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Define Arc	By : BlackberryPatch Category: +M to R > Pet Shop of Horrors Views: 8525 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Desecration
- 2-Despot
- 3-Damask
- 4-Definition
- 5-Damsel
- 6-Dearth
- 7-Dirigere
- 8-Disturbance
- 9-Decadence
- 10-Disease
- 11-Draht
- 12-Darkness
- 13-Dva
- 14-Daguerreotype
- 15-Draconigenae
- 16-Deification
- 17-Deviant
- 18-Doyoubi
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors and I am making no money from this or any other fan related work.

Warnings: physical abuse, mind control, language, oral, and Leon-under-the-influence-of-something-being-an-absolute-prick.

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"Despot"

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"Yeah, thanks Jill! I'll see you later!" Leon waved to the other detective as he walked out of the station and started on his way home. He was looking forward to this evening- he'd gotten off early and he was planning on going over to spend some time with Chris. And D. Not that the fact that the Count was going to be there had any affect whatsoever on his decision...

So yeah, maybe it did. Ever since that night a couple weeks ago when he'd killed Sol Pyr, noted computer businessman and apparent psychopath, and when, more importantly, he and D had... deepened their relationship, he'd really enjoyed spending time with the Count. They hadn't really done anything since then- they barely even touched- but something was different between them now. More... comfortable. It wasn't really anything he could explain, but going to the pet shop and just being with D was now his favorite non-work related activity.

He arrived at his apartment, to shower and change before going over to the pet shop, and was surprised to find a package sitting in front of his door. He frowned at it, but took it inside with him, kicking the door shut behind him. It smelled weird, and something about it was very familiar; he opened it to reveal a small plant with long, slender leaves, almost like a willow, and light yellow flowers.

"What the hell is this supposed to be, huh D?" he mumbled to himself, never once questioning the origin of the package, even though it had no card or return address. "Whatever. I'm sure he'll explain it to me when I see him later." Leon left the plant on the counter and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

He didn't notice the golden yellow pollen that the plant released into the air, which drifted through the air, following Leon into the bathroom, through the door he'd left open. He didn't notice it until he inhaled some, then choked violently as it caught in his throat.

"Fuck. What was that?" But his curiosity was only fleeting, and his shower was ready, and all thoughts of mysterious doorstep plants drifted out of his mind.

-o-o-o-o-

My son,

I have been watching you for some time now, and I have noticed a certain laxness in your enthusiasm for our cause as of late, especially considering some of the situations in which you have found yourself. I have taken the liberty of distributing a... "gift" I suppose you could call it, to help you. It should assist you in remembering why we are here, and why our dedication to our cause should never falter. Do not be fooled by the humans. Do not be taken in by their apparent harmlessness.

Do not forget what they are capable of.

-o-o-o-o-

D crumpled the paper in his hand. "Chris?" he called out worriedly, but the boy's head soon popped out from behind a door.

"Is Big Bro here yet?" he asked excitedly.

D smiled. "No, not yet Chris. Why don't you go back to playing and I'll have Q-chan tell you when Leon arrives?"

"Alright!" Chris smiled and D watched him as he darted back into the depths of the pet shop.

"T-chan?" The totetsu looked up at him. "Keep an eye on Chris. I... have a feeling." T-chan nodded and followed after Chris with his customary glare firmly in place.

Preparing tea was something D could do almost without any thought at all, and as he put together the afternoon meal his mind was occupied by his father's message. It worried him; more than he cared to say. And yet... was the warning really about Chris? Chris, or T-chan or Pon-chan, hadn't said anything about a "gift." Maybe Chris wasn't the target. D didn't want anything to happen to Chris. The boy was innocent- or as much so as any member of his race could be- and more than that, he meant a lot to Leon.

Leon. Was that it? Was Leon the real reason D didn't want to lose Chris? Because as long as the boy was here, Leon would always come to see him. And D could see Leon.

He wanted to see Leon. It was a strange feeling, but he trusted the detective. Well, perhaps not to see D's point of view, but... The purpose Leon had given his life to was not so different from D's own, just the opposite side. If he looked at it backwards, D could almost see where Leon was coming from. And the detective had fire! Maybe it was his passion, however simpleminded, that attracted D. And the way he extended it to whoever was in need, without reservations.

D heard the door open behind him and turned with a smile. The shop was closed for the day; there was only one person he was expecting. However, when he laid eyes on Leon he frowned in concern.

"Are you alright Detective? You don't look well." D went to Leon's side and put a hand to his forehead.

He was so taken off guard, that when Leon's hand shot up and wrapped its finger around his throat, D could only gape at him in astonishment. His own hands came up automatically, and he pulled at Leon's arm as he gasped for breath. Leon's head came up and the eyes he turned on D were cloudy and yellow and full of hatred.

"What are you?" Despite his out of character behavior and strange eyes,
Leon's voice was unsettlingly familiar. "What are you?" the detective repeated. "Worm." He flung D away from him, sending his body sliding
and rolling across the floor until he smacked up against a leg of the table.

Choking for breathe, D put a hand to his bruised neck as he turned wide eyes on Leon and his father's message came back to him. "No," he whispered in firm but hopeless denial. "He didn't... No." Leaning against the table behind him, D pulled himself to his feet. Leon was walking toward him. Q-chan fluttered worriedly next to him, and D turned quickly to him. "Chris can't see this," he said urgently to Q-chan. "Take him somewhere, deep inside the pet shop, but he can't see Leon like this." Q-chan squee-ed unhappily, but obeyed, darting swiftly away through the air.

D watched him go for a moment, then turned back toward Leon just in time for the detective to belt him across the face. D fell to his knees; the force of the blow had spun him around, and the only thing keeping him from lying sprawled on the floor was his arms clutching at the top of the table. Leon's hand closed around one of his wrists and pulled him violently to his feet. He could feel Leon breathing hotly against the back of his neck. "What do you think you're doing, huh?" He twisted D's arm behind him sharply. D suppressed a cry of pain, pressing his lips into a thin line. Leon turned him around, so that D faced him, and sneered in his face, "What do you think you are?" D narrowed his eyes, and, bringing up his other hand- that Leon had apparently forgotten about- raked his nails fiercely across Leon's face.

Screaming in outrage, Leon threw D away from him, sending the slighter man stumbling backward, along the edge of the table. Leon pressed a hand against the blood
trickling down his face, glaring evilly at D through his fingers. D tried not to let his disappointment show; he'd hoped that the sudden pain would drag Leon out of whatever trance he was in.

"Thinks it's important, doesn't it? Worm." Leon's voice hissed out from behind the bloodied fingers. He moved toward D again; D moved around the table he'd been standing next to, putting it between himself and Leon
as he continued to watch Leon warily. He had to find a way to incapacitate the detective until he could figure out what was wrong with him and figure out how to undo it. His brain refused to consider the far more likely option that there was no way to reverse whatever his father had done to Leon, and that the only way to incapacitate him would be to kill him.

Thinking distracted him; D was a fraction too slow to dodge the bloody hand that shot out, straight across the table, and grabbed him by the throat again. "Thinks it's special." Leon dragged D's body across the table, sending the tea dishes scattering everywhere.
"You are special." He touched a finger of his other hand to D's cheek and trailed it down, across his chest. "Thinks it's... human." He cocked his head, the amused, cloudy yellow eyes regarded D as the count struggled for breath, his own hands clawing wildly at Leon's fingers around his throat. "You blend well enough. But still... there's something that's not... quite... right." The finger on his chest skipped its way lower with Leon's words until the hand cupped D between his legs. "Are you a man?"

D gasped soundlessly, his vision going dark around the edges as he panted for the air that he wasn't getting. Suddenly, out of the growing darkness around him, he heard Leon laughing, then his head was slammed viciously against the table, but D almost didn't mind the pain and dizziness because the hand was gone from his throat and he could breathe again.

He breathed, as deeply and quickly as possible, as if afraid that the air would disappear again and he had to breathe as much of it as possible before it was cut off. His vision cleared, and D suddenly moaned in pleasure as he became aware of something else; his cock was hard and erect and Leon was mouthing him through his clothing.

"What..." D managed to get out before he moaned again. He tried to move one of his hands, and discovered that Leon had them both pinned tightly above D's head. The sensation of being trapped helped him to focus, hold onto his sanity a moment longer, and try to figure out what to do. He didn't want to hurt Leon... And as Leon's grip tightened painfully around his wrists he realized that that was what this was all about.

Leon laughed darkly. "Does it like that?" His mouth returned to giving attention to D's groin, and D's hips bucked up against Leon as D moaned helplessly. He didn't want... Suddenly, Leon was pulling D toward him, off the table, with the bruising grip he had on the Count's wrists. "Thought you might get off easy, huh?" Grabbing D brutally by the hair, he forced the smaller man to his knees before him.

Still dazed from the blow to his head, as well as other pains throughout his body, D blinked several times before he realized he knelt with his face to Leon's groin. Leon pressed D against himself, rubbing D's face against his jeans clad groin. D's lip curled in distaste as the fabric brought him old smells of unwashed human and his hands balled into fists against Leon's thighs; then his fingers uncurled slowly and his nails pricked against the skin underneath the cloth. He was about to dig them deeper when Leon let out a cry and half flung D away from him, sending him sprawling across the floor.

D glanced up to see Leon shaking a determined looking Pon-chan by the back of the neck. Picking words out from among the swearing, D realized she must have snuck up on Leon and bitten him. Though she must have been in pain, with the position she was in, she was baring her teeth defiantly at Leon.

"No!" D cried out, addressing the comment to both parties, neither of which listened to him. Darting forward he grabbed Leon by the wrist, dug in his nails, and forced him to release Pon-chan. With a cry of outrage and pain, Leon flung D away from him. The Count slammed into a wall behind him, his vision flickering at the second of two rather vicious blows to the head of the day. "No Pon-chan," he murmured, "don't hurt him. He is still Leon."
"He hurts you," Pon-chan growled, her logic irrefutable, simplistic- animal.

But D would have none of it. "No. My father hurts me. He does this." Another damned mess to clean up, courtesy of his father and his single-minded war. D looked up, meeting Leon�s eyes. "Father," he said, "you are wrong. Not all humans are like this. It is you who are the tyrant, the despot, if you act in this manner. They can learn, some of them, and... they can be," his voice faltered, "kind." He shook his head. "They are not like this. Leon is not like this." He pushed himself to his feet determinedly, using the wall as a support.

Leon laughed. "You think you know what's in my heart?" Stepping forward he grabbed D by the wrist again and shoved his back against the wall roughly. Grinning maniacally, he squeezed D's wrist in his hand, until D could no longer suppress a whimper of pain, followed by a louder outcry which almost drowned out the snapping of bones.

Leon released him and D cradled his arm against his chest. "Leon..." he
murmured, but Leon grabbed him by the back of the neck and spun him around, shoving his face against the wall.

"'Leon,"' he mimicked, pressing himself against D's back and snapping his hips forward against D suggestively which rubbed D's
lagging erection against the wall.

D moaned, but with pain more than anything else, and he closed his eyes. "Leon," he whispered again. "I can't. I can't hate you. More than that, I will not play my father's games."

D felt the man behind him go still, and then shudder violently. Suddenly the pressure behind him was gone, and D whirled around. Leon had stumbled backwards a few steps, and he stood shaking his head confusedly, occasionally passing his hand over his eyes. "Whoa. What the fuck?" He looked up. "D? What happened?"

D sagged against the wall in relief, but as Leon looked around he seemed to remember what had just happened. His eyes widened as he looked back at the count. "D?" he said, his voice small, pleading. "Oh God." He started to fall to his knees, but propelled himself backward, forcing himself to leave before he could do anything else.

"Wait! Leon!" D called after him.

Leon froze, his hand on the front door, and collapsed to his knees. "I... I'm sorry, oh God. I didn't... I'm so sorry. D..."

"Leon." The detective looked over at him, the pain on his face matching D's. "It wasn't you." Leon shook his head violently and started to leave again. "Leon!" D cried desperately. "Stay."

Pausing again in the doorway, Leon turned. "No, I might... Shit D, how come I'm not dead? I'd have thought those monsters you keep around here would have torn me to bits." He sounded as if that would have been a preferable fate.

"It wasn't you," D repeated.

"But I..." Leon paused. "There was a strange plant, by my door, when I got home. I thought it was from you." He looked up at the Count, confusion on his face.

D shook his head, denying that the plant came from him. And damn his father for playing on Leon's trust of him in order to trick the detective into becoming an instrument of his sadistic punishment, and D's hands curled into fists, but the motion sent pain running up his arm and through his body. Crisis over, his body was too weak to resist the quiet moan of pain that escaped his lips.

The sound brought Leon over to him, and as harsh as the detective's touch had been before, now it was so gentle that D barely felt him. Leon gritted his teeth as he looked at the injury. "It's broken," he confirmed, his voice tight. "You need a hospital."

"No," D said quickly. Leon looked at him, then just as quickly looked away from the large bruises spreading over the Count's face. "I will be fine."

"D," Leon started, but stopped and, rising to his feet, turned and fled.

-o-o-o-o-
It had been almost a month. Leon hadn't been back to the pet shop since that day. He'd sort of tricked Jill into going over, taking some things he said he didn't have time to bring to Chris; though Chris had never really had a penchant for sugar covered, berry filled confections. Jill had asked him the next day if he knew what had happened to the Count; apparently the shop was closed, and when D had answered Jill's knock he'd looked, in her own words, "like he lost a head-butting contest with a semi truck."

Leon had denied any knowledge, promised he would go look in on D, and had gone straight home and cleaned his apartment. Yeah, he was pretty sure he was crazy, but he needed to do something, and there wasn't anything else to do that didn't involve going out somewhere and he didn't want to be around people. He still wasn't quite sure what had happened to him, what had made him attack D like that, but he most definitely did not want it happening again.

That was about three weeks ago. He started spending all of his time either at work or alone in his apartment. And for some reason, he couldn't sleep, which didn't help him any.

He was pretty sure Jill was starting to worry about him, and the chief had already practically ordered him to get some drugs if he had to but get some goddamned sleep. He'd said something non-committal in return and headed home... to throw himself down on his bed and stare at the ceiling that had, in all these weeks, still not given him an answer.

Someone knocked at the door, and Leon ignored it. After knocking a second time, the person let themselves in. Leon frowned. Who had a key to his apartment? The only thing he could think of was a thief with a lock pick, which was all good to him as he wouldn't mind something distracting to do.

Too late he remembered that Chris had a key, even though he was staying with the Count.

Too late he remembered that the Count could, all too easily, borrow the key and use it to open Leon's door. He hadn't thought of that because, for the life of him, he couldn't think why D would want to see him.

Leon stood in the doorway between the main room and the bedroom and just stared at D. He looked fine, like his usual self, and he smiled softly at Leon. "What..." Leon managed to get out, but D beat him to it.

"Hello Detective," he started, his raised eyebrow admonishing Leon that he should have remembered to greet his guest before starting in on the reason of his visit. "Chris is worried about you."

Everything about him was so... so D, that Leon could almost forget what had happened between them the last time they'd met. Almost.

"I didn't think you'd want to see me," he said flatly, looking at D.

D's brow creased. "Detective," he began, but broke off as he looked around the apartment. "Have you been cleaning?" he asked in something akin to wonder.

"Feh, maybe," Leon grumbled, his arms crossed defensively as he felt a blush tinge his cheeks. However, D's smile banished all thoughts of embarrassment from his mind. It was the most open expression Leon could remember seeing on the Count's face, and he found himself unable to resist returning it.

"Well, you've proved me half right," D murmured, running a finger over a table top and smiling approvingly at the dust free surface.

"What?" Leon asked, confused by his words.

D turned and looked at him, his strange eyes looking through Leon. "My father was... displeased with me. He... influenced you, with a sort of drug, and forced you to attack me. It wasn't you Leon." Leon's eyes widened in surprise and denial of his guiltlessness, but D continued. "When he did so I told him that his attempt at... correction was doomed to failure, because I would not believe that you would attack me in such a manner. I told him all humans were not the same. That some could learn." He glanced around the cleaned apartment, and smiled.

Leon started at him. "I hurt you," he said numbly.

D's eyes narrowed, growing more piercing, if that was possible. "You feel guilt. Regret. ...Shame."

"Yes," Leon murmured, turning away.

"There are no such feelings in the animal world," the Count continued conversationally. "There is no regret. Actions are performed. Consequences are accepted." D moved to the window and looked out over the city. "Conversely there is also no malice; no destruction merely for the sake of destruction. Such a thing was conceived by humans." He looked at Leon. "And yet... compassion is also something that does not exist among animals. Or forgiveness." He came over to the detective and, taking his unresisting hand, placed something in his palm. Leon's fingers closed around it automatically, and D's strange eyes were bright when they met Leon�s. "From my hand, so you cannot doubt its origin."

Leon opened his hand and looked down at a seed. He looked up.

"We will see you tomorrow for tea?" D's voice was hopeful.

His gaze was almost hypnotic. "Sure," Leon mumbled, and then dropped his eyes.

"Wonderful," D said, and Leon looked at him again, and shockingly enough it looked like he actually meant it.

Leon's smile was tentative, but he remembered what he'd done and sorrow filled his expression. "D, I..."

A finger pressed to his lips stopped him. "I forgive you." D's voice was quiet and after he said it he slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Leon stood for a long time, one hand closed around the seed, the fingers of the other hand brushing softly over his lips.

After a time he stirred, and, going to the kitchen he grabbed the pot the first plant had come in and emptied some of the dirt into a cup. He pressed the seed into the dirt and, after sprinkling it with water, set it in the window. It could have been his imagination, but Leon was sure that already he could see a sprout.

He smiled.

-o-O-o-
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Define Arc

- "Despot" -

-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-

-o-O-o-

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"Despot"

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