Disclaimer: Don't own Petshop of Horrors so please don't sue.

A/N I always felt that what happened with Vesca and Papa D was tragic. They never really acted on their feelings for each other. In fact, Papa D asking D to give up hope was downright sad. It got me thinking, what if there really are alternate worlds out there, worlds that are created for every choice we make, every crossroad we reach. What if the same person died at the same time in two very different worlds. Wouldn't the odds of that happening be somewhere around one in a trillion or something? What if a portal or window opened up between those two worlds? After all, anything is possible right guys? So what are the odds?

The Odds

Chapter 1

Vesca Howell knew he was dying. He could feel his spirit unhinging itself from his human shell, ready to float free. All he felt was relief. Sweet sweet relief. God, he was tired. He felt like a druggie finally getting his much needed hit. Many times over the long weary years, he had wished he had never laid eyes on that long haired Chinese bastard. He had been like a potent drug, innocuously creeping into his bloodstream, coiling into his senses, until he had become so deeply addicted that he had practically destroyed himself to catch up to that freak. Now that he was dying, he could finally admit to himself, he had felt something for the bastard. Though, if asked to give those feelings a name he would have been hard pressed to. He had never really thought much about them. He had thought he would figure them out once he caught the bastard. He had immersed himself so intensely into his search that soon nothing mattered to him. His hopes for a normal life had been shot for a long time, probably from the time he had first set eyes on that bastard. How he rued that day now. Freak should have probably come with a sign on his forehead saying "Warning! Maneater! Approach with caution!"

In retrospect, he was not surprised that D had taken him with him when he died. He was like those ancient Pharoahs of Egypt; always wanting theirs wives, concubines, slaves and possessions buried with them when they died, the crazy bastards; no live and let live in their agenda. He knew the moment D had croaked, he wouldn't walk out of that building alive, his gut feeling had always been strong, and see, he had been proven right, D's animals tearing him to shreds. His only regret was that it hadn't been his bullet blowing that bastard's brains out. Now that would have been sweet!

But the kid had beaten him to it. The very same kid who he could feel covering his broken body with his coat. God save that poor kid, they were so alike. He could only hope he escaped out of the burning building. That is, if the kid's D let him live. But strangely, the younger D had seemed a lot different from his old man. Well, maybe there was hope.

Well, no point worrying about it. There was nothing he could do anyways as he was seconds from literally giving up the ghost. He wondered if he would get to go to heaven. I mean, why not, he was the good guy here right? Certainly wasnt him trying to destroy the world in while in the throes of megalomania!Justice my ass! Well, as long as they let him stay as far as possible from D, he would take any place in the afterlife. But it would just be his luck, getting stuck with that insufferable bastard even after death. Sure hoped D had bought a one way ticket to the Hell planes. Surely, that crazy, delusional freak deserved it after killing so many.

The mind sure wondered about the strangest things as it died, but hey, sure was fun imagining D getting his ass roasted in Hell. Try your smug grin now you crazy bastard!

And so, with a small grin gracing his face, FBI Agent, Vesca Howell finally kicked the bucket.

Only to wake up with a gasp, hands scrabbling over the sheets, heart galloping like a runaway horse at full speed, hyperventilating. He failed to notice that the sheets were silk, that his hands and torso were covered with bandages, that he was stark naked except for those bandages, that had he access to a mirror he would have seen his younger self peering out at him, that there was an arm over his torso, with its palm against his heart . All he could think about through his blinding headache was, 'Umm, didn't I die?'

Then, much to his horror, he felt that hand move against his heart, feel his racing heartbeat. He finally felt a body in bed with him. And Oh Sweet Jesus, It spoke,

"Mmm, you are finally awake,Vesca. I was getting a little worried there"

That voice. That accursed voice. Oh God!

All he could so was stare wide-eyed at the canopied ceiling, too horrified to even turn his head a little to his right and look. This was not happening.

"Really Vesca, getting knifed by hoodlums? It seems you are getting more reckless by the day. Though why they chose to mug a college student, notorious for being practically penniless, is what I don't understand. Humans are so stupid sometimes." A smirk.

"You certainly need looking after. Arent you lucky I am here?" Long silky hair brushed against his chest as smirking lips nibbled his ear.

Vesca stopped breathing for a few seconds. He could feel hot breath in his ear.

No no no no no no! God! Was this Hell?

"Don't worry baby", the voice cooed, and the hand tipped by long long nails was sliding downward, ever downward.

" I will take good care of you." The hand found its prize and squeezed.

Vesca simply couldn't help himself. He screamed. And kept screaming till he blacked out. Mercifully, he couldn't feel the frowning lips touching his own or concerned hands running over his body. He slept in the arms of oblivion, if only for a short while.

Owari

Resurgamscorner: Heh heh heh! Poor Vesca! I dont think anybody would appreciate waking up to find your murderer in bed with you, touching you as if he has every right to! Especially when you thought you had died!