Work Text:
Leon remembers when the two of them sat opposite each other and had nothing to talk about. At that time, they were more than mere acquaintances, but not friends. Neither man was willing to acknowledge the awkwardness; they simply drank their tea as if the silence was intentional, preferable even.
Leon had leaned back into the soft chair, delicately lined with intricate patterns, with one arm draped across the back of the chair and the other holding a fragile tea cup which looked like it was worth more than his monthly salary.
Count D sat across the table from him, straight-backed, with both feet on the ground. Leon watched as he held the tea cup with both hands and brought it slowly to his lips. That had been the first time he had wondered if the Count wore makeup, because surely no man had lips as soft and as well-defined as those. They were stained a gentle cherry colour, and even after the Count had finished two cups of tea the colour did not fade.
Back then, everything about the Count felt like a mystery to Leon.
And then suddenly the animals were causing a commotion, and D was standing up, turning around, and Leon was left confused as he watched D rush away in a flurry of silk robes.
It seemed to Leon that he was always chasing after the Count.
Whether it was for a criminal investigation or just out of plain curiosity, the image of D’s retreating back would arouse an immediate response from him.
And he was still chasing D.
He'd told the chief that he was chasing after the Count because he wanted evidence. He'd told Jill that he was chasing after the Count because he wanted answers. And he'd told Chris that he was chasing after the Count to bring him back.
Perhaps all of those reasons were true, Leon mused; but he wasn’t sure if those reasons alone were worth travelling all over the world for the man. Yet all he had to do was think about D’s self-assured smirk, those mismatched eyes and impossibly straight hair and Leon would know that there was no turning back.
--------------
The first place Leon searched was, of course, China. It made logical sense that D might return to his homeland after his disappearance.
He went to Beijing. Leon could almost imagine the Count seated leisurely, drinking tea in the historic palaces and serene gardens; yet, he knew almost right away after arriving, that he wouldn’t find D here. D didn’t belong among the tourists and ropes and railings.
The grandeur of the Forbidden City was not lost on Leon, but it was cold. The swarm of tourists, leaning over each other to get a glimpse or a clear camera shot, did nothing to add warmth to the emptiness beyond the railings. Cold beauty was something Jill or other people would use to describe Count D, but Leon knew better. Leon knew the way D’s eyes flashed in anger, his mocking tone, his impossible strength despite his fragile form, and the way he cared for his animals. Once, Leon had thought that D had cared for him and Chris too, but now the doubt that hung over that answer made Leon nauseous.
Leon imagined the palace full of life and colour; in his mind D was sitting down, surrounded by noblemen of the past, or in the presence of ancient royalty. His robes would still be the most vibrant in any company, and that small smirk would be the most mysterious.
A couple of days later found Leon in Shanghai; he had seen a brochure of Yu Garden with its beautiful curved roofs and a romantic view of a lonely bridge over calm water, complete with branches of willow trees framing the image.
Leon lost count of the number of times he feared for his life during the taxi ride from the airport. It wasn't as if Leon was the safest driver around, but at least he followed the road rules (most of the time). Pedestrians popping out of nowhere, ignoring red lights, and the constant peeping of horns made even a hardened cop like Leon reach for the handle above his seat with both hands. He made sure to tip the driver generously for getting him to the destination in one piece.
The gardens were beautiful, and the surrounding small streets formed a maze, weaving in between buildings with ancient architecture and bustling with people.
But none of them looked like D.
Leon went drinking and picked up a local girl with shoulder length black hair that framed her pretty face. She whispered broken English in his ears and ran her fingers through his blond hair, but her perfume made him wrinkle his nose and Leon didn’t even remember her name the next morning.
He spent a week or so just wandering the city streets, searching for a shop with the sweet smell of incense and hidden hallways.
---------
Hadn't D claim that the man-eating rabbits originated somewhere off the coast of Australia? Leon knew he was clutching at straws, but if there was even the slightest possibility that D had gone in search of more man-eating rabbits, Leon would be there to catch him.
When he arrived in the late morning, the weather was a little chilly. Stepping out of the airport, he simply told the taxi driver to take him to China Town.
China town is – a place with rare things from all different periods of time and places, or so Leon had heard. When he thought about it, it really was the perfect place for D. Leon was sure that D was setting up a shop in a China Town somewhere in the world; he just had to find the right city.
Melbourne’s China Town was small but busy, just a narrow street full of restaurants and interesting alleys that hid more restaurants.
He didn’t find a pet shop. Eventually he asked one shop owner if there were other areas where the Chinese community frequented and received a list.
Taking a walk around the Central Business District, Leon concluded that this city must love its cafés, because everywhere he looked, there was another one. He found streets and alleys lined with cafés that displayed their cakes and desserts in glass windows and offered tea ranges. D would like this city.
By late afternoon the weather had gotten so hot that Leon could almost feel his skin burning. He cursed the weather, only he must have done it out loud because the woman in the coffee line behind him laughed and told him that it was possible to have all four seasons in a day in this city.
Leon searched for a couple of days but it was futile. He asked shop after shop, but no one had seen anyone matching the distinctive description of Count D. Leon remembered how in their China Town, everyone seemed to know the Count.
On Christmas Eve, Leon found a quiet spot on the beach and considered his next destination.
-----------
Didn’t D’s grandfather have connections in Berlin? Leon remembered that D definitely spoke German.
It was a grey, but very beautiful place. Leon liked the fast pace of the city and he thought D would enjoy the abundance of history and culture. By chance he saw a familiar photograph in a shop window while wandering the streets. It was the one of D’s grandfather with his vampire friends. In his excitement, Leon grabbed the owner, a stubby man with a shocking comb-over, by the shoulders and shouted questions until the owner laughed nervously and explained that the photograph had been found by his father after the war, but that they had no more information about the photographer or the people featured. It was disappointing, but in a way Leon was happy to have found some link to D during his travels, even if it did not lead him directly to the man.
Walking past numerous cafés, Leon finally stopped to buy some cake for himself. D had made Leon want to buy sweets just so that he could see the normally cryptic and confident expression of the Court reduced to one of child-like delight. D constantly made Leon feel like he was hallucinating.
Even at the beginning of their acquaintance, before D had met Chris and Leon had been more interested in arresting the Count for drug dealing or slave trading, and was convinced that the man was connected to the Chinese Mafia, D’s smile had always thrown him off guard. On second thought, Leon still sort of suspected that D was connected to the Mafia, but he was beginning to accept that it was no longer the reason for his… fixation on the man.
---------
Then the idea hit Leon to research about strange deaths that were connected (even if in the slightest way possible) with animals. He had already searched the countries that D had connections with (that Leon was aware of). Even if D doesn't want to be found, Leon was determined to track him down by following any evidence he leaves behind. After all, wasn't that how he had found D in the first place?
There was a story on the Internet in which a young man had died with his cat on his lap. There was no signs of injury on either the man or the animal. It was a mystery.
But in the end, he didn’t stay in Romania for long. As he enjoyed his last meal in the country, he wondered what D would say if he was sitting opposite him at the table; he could almost see D’s disapproving face. The deaths were still a mystery, but Leon doubted D could ever live in a country whose foods so heavily featured meat.
-------
Another story featuring a pet snake and an owner whose body was ripped to pieces led Leon to Argentina. Only by the time he got there, the police already had the jealous and insane ex-boyfriend in custody.
Despite the case being closed, Leon decided to stay in the country for a little longer. The landscapes and beauty of nature were scenes which D would enjoy very much. Somehow Leon found himself able to appreciate the feeling of being surrounded by the natural world too. He could almost imagine D standing right beside him, looking out over the vast landscape.
He could almost imagine that this was just another one of those hallucinations; and that anytime now, he would be waking up to the smell of incense and D's knowing smile.
-----
Leon doesn’t even know why he’s worried. The guy was probably having fun with that insane sadistic dentist girlfriend of his or any of his Mafia boss boyfriends.
Only Leon had already raided the dentist’s place, under the pretence of conducting an investigation. She didn’t question him further, just smiled at him like she knew he was full of shit but had decided to indulge him. He found nothing.
The human habit of trying to understand the world with a limited knowledge of it… is beyond foolish.
And now Leon could admit that he was foolish. Foolish for embarking on this wild goose chase, foolish for wanting to find the Count so much that he had left everything without a second thought.
All Chinese people are capable of this, D had said when Leon saw him fly with his own eyes. Leon had believed him, a martial arts trick indeed. And then Leon had found himself breaking and entering on Christmas Eve, all because D had emphasised that his pet shop sold ‘love’ and ‘dreams’. Leon didn’t even want to start on the dragon that he might or might not have seen that night.
He had been played, hadn’t he? It must have been entertaining for the Count to have Leon follow him around like a lost puppy when he was there, and searching for him like an abandoned pet when he wasn’t.
---------
He was the one who was picked up this time. She found him drinking alone, in the corner of a bar in Ireland, muttering something about manipulative Asian bastards. Her hair was a fiery red colour that fell down her back in frizzy curls. She boldly took the seat next to his and brought him a drink.
She was the complete opposite of Count D. Leon returned her inviting smile with one of his own.
She had those long fake nails that Leon would once have found disgusting, but instead he studied them thoughtfully. She sat on the bed smoking a cigarette with one hand and watched Leon with a bored expression as he studied the other.
He supposed she had a pretty hand, soft with long skinny fingers. D was similar, except his had been a little larger, and paler. Most of the time they'd been covered by those long sleeves he wore, but occasionally (like when he poured tea for Leon), those thin wrists would show themselves. And Leon would be captivated – only because what man had wrists like those? Really, D was such a woman, with his nagging and overreacting. Like that time Leon had all but dragged him into a car and brought the man into the rabbit infested neighbourhood. The Count had ignored the damaged properties and bloodshed to rub gingerly at his hands, shrieking: you didn’t have to manhandle me!
But even that had been a lie hadn’t it? D could have shrugged Leon off easily at anytime. The thought that maybe D had simply been humouring him all this time made Leon’s blood boil.
Leon remembered holding onto the box with the supposed dragon egg and the way D’s eyes had narrowed dangerously at him: Orcot… I’ll take it back by force if I must… I am extremely serious. It was the first time D had called him by his name. There was none of the mocking tone that was usually attached to the way D called him Officer. Leon had no doubt that D had been completely serious at that time. He had hardly registered the sting when D lashed out at him, tearing through his shirt and skin with those nails. The sight of his own blood on D’s fingers as he brought them to his mouth, a hint of that pink tongue between his lips; that side of Count D, was something that simultaneously horrified and fascinated him, even now.
------
London saw Leon drunkenly pushing a man against the wall of a dark alleyway, not far from the pub they had both been in. The feel of a hard body against his own was strange, but not entirely unwelcome.
It was the feel of rough jeans under his hands that felt wrong. The hair was too short and Leon’s fingers felt grimy from running through the gelled mess. The hand that reached for his belt made him panic. He wanted to feel soft silk under his fingers; he expected to taste the sweetness that could only be the result of a mouth that consumed nothing but the sweetest of foods. He wanted to feel strands of hair tickle his neck; he wanted to reach up and tuck a piece of silky black hair behind pale ears to reveal that exotic golden eye…
Only when Leon opened his eyes and stared at the man in front of him, he found a pair of brown eyes staring back at him in confusion. And everything was wrong.
The realisation seemed to hit him in waves. They corresponded with the waves of nausea that made him turn away from the stranger and double over. The alcohol induced haze in his brain cleared with each heave. When Leon finally stood up and leaned against the wall again, he was alone.
-----
Sometimes, D would appear in Leon’s dreams. Often they would just be sitting in the pet shop drinking tea and bickering over Leon’s rashness or D’s suspicious associations. Once, Leon dreamed that he was in a jungle, not dissimilar to the scenery in the dream he had suspiciously shared with D at the museum, or the terror of that night at D’s father’s apartment. Hiding from dangerous animals, Leon searched for D amongst the forest of trees. In the dream Leon did not have his gun, but that didn’t bother him because hurting any animal would no doubt anger D. Leon knew that I was defending myself, it was going to eat me, would no longer be a good enough excuse for the Chinese man.
D would appear in between the foliage. His back was turned against Leon, but he face tilted just enough for Leon to make out a hint of that mysterious smile.
And then Leon would be running after him again. Both in the dream and after he had opened his eyes.
… If I were the last survivor… I don’t know what I’d do
D had said those words with his back turned towards Leon that night after they had left the museum together.
Leon might be rash and sometimes foolish, but there were moments where D was even more irrational than him. D was the one who jumped in front of dangerous animals, offering himself up just to save a couple of kittens. Leon might have nothing to offer but an egotistical sense of justice and self-satisfied heroism, but D was the one who could talk about the supposed taste of human flesh while drinking tea, yet shed tears over the thought of any danger befalling his precious pets.
Leon might be ignorant of the laws of the forest, but in this … game between him and Count D, Leon would never choose to be the winner if it meant being left behind. He never wanted to be the last survivor; because now he wasn’t sure what he would do either.
-----
Whenever Leon felt like giving up on his search, another dream would come to him. He would wake up with damp hair plastered against his face and his clothes clinging to his skin.
Light hands against his chest and a single streak of tears, which shone through the veil of dark hair, Leon remembered it all. He remembered the voice that said:
But your journey ends here.
And so in the morning, Leon would be packing his bags again.
Because there was nothing Leon liked doing more than proving Count D wrong.