra and the first faint light of dawn more than made up for all the waiting.
END
Rating: G
Next in the series, which is entirely too long, and will stop soon, I promise.
Tell me if you hate it or like it or felt entirely unmoved. I want to know.
In the Dark of the Night
Leon opened his mouth, a fish out of water, and struggled for breath - he was being crushed by bands of steel that tightened inexorably around his ribcage, making them crackle like dry leaves underfoot, forcing all available air from his straining lungs. A python had him; he would be eaten, liquefied, devoured alive and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Nothing, nothing, repeated the dismal voice in his head, nothing at all… but open his eyes. It was a nightmare , only a dream…wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? But when he opened his eyes to the dark he knew this was no dream. It was real, excruciatingly so, and if he didn’t do something real damn soon, D was going to snap his spine and suffocate him with those skinny arms.
“D! D! Wake up, damn it! Come on, D, come on, let me go…!” It was effort to get the words out when he couldn’t move to shake D off. His lungs were burning, dying within his collapsing chest. He wondered just how he’d been like this: he was so light-headed, it was difficult to think what to do.
There was no response from D, except a further tightening of his arms. Leon closed his eyes against the pain. That was a mistake.
“D, please!” It was increasingly difficult to get words out. His limbs numb now and his head was swimming in a pale red haze that screamed ‘danger.’
“..D..” This time he didn’t expect an answer, but he wasn’t giving up. This wasn’t the way he had planned to die, even if it was in his own bed….His nostrils widened as he tried to fight the red haze.
Shit.
“T-chan!” Leon bellowed but it was not much more than a whisper in the dark, almost soundless. D’s arms clenched, flinching at the stifled sound and Leon nearly swooned, the haze gathering with a vengeance.
“Tetsu!” Please! Someone had to help him, save him, or he wouldn’t be alive to see their child, or finish his work in the study, or hold D ever again--
The bedroom door slammed open and T-chan was there, grasping D’s wrists, forcing them open with inhuman strength so that Leon could fall back, dragging great draughts of air into his starved lungs at last. A rib snapped back into place, popping from the release of pressure and he doubled over, reduced to painful panting when he only wanted to be able breathe clearly again, enjoy the rush of oxygen that flowed back into his blood, his brain. D fell back too, wild eyes open now and staring at Leon in utter horror, flicking to T-chan’s grim expression, and then back again, to his lover panting blue-lipped beside him. His horrified face crumpled as he curled into a ball, wrapping those killer arms about himself this time and rocking in an agony of anguished regret.
“For..give..me…For..give me…I am …so…sorry, Le...on.” Tears trickled down his shocked face and Leon reached out automatically, to grab him and comfort him but T-chan stopped him mid-motion with a hard twist on his bare shoulder, hauling him back from temptation. Staring, still half-hoping this was just a nightmare, Leon saw there was blood on D’s white chin and wondered vaguely where it came from. He would wipe it off and calm him and then call Q-chan-Leon reached out again to the trembling D.
“No, idiot! He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Leon. Don’t touch him!”
“But why..?” Leon glanced down at his bare chest, suddenly aware of another pain, a damp sharp twinge somewhere on his bruised chest. Blood seeped in long trickles from a deep half-moon bite scarring the smooth skin above his left nipple. Blood? Why blood?
“What’s going on, D? What is it?” D said nothing, only whimpered and hugged himself harder, and the terrible fear filled Leon’s mind - D was dying, dying and he could do nothing. The baby would kill him and Leon would only be able to watch, helpless, useless, again.
“No!” He lurched forward once more, not thinking, to get to D and rouse him - them - from this nightmare, but Tetsu shook him violently, howling “Not again!” in his deafened ear and grasped Leon’s shoulders so hard that his sharp nails dug in, and Leon’s head whipped back and forth on his bruised neck. His mind hung there in mid-air for a second and than snapped back into some semblance of its normal shape. This wasn’t his mom, this was D and D was strong, and kami’s could do this and live. He couldn’t help, he knew that, but Q-chan--
“We have to call Grandfather! T-chan, get the fucking phone!” Shouting hurt his ribs - there were at least two broken, he could feel it - but it made him feel marginally better.
“I am here, Leon.”
The elder D stood in the open door, his hood back, cloak parted to reveal a slim Chinese tunic in cream and gold, and Leon swung his head around in amazed relief. Thank god, thank god, he thought and would have kissed those little black slippers in gratitude, but he was still firmly in Tetsu’s grasp.
“Zu Fu,” D’s voice was weak and reedy, “You...must...help...me…I…cannot…” A feeble hand fisted and he arched suddenly, back rising up from the bed, and screamed. The eldritch sound nearly shattered Leon’s eardrums. He wrenched out of Tetsu’s hold and dove forward, pulling the suffering kami into his arms, kissing his wet face and rumpled hair wildly, sobbing himself now because it hurt so and he could do nothing.
“Q-chan, Q-chan, make it stop, damn it, I beg you. Make him stop!”
“Yes, yes - that’s why I’m here, Leon. Ten-chan, bring my bag, and you, Leon, unhand him. You’ll need to get out of the way, please.” Grandfather’s calm voice was a hypnotic balm, inarguable, soothing wild kami and frantic human alike, and Tetsu reached forward again and was able to loosen Leon’s death grip on D.
“Come on, let go. You’re not helping here, Leon.” He tugged firmly and Leon gradually released D, sitting up as D subsided weakly on the blood-smeared pillows, the spasm ending as abruptly as it began. The Count and Ten-chan moved into the room, eyes intent on their patient. Ten carried a black strapped bag, reminiscent of an old-fashioned doctor’s carryall, and a steaming bowl of water, a pile of white towels draped over one arm.
“You can do something, Grandfather? Help him?” Leon’s head was still ringing, his ribs hurt, and the still-bleeding wound stung, but he had no time to think of that. The only thing was D, quieter now at last, his odd eyes fixed on his Grandfather.
“Yes, of course, Leon. That’s what I’m here for. Now go away, please.” The Count reached out for the black bag Ten-chan handed him and took out a little jar of something. Leon heaved a tremendous sigh of relief - which hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, ‘cause it stretched the ripped skin on his breast and wrenched those poor broken ribs - and scrambled ungracefully off the bed, he and the Totetsu moving back as one to let the Count through.
“Put some clothes on, Detective. I am in no mood to enjoy that,” The Count said in passing, already reaching out a hand to D’s brow.
“Wha-Oh! Sorry.”
A grinning Tetsu handed him his dusty jeans and T-shirt off the chair where he’d left them and Leon turned his back to them for a moment, hustling into his clothes. The kami lit incense while he wasn’t looking and a drowsy sweet scent filled the air almost immediately, billowing in vaporous clouds around the bed. D breathed it in and visibly relaxed, the harsh lines of his strained face settling back into their accustomed calm, his wracked limbs straightening out from the fetal curl he’d regressed to after that last horrible episode. A warm washcloth was laid on his head and the Count wiped the streaks of Leon’s blood away with another, courtesy of Ten-chan, who dispensed them with a professional air. Leon’s heart rate slowed back to normal as he watched D respond to the Count’s gentle touch, and the pain in his ribs sprang front and center, no longer something to be ignored. He felt them gingerly, rubbing a hand down the side with the bite. The bleeding had stopped, but it stained through his shirt, and the fabric clung to his skin.
“Is he-?” Leon gulped past the frog stuck in his dry throat. “Is it time, Grandfather?”
“Oh, yes. Past time. Correct, my grandson?” D nodded and a faint smile lit his face. Leon surged forward involuntarily at the sight of it and T-chan snagged him again, spinning him around toward the open door.
“Enough of that. Out you go!”
“Wait! I wanna stay here, Q-chan - you can’t chase me out! D, tell him--!” But T-chan was frog-marching him and D didn’t call him back, and when the door closed with an unmistakable air of finality Leon knew he wasn’t getting back in anytime soon.
Fucking Q-chan. Wonderful Q-chan. Leon would ask him later how he knew. Right now, it was enough that he was here, doing what ever the hell needed to be done to deliver their baby safely into this world, and keep D alive and well. Just the last would be enough, he thought.
“This way, Leon. We’ve got a visitor.” He was frog-marched all the way down the hallway, but he’d long since given up resisting. Pon-chan opened the door to the parlor with military precision as they arrived and Tetsu shoved him in, so he stumbled. He stopped short in mid-stumble- there was indeed a visitor, one he really should have expected.
“Ah, Mr. Detective!” The young boy stood up and tucked his chin-length black hair behind his ears in a careless fashion, coming across the room to greet Leon. His royal purple eyes were smiling, full of childish glee, and Leon stumbled again, this time verbally, his mouth open but not actually functioning. What the hell was he supposed to call this one? Papa D, Count D…or just D? Or wait, this kid was supposed to be human - maybe he had some other name, a human name, like Ted or Fred or something.
“D, Mr. Detective. I am none other.” The lispy voice was nothing like what Leon remembered from the penthouse. It was sweet and high, and surprisingly innocent. He sure as shit hoped Papa “D” here had gotten over his need to wipe out humanity or they’d be in for a long, uncomfortable wait.
“Leon, tea.” Pon-chan forced a paper-thin cup into his hand and he fell gracelessly into the armchair, gathering what remained of his wits. His ribs hurt and so did the wound on his chest, every time he moved. His D could do a lot of damage without even half trying, damn it. He’d better be strong enough to give birth.
They had better not take too long in the bedroom or he was going to be in there, T-chan or no T-chan.
“Okay, ‘D’. I guess I should say ‘hi, how are you?’, huh, since you’re already here? Or whatever the polite thing is, right? How’d you guys get here so fast, anyway?” He was curious about that. He and D used the subways and the incredible train system that Tokyo rightfully boasted of. Or plain old feet. Nothing that would weird him out, like walking through clouds or riding on the back of a kirin. He knew for a fact Q-chan and Fath-er, young ‘D’ were based in Washington, D.C., which was what, just the few thousand miles away, right? They’d talked to the Count around 5 pm, Japan time. There was no way in hell any plane could make that; probably not even a Blackbird could make that. Ruling out the logical (which he found himself doing a hell of a lot anymore, what with living in the Shop), that left teleportation or ‘magic’ or something. Hell, maybe they’d used that damned boat he’d been kicked out of.
It was really quiet back there-he couldn’t hear a fucking thing. He hoped D was alright; that the incense worked and pain was gone. He wanted to go and see-
“Father usually just takes my hand, Mr. Detective, and then we are where we need to be. It’s very simple, I think. Nothing much to it.” The child explained seriously, tilting his head to one side. He was tall for his age, which Leon guessed to be about seven, and he had a little widow’s peak where D did not. But his eyes were pure purple, like Father’s had been, and his face was definitely that of a kami…or would be, when the puppy fat melted away. Leon suddenly realized that he now had a fair idea of what the young D had looked like. His heart thumped in his chest, startling him back to attention.
“’Leon,’ okay? Call me Leon.”
“Oh, okay, Leon. Anyway, Father said that we were going and I should bring my backpack,” and here the boy proudly indicated a Spongebob backpack leaning against the couch, “so I packed up and we came.” He turned his head and stifled a yawn politely with a small somewhat grubby hand. He had no nails to speak of and his hand was not as narrow as D’s would have been at that age. He wasn’t as thin, either; his cheeks were plumper, like a human child’s, and had a healthy glow, very unlike his D’s porcelain skin. When the little boy yawned again, barely hiding it this time, Leon realized the D before him truly was a child now, an excessively tired one who was allowed up way too late, even if he was the spitting image of his old self in miniature.
Maybe he’s happier now…now that he’s been reborn.
Leon hoped so. From the vantage of seven years later he had realized that only thing that prevented him from finding D sooner was his own frailty - his lingering regrets, and his cowardice, his overwhelming fear of rejection and his burden of sins that weren’t his own. But he did own up to one big one: he had killed D’s father. All the other sins paled beside it.
D never mentioned it, not once, and it had only cast a shadow in his own mind. Sure, there had been circumstances that allowed his cold-blooded action to be called ‘self-defense.’ But he knew, he knew that it could have been different, if only Agent Howell had not fired, if only Father D had not threatened his brother and all of humanity. He’d been watching D’s face when his Father had fallen, riddled with Vesca’s bullets, and had castigated himself even as he pulled the trigger, not knowing what else to do, but doing, even if it was wrong. The arc of that bullet had stolen his last faint hope that D would ever allow him back in his world of ‘love and dreams’. It had been so very hard to be ‘saved’ after that, only to be thrown away again. It was not until a long time later that he found ‘hope’ again, in a child’s drawing of a shopkeeper’s smile.
Poor Father, to feel such despair that he could only think to retaliate like that. Poor Father, who believed that death was preferable to continuing a lonely and meaningless life. He hoped to god this boy would have a happier life than the one that had come before.
Leon heaved a sigh, which didn’t sting as much as he thought it would, and brought his mind to here and now. This D was exhausted and rightfully so - it was four in the morning, damn it. Leon was tired, too.
“Hey, kid, I bet we can find you a bedroom, right, Pon-chan? You could take a little nap, rest up for the big event. I’ll wake you up when the baby’s born, how’s that?” Leon heaved himself up, not noticing his ribs as much, and put a hand out, feeling oddly brotherly…or maybe ‘fatherly’. Was he a father yet? How much longer did he have to wait?
“I’m not tired, Leon! Papa said I could stay up if I wanted to and that’s what I’m going to do.” The boy was firm about that. He crossed his arms and shook his head, frowning. “Because I miss D, Mr. De-Leon. He never calls me or talks to me like he does with Papa. I wanna see him before he sleeps - and the baby, I want to see the baby…” Which would have been fine, but the kid’s lids were sagging and it was clear he wouldn’t make the wait. Oh Christ. Now what to do?
He remembered what Chris liked, when he was too excited to sleep. Hell, it might work, even with this self-possessed little person.
Leon asked Pon-chan in a quiet voice to get a blanket, only half-listening to the boy babble on about babies and D. He sauntered over and sat down next the young D on the couch, scooting his unresisting little body over till he rested against Leon’s shoulder. Pon-chan brought a blanket and covered him up and, after a long minute, Little D smiled.
“Warm. This is nice, Leon. Papa does this too.” His eyes drifted shut with that and Leon stuck a casual arm around him, so he wouldn’t keel over, and wondered what it would be like to do this for his own kid. He was glad Q-chan was doing it for the boy. Little D wasn’t so bad, really. Much better than his old self. He hadn’t said anything smarmy or cutting; hadn’t even brought up the fact that Leon was a hated human. Did he even remember his past?
“Are you really a daddy now?” Wasn’t he asleep yet?
“Yeah, well, I will be. That good enough?”
“Do you like it? Being a Papa?”
“Yeah. I guess I do, even though it was...kind of...a surprise at first. I think it’s pretty cool we managed to make a baby.” Leon glanced down at the kid’s face. It had gone still and austere and he nearly let go of him in shock. The pale lids were closed tight, a long fringe of midnight lashes sweeping each cheek, but he was frowning fiercely and the voice that issued from his rosebud lips was eerily familiar.
“I was afraid.”
“Pardon?” Huh? Who the hell was this?
“I feared it, so much so that my Father took my child.” Leon stared. This was no little boy’s voice. He knew it too well. He had not wanted to hear it again, not in this lifetime, not this momentous night, while D suffered in childbirth not too far away.
“Do you regret it?” His own cracked as he asked, from nervousness, maybe, but he’d always wanted to know about that. There had been too many incidents not to be convinced that D had been badly hurt by that early abandonment. Leon hated that D had been amazed that he wanted this kid, his kid.
“No, I do not. I regret that I wasted my time, worrying. Father did a better job than I ever could. I should have just let him be. I should not have tried.”
“Q-chan did a pretty good job, yeah. I guess. But you loved your son, right?”
“Oh yes. In death and in life. I would like to see him now, if only he would allow it.”
“Even if he’s shacking up with a human, Count?” It was harsh, but it needed to be said.
“Oh, my, you are a crude one, Mr. Detective.” Theunearthly giggle made Leon’s skin crawl. “But yes, even then.”
Pon-chan was staring, mouth open, from her perch on the armchair. She hadn’t uttered so much as squeak since the little boy had changed. Leon had almost forgotten she was in the room. He wondered what she made of this…what he made of it, since it was just too weird, too sad. Did Q-chan realize what went on with this kid? That he carried within him all of his terrible past, all too clearly visible to the unsuspecting? Or maybe it only happened when he was tired, or on special occasions, like his grandson’s birth. Leon slowly shook his head back and forth. This was too confusing, and it was late - or rather, very early, and he was too tired to deal with the ramifications of that.
The boy’s face had become anxious now, the frown turning petulant. He shifted restlessly against Leon’s side and then opened his eyes, to peer suspiciously up at Leon beside him.
“You promise to wake me, yes?” Purple slits stared determinedly up and Leon paused and then nodded, finding his voice again, clearing his throat.
“Yeah, yeah. Sleep, ok? I’ll wake you, don’t worry.” The youngest D smiled again, this time with all the charm of his elders, and slid finally into the heavy sleep of a real child. Leon tried not to think about that, or at least not too hard.
Pon-chan left the armchair silently, and climbed up on Little D’s other side. She leaned toward Leon across the blanket, hands nervous in her lap.
“Is the Count alright, Leon? T-chan said it was terrible.” She frowned and nervously twisted a golden curl. She was clearly upset. So was he, for that matter.
“Yeah, it was, um, a little hairy there for a while, but I think Q-chan got him straightened out. He’ll be ok, Pon-chan, don’t worry.” Leon reached up absent-mindedly to scratch his chest and barely noticed the ridge of a scab under his T-shirt. He wanted to go back, maybe listen at the door, but he was currently trapped.
“Here.” T-chan appeared and shoved a large tumbler of brown liquid in his face and Leon grabbed it with his free hand. The spirit’s aroma crawled up his nostrils and whispered around his brain, recalling memories of long ago. Maybe the fumes would wipe out some of the stuff that had happened so far on this very weird night, but Leon didn’t really believe that. Alcohol wasn’t strong enough.
“Glenlivet? Seriously, T-chan? Where the hell did we get this?” He sipped, a tiny taste that sent his tongue into ecstasy and than tore down his throat like the devil. Perfect. Exactly what he needed. Good for shock and all that.
“The Count brought it with him. And some other stuff, for the baby, he said.” T-chan pointed and Leon noticed packages strewed around the shadowy recesses of the parlor. His eyes widened.
“Is that a bassinet or a pram, T-chan? That big one over there,” Leon gestured with his glass, sloshing. His ribs didn’t hurt at all now and he was feeling rather better. Little D slept beside him, undisturbed.
“Don’t know, Leon. Baby stuff is not my gig. Hey, you want me to move him now?” T-chan nodded toward the sleeping boy. “The Count’s got a room all picked out for him.”
“Nah. Not just yet. You gotta give ‘em twenty minutes, otherwise they wake up and won’t go back to sleep at all. Learned that from Chris.” He glanced down at dark head nestled into his armpit and smiled at the tiny snore. That was better.
“He’s fine for now. But, look, Tet, maybe you could just go down the hall and poke your head in, see if D wants me to come?”
“Not a chance, Mr. Detective. I value my life, even if you do not!”
“I’ll go, Leon! I wanna see what’s happening!” Pon-chan bounced off the couch and headed out the door, too fast for T-chan to call her back. He shook his head and went to get the tea tray, gathering dirty cups.
“Hey, T-chan, you know anything about kamis?’ Leon idly took another small sip, deciding idly that it was the last one. He didn’t need it anymore.
“Like what?” T-chan lounged against the door into the kitchen, loaded tray in one hand, Glenlivet bottle in the other. Leon looked at those hands and thanked them, but under his breath. If Tetsu had any idea just how grateful he was, he’d never live it down.
“Like how they reproduce? Give birth, have little kamis - you know, stuff like that?”
“You’re grasping at straws, Mr. Detective. I only know they are revered, like the Scared Beasts…and that you, Leon, are very, very lucky.” He showed his teeth and Leon stared, and blinked.
“You want some more of this?” T-chan waved the bottle.
“No, no. I’m good. Think I’ll go set up the nursery - we got a screwdriver?” T-chan laughed on his way into the kitchen.
How long had it been? An hour? More? He wanted Pon-chan to come back, or someone, anyone, who could distract him. How long did it take?
He cast his mind back, to the myths that had been stuffed into his head during that Gen Lit class, to the Hercules movie he watched with Chris. How did gods give birth? Sparkles and fanfare? Or blood and suffering and unimaginable pain, if the child was tainted with mortal blood?
He just needed to go back there, listen at the door, that’s all. Wouldn’t take a minute, and he’d put little D to bed on the way. He had to wait, though, or the boy would wake up and he wasn’t sure he could talk to him just yet. The presence of Father had been a little too much for someone who was just recovering from near-suffocation…among other things.
It had been especially long, those last few months. D was cranky and they never had sex, though he’d done handjobs and blowjobs and everything he could think of, trying to make it easier for D, give him some pleasure to lay over the pain. Trying to show him how much he was wanted, needed, ‘cause sometimes Leon felt his words didn’t get through. He wasn’t good with words anyway. They made him uncomfortable, like he was begging…and the truth of it scared him. He would beg if he had to, or do anything, no matter how trivial or humiliating, if D just stayed healthy and interested…and if the baby came sometime this century.
Leon spent some time praying then, though he wouldn’t have been able to tell who he prayed to, or whether he actually believed it would help. He had met gods, had tea with them even, and he knew there were limits to godhead. They could not stop death or make someone love - they could only watch over…or prop up, faithful hounds under their master’s hands. But he hoped they would listen, at least. It couldn’t hurt to watch over one of their own.
They already were, in fact. Q-chan was with D, and Ten-chan. Probably Pon and Honlon and all the ladies, lions, tigers and bears - all of them, just like the day he’d found D sleeping off the aftershock, the first time Q-chan had come to visit.
Leon smiled at the thought, and it was a kami’s smile, though he didn’t realize it.
It was time.
He put his glass down, gently so it didn’t clink, and tucked the blanket around the boy. Shifting, he slid one arm under the kid’s knees and tightened the other round the small shoulders, ready to move.
“I’ll do that, Leon.” T-chan was beside him in that annoying way he had, and Leon froze so that his startled jolt wouldn’t wake the boy. A little fumble and then Little D was up in the air, safe in T-chan’s arms. Leon sat back and glared at his curly-horned foe, foiled again.
“It’s all good, Leon. The Count says everything is just fine.” Pon-chan was back, skipping through the door, cocking her head to catch T-chan’s inaudible comment as he left the room.
“Great! That’s great, Pon-chan. So I’ll just go back and see-“
“The Count doesn’t want you there, Leon.”
“The Count? Which Count, Pon-chan?” Goddamn it to hell. This was killing him!
Pon-chan moved off, conveniently avoiding Leon’s question, and went over to examine the packages.
“Oh, there’s diapers, Leon! And a mobile and some blankets…and here’s some little tiny clothes. So cute! Oh, what’s this big one?”
Goddamn it to hell! Leon inched forward, slinking off the couch and sidling round it toward the door. In a second, he’d be free and clear and nothing was going to stop him this time-
“Misster Detective? Vhere are you going? The Count has not allowed vissitorss yet.” A woman built along the lines of a Valkryie Maiden stood suddenly in the open doorway, effectively blocking Leon’s escape.
“Ssit, pleasse, Misster Detective. You are not vanted yet.” Leon backed up a step. The tall blonde woman wore a clingy green spangled dress that screamed ‘sexy’ but she could likely snap him in two. Those bare shoulders and smooth arms barely disguised pure muscle. He had the distinct feeling that if he’d met her in the old Shop he would’ve seen big crocodilian teeth to go with the slight sibilance he’d picked up on.
“Uh, no, ma’am, I don’t think-“ Leon began but was interrupted a second time.
“Now, now, Velda, you mustn’t frighten the boy! He’s only anxious, I suppose, and he should be, don’t you think?” There was another woman crowding through the door, this one just as tall as the Valkyrie but with tawny streaks in her long honey hair and brilliant green eyes that unwillingly fascinated the impatient Leon. This lady was drop-dead gorgeous, a knock-out, a goddess, fit for his wall - but a Juno, for her jaw was set in iron and her back ramrod straight.
“I know I always worried too, dear, when the babies came. Give him a tiny little break, will you, darling?” She brushed past Leon and the chastened Velda, a cool hand caressing his cheek as she passed. Leon was enveloped in a cloud of the sweetest perfume.
“Such a sweet boy, aren’t you? Well, where’s the champagne, Pon-Pon, my dearest girl? Break it out, would you! Time to celebrate!”
“Ah, thanks, ma’am,” Leon wasn’t sure what else to say, if that even required a response, but in any case there was opening at the doorway now that Velda and the leonine lady had moved, and he stepped toward it desperately, nearly slamming into a petite black lady of matronly years.
Shit! He wasn’t here to play Red Light, Green Light, damn it! They had all better just get the fuck out of his way!
“Watch where you’re going, young man! You don’t have to be in such a big hurry - he’s not going to disappear!” Her crow’s feet crinkled good-naturedly and she walloped Leon on the back, practically sending him flying into the hallway. “Best be on your way, little man - they’re waiting for you.”
Leon found his feet and lurched forward, screaming down the hall at mach speed. Finally, finally, he was allowed to see D - would see them, cause it seemed his kid was here at last and if the Pets were celebrating, than it had to be a good thing, right? Right!
He fetched up before the bedroom door, still firmly closed, and Ten-chan, now garbed in a Goth nurse outfit (fishnet white stockings and little white cap), in deference to the occasion, no doubt.
“Uh, uh, uh, Leon - not so fast! What’s the magic word, daddy-o?”
Shit, damn it, shit! Like he had time for this!
“Look, Ten-chan--!”
“Nope, not till you say the ‘magic word’, Mr. Detective. Don’t even try,” Ten-chan grinned and crossed his knee-high white vinyl platform boots at the ankles, leaning firmly back against the door. Leon recognized an immovable object when he saw it.
“Ok, ok, I get it. Fine, I’ll bite.” Leon frowned hard. He wasn’t exactly in the mind-set to play games, but there was no help for it.
“Alright, how ‘bout ‘open sesame’? Will that work?”
“Nope, not even close.”
“Count D.”
“No, no! Try again, Detective,” Ten-chan giggled and Leon wanted to slap him, hard.
“Um…’Father’.”
Ten-chan shook his head.
“Please? Come on, Ten-chan, I’ve waited long enough; I wanna see him-“
“Ah, you got it, Leon! Good work! Go right on in, Mr. Detective.” Grinning at his own joke, Ten-chan swept open the door with a flourish and Leon leapt through, not waiting for Foxy Boy to come up with anything else, or for Tetsu to appear and get in his way, or anyone else for that matter.
He was in, finally, and what he saw in the brilliant haze of the candelabra and the first faint light of dawn more than made up for all the waiting.
END