Written for the person who made my life in the fandom unbelievably happy - 1156m4r. Her art is a wonder of beauty, as can be seen from her page at deviantart.

1. Introduction

- We do not get kittens off the trees, - Vergil said, bored, instead of an introduction.

The girl shook her head and looked even more tearful than when she had timidly crept through the front door. She couldn't be older than thirteen.

- It's… It's my parents. They are… They have…

The bathroom door creaked open, and Dante finally chose to appear. He was - as expected - shirtless, his white hair still wet after the shower, and a towel was slung loosely over his shoulder. He shot Vergil a look, strolled quickly to the girl and crouched beside her.

- Just tell us what happened, - his tone was serious, and he was smiling that kind smile of his which won him the trust of any disheveled and shaken human Dante chose to grace with it.

2. Love

Love was a word they rarely ever used even when thinking, much less talking to each other. And so was hate. Both notions were too human, too plain. Even the sum of the two did not do their relationship justice. When Vergil pondered the question, the first, most rough metaphor to come to his mind would be of love and hate as two sides of a coin growing into one another, intertwining and giving volume to that which was flat, turning it into a sphere that would, ultimately, engulf and contain all the universe. Dante didn't trouble himself with putting into words something he felt with every breath he took in perfect sync with his twin. He lived by the feeling, it was as natural to him as the sun, the moon, the stars in the sky.

3. Light

- What shall I do now? - the woman was mad with grief, weeping, clutching her husband's body - or what the demons left of it - for dear life.

Dante shrugged.

- Live on alone. Or kill yourself and join him. The choice is always simple.

Sympathy, compassion… He was long past such things. To be the light, he needed darkness. And darkness, the living endless space full of secrets, novelty and acceptance, of hidden miracles and sparks of clashing blades, was dead and gone - with Vergil.

4. Dark

They cursed and spat behind his back.

- Traitor! - an old man cried. - Murderer!

It would take less than a second to silence him - and with him all the crowd. One quick and merciful touch of Yamato's gleaming blade.

Vergil did not bother. His ears were deaf to the insults these people showered him with, his eyes blind to the hatred twisting their faces.

To be the darkness, he needed light. And light was gone from this world forever, had died out the moment it left Dante's eyes.

5. Seeking Solace

The place was forlorn, abandoned, but still so painfully his brother's. He came here seeking solace, but all he found was more needles for his bleeding heart, more guilt to throttle him, more little things to remember and remind him of what he - they - could have had.

6. Break Away

He needed to escape, to break away and warn Dante before he fell into the same trap.

- Did you really think, - Vergil ground out, his lips twisting in fury and disdain, - that these meagre things would hold me down?

His eyes flashed azure, and the chains snapped showering the stone floor with broken links.

7. Heaven

They were together and there was nothing to separate them, nothing to fight over - if only for the fun of it, to train and feel the thrill. And though they were in hell, to them it was like heaven.

8. Innocence

Vergil knew quite well that Dante had killed - for whatever reasons, he did not care - many a human and demon alike. But to him his younger twin would always be as innocent as an angel.

9. Drive

The motorcycle - all new and shiny, black and dark blue - was Dante's gift for their latest birthday. The younger had disassembled it, tuned it and put together piece by piece, so it could channel demonic energy without blowing apart, withstand significant damage, provide enhanced control and ride so much faster. There was even a special place to fix Yamato on.

As he drove on, almost lying on the seat, Vergil found he enjoyed racing Dante almost as much as he enjoyed fencing with him. Not quite, of course, but almost.

10. Breathe Again

Seeing his twin alive, hearing his voice and his heartbeat, sensing the warmth of his body even from five steps away, touching him - ever so lightly, so quickly, for Vergil would always scowl at him for doing that - made Dante feel alive, feel like he could breathe again after being buried for years and years in a hundred feet deep grave of solid granite.

11. Memory

The faultless memory of a devil made sure he could never forget what he had lost, and there were times when Dante hated it. But had there been a remedy, some magic pill to take it all away and turn his barren, blood-washed past into peaceful nothingness, Dante would rather have died than taken it. Forgetting would mean losing Vergil again - betraying him again - and that would truly be worse than death.

12. Insanity

Dante often wondered if he could go insane, and just what would humans do in case he did. Then he wondered if he wasn't already mad.

13. Misfortune

Catching that crazy girl when she was falling might have proven a misfortune after all, but this ruby-haired woman with the body of a nymph and the voice of a siren… She was utterly perfect, all danger and lust shaken not stirred, she was his dream come true. And then she kissed him.

14. Smile

In Dante's opinion only a blind fool could say that Vergil never smiled. He smiled rarely, true, but when he did and when it was a sincere smile - Dante felt he could kill for it and he could die for it. He didn't really like the feeling.

What never occurred to him was that he was the only person that Vergil ever smiled to.

15. Silence

Silence may be a torture when you are alone, even if - especially if - there is someone beside you, but not with you.

Now it was a blissful tranquility as Dante lay on the couch, his head in Vergil's lap, and Vergil held a book in his left hand, ruffling his younger twin's hair absentmindedly with his right.

16. Questioning

- Where is he? Where is that heretic brother of yours?

The questioning had been going on for hours and hours and proved as tiresome as it was fruitless.

The captive said nothing, only glared up at him with those insolent blue eyes. The inquisitor finally snapped and struck him across the cheek, hard. That got him an answer.

- Are those the only words you know? - Dante spat blood on the floor and smirked, - I've seen parrots with richer vocabulary.

17. Blood

Blood was everywhere, both his and his enemies'. It was steadily leaking out of his barely healing wounds, he was slipping in it. Too much and too many…

His head was swimming, his vision blurring, and it was so cold…

He slipped again, fell to one knee, tried to get up and felt pain erupt in his left thigh. He had to get up, but… Why weren't they attacking? He was all too vulnerable now, so why? Were they trying to…

He had no time to finish the thought which had sent cold shivers down his spine. Something hit his head hard, and the sea of blood was suddenly too close to his face. And then he was drowning in it, and only barely felt rough clawed hands grip his arms.

18. Rainbow

- Please, please let him go! Please! Have mercy, he's only a boy, the crime is mine!

Eva, the proud Lady Eva was begging, crying, thrashing helplessly in the arms of two priests, and her life-long friend, Father Reinhardt, was standing there grim and indifferent like a statue.

- She's… lying… I'm the devil… incarnate… or whatever it was you called me… I fooled her… She didn't know…

His whisper was scarcely audible over the horrible sizzling sound his skin was making where it touched the wooden cross he was tied to.

- No! Dante, no!.. - this time she screamed outright, and tears ran freely down her cheeks.

- Don't.. worry… Mother, - despite everything Eva could hear him smile beneath those silken white locks. He kept his face down, she knew, so she wouldn't see him cringe in pain.

- Dante… - she rasped, and thought her heart would burst, because what mother could watch her son being tortured, and there seemed to be no hope, and it was all her fault…

The beautiful stained-glass window broke with a chiming sound like Christmas bells ringing, shards of rainbow scattered in the air, and there stood Vergil, unsheathed katana in his hand, eyes blazing, teeth bared in an uncharacteristic beast-like fashion.

19. Gray

- Oh no, - Eva exclaimed in mock horror, - you two are doing it again!

The twins grinned widely, looking both innocent and evil at the same time. With the identical gray t-shirts, blue jeans and white trainers they were wearing there was no way to tell them apart. For anyone but Eva.

20. Fortitude

Internally, Dante admired his brother's fortitude as Vergil sat in his straight-back chair reading - or pretending to read - another ancient tome of demonic lore, while Dante himself shamelessly flirted with Nevan. All three of them knew the show would soon end, so for now Nevan and Dante enjoyed each other - and the anticipation.

21. Vacation

- These losers are boring. I'm so fed up with sniffing out the little dustbags only to find out they die of a single bullet.

Dante fidgeted on the couch for a hundredth time trying to find a position in which his muscles would stop nagging for a real exercise. He was half-hanging off the edge, arms outstretched, one leg on the back pillow, the other curled in a way a yogist might envy.

- What say we get ourselves a vacation?

Vergil looked at him out of the corner of his eye and asked evenly:

- Which circle would you like a journey to?

22. Mother Nature

Dante was grinning like a maniac, ear to ear, while the shallow gash across his bare chest healed itself. Vergil stood opposing him in a relaxed stance, Yamato's tip to the ground. A small smile lit his face.

It was Mother Nature calling, and at exactly the same moment the twins sprang forward, the broadsword clashing against the katana.

23. Cat

Dante was like a cat, coming and going as he wished, at any time of day or at four o'clock in the morning, now affectionate and demanding attention, now sneering and spiteful. But he always did come, and Vergil was sure that if one day something happened to him, Dante would follow his trail and find him anywhere.

24. No Time

Vergil was standing on the edge of the cliff, holding his brother at sword-point and trying to say farewell to him forever, when three red orbs appeared above their heads.

He snarled.

- Leave, Dante, you have no time!

Dante gave him a quick "you must have hit your head" look, in one lightning-fast movement flung his precious amulet through the closing portal and drew Rebellion.

- Is this the main event you've mentioned?

25. Trouble Lurking

The joint was too quiet. Vergil knew trouble was lurking, so he wasn't really surprised when someone - pray tell, who could that be? - grabbed him from behind pressing his arms to his sides and whispered gleefully into his ear - Vergil guessed it was supposed to sound ominous:

- Welcome back!

26. Tears

When Vergil saw tears in Dante's eyes he was shell-shocked. But those tears of overwhelming joy, unlooked for, yet craved beyond imaginable, meant the world to him. They were his absolution, his one-way ticket to heaven.

Something hot slid down his own cheek.

27. Foreign

The deadly serious expression of steely determination looked so foreign on Dante's face. His younger twin had always been careless and rash and never gave a damn about consequences of his actions. Something had changed in those few hours since their duel in the Lair of Judgement. What? Vergil searched his brother's darkened eyes and furrowed brows, his grimly set lips and couldn't find the answer. It made him feel thrilled, almost… almost afraid. And fascinated.

28. Sorrow

This feeling was strange, gnawing at him from the inside. Regret? No, that was laughable, why would he regret something that in the end made him the new Prince of Darkness?

"So you don't even miss me, huh?" - whispered a ghost of a voice inside his mind bitterly.

Vergil snarled inwardly, but couldn't chase away the memory of hot blood flowing on his hands over Yamato's hilt and the look of surprised hurt and disbelief in Dante's slowly dimming eyes.

Sorrow. That was what the feeling was. As days passed, it grew ever deeper.

29. Happiness

The word tasted foreign on his tongue. Happiness. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be happy. He'd thought he'd never feel that way again.

So now, when he had his twin back, he at first could not describe the nearly ecstatic elation which filled his very core.

30. Under the Rain

Under the rain they fought, and the full moon drew apart the clouds to watch them from above. Their blades cut raindrops in two, their white hair flashed silver in the moonlight, and steam rose from their bodies heated by the battle.

Dante had to restrain himself so as not to laugh out of the sheer bliss. Until Yamato pierced his stomach.

31. Flowers

Giving flowers to a demoness was a strange idea, Dante knew it. But a sudden urge to play a gentleman got the better of him, so now he was coming home carrying a bunch of red roses. He figured Nevan should like them, and if not - well, he'd find another way to please her then.

The first one to greet him, however, was a skeptical-looking Vergil.

- Are these for Nevan? - he asked and raised an eyebrow. - Well, unless they are red because you've dipped them in blood, I warn you she'll only like the thorns. Or rather, how your blood looks on them.

Dante gave him a wolfish grin.

- Who says I mind?

32. Night

Tiny particles of dust twirled in the ray of sunlight. It was… past noon already.

Vergil stood up from the bed and stretched. It was a rare occasion that he'd allow himself to sleep in so, but the night had been long and… pleasurable. Worth it, he decided as he headed to the bathroom. Wooden planks of the floor were dry and warm under his bare feet.

- Don't be long, - purred a melodic voice. It rolled over him like water of a crystal-clear mountain lake, refreshing and enticing.

Vergil glanced back over his shoulder to see Nevan awake. She smiled at him both lazily and hungrily while leaning on seemingly-asleep Dante.

- Nah, take your time, - the latter yawned and suddenly embraced her in one fluent motion. - More for me.

33. Expectations

Dante hated expectations. Being a son of Sparda meant there were plenty of those for him to hate. He was supposed to protect people. From demons. From other people. From whatever the hell they wanted to be protected and were too weak, lazy or stupid to protect themselves against. He was supposed to be selfless. He wasn't supposed to think for himself, much less to want something for himself or - god forbid - to actively seek it.

He couldn't see how he could be held responsible for something he had never consciously chosen. You don't choose your parents, right? So why the hell couldn't he and his brother be Dante and Vergil and were forever damned to go under the brand of the Sons of Sparda? Oh, because of the powers they had? Weren't demons always on the hunt for them payment enough?

So one day he decided he'd had enough and it was time to get a life of his own. No inherited expectations, no responsibilities, no family name to weigh on his shoulders.

34. Stars

Shooting stars filled the sky, and the silence was perfect until Dante mumbled something under his breath.

- What was that? - Vergil asked coldly.

- Nothing.

- Dante.

- Oh fine, - the younger huffed, exasperated and… embarrassed. - I said… they remind me of you.

35. Hold My Hand

- Hold my hand, - Dante said and smiled. - I'll get you out, Vergil. This place might have been our father's home, but it can never be ours, he took care of that.

Vergil reached for him, thankful - and woke up on the stone floor of his cell, grasping thin air.

There would be no second chance, no hope, he knew. He should have held fast to his brother then, on the waterfall, when Dante openly offered him his hand. He didn't want to let Vergil go, to let him fall.

It hurt, the hopelessness - and the memory of his twin's face. He would never see him again.

36. Precious Treasure

- If you look inside my crystal ball the right way, it will show you your most precious treasure, young man, - crooned the withered little fortune-teller.

Dante would have laughed had he still remembered how. Of course the ball would show him. Every god-damned reflective surface did.

37. Eyes

He would stand before a mirror, drenched in his own blood in a vain attempt to wash away his brother's, and look almost pleadingly into the eyes of his reflection, seeking forgiveness he denied himself. But those blue eyes were always sad, accusing.

38. Abandoned

It had only been several days, and the torturous poison of regret had already found its way into Dante's heart. No, that was a lie. He'd felt all along, from the moment Vergil had looked him in the eye with bitter triumph, sliced his hand open and fallen back into the abyss. Why, why couldn't he just take his hand, why?!

The worst part of it all was that Dante knew. He knew full well why. Out of pride. The same reason he himself had walked back through the portal, however slowly and almost unwillingly.

Before, Dante could never see why pride was named a mortal sin. For the most proud person he'd known then had been his twin brother, whom he had… whom he had loved more than anything or anyone in the world. Pride was honor and dignity, and what was so wrong with being dignified?

He still couldn't lay the blame on Vergil, but on himself…

He had abandoned his brother in Hell. Could there be a sin worse?

39. Dreams

The dreams in which he had his twin back were worse than the nightmares in which Vergil was falling, again and again, or twisting Yamato inside Dante's stomach and smiling that cold, satisfied smile of his. The latter ones Dante almost welcomed.

40. Rated

- This book is not suitable for children! - the woman behind the counter looked scandalized.

Eva sighed.

- Is it rated?..

- Of course! It's adults only!

- Well, - Eva looked into her son's pleading eyes and sighed again. - It's for me, it's not for him. I'm interested in, um, medieval history.

The woman pursed her lips and said no more.

Vergil had the sense to wait until they left the bookstore before whooping and hugging first his mother, then the book.

- Thanks! Look! - he shoved the Malleus Maleficarum under his brother's nose.

Dante didn't seem to share the enthusiasm though.

- Vergil, it's all rubbish, weren't you listening?.. Oh! Don't you hit me with this brick or I'll!..

- Boys.

- Sorry, Mom. He was asking for it.

- You were asking for it! Still are!

- Come on, Dante. First, we'll have to check - the summoning rituals may work if we perform them, not…

- Vergil.

- Oh, right, sorry. Anyway, even if it doesn't work, we can still play, can't we? - Vergil gave his twin a little too evil grin.

- I'm not going to play the witch, - Dante said gloomily.

- Really? I thought you were too chicken to play the inquisitor.

- Am not. Just don't want to.

- Vergil, don't make me regret buying you this book, because I can still get rid of it.

41. Teamwork

Vergil didn't even spare a glance at the soldiers.

- Wait here.

Neither did he unsheathe Yamato before walking calmly into the dreaded mansion.

The men faltered, confused. Disputing orders was something they knew all too well not to do, but this clearly went against all their training. Dante snickered.

- We'll take care of everything, you guys make sure nothing creeps past.

Teamwork with humans was always a headache. Dante only hoped these ones would be good enough to do as they were told and not get themselves killed while he and Vergil did the job… and had some fun.

42. Standing Still

Dante was standing as still as if someone had used his own Quicksilver trick on him, he didn't - couldn't - dare believe his eyes. Vergil was alive, Vergil was back, he could raise his hand and touch him… He didn't. Vergil's eyes were cold, so cold. There was nothing there but hatred and malice.

- Vergil, I…

- You betrayed me. You left me there to rot.

Slowly, as though purposefully giving Dante a chance to arm himself, Vergil drew Yamato.

Dante didn't move. His limbs turned leaden, and he could no more reach for Rebellion than turn back time and undo what he'd done, what he hated himself for, what made him want to cut himself to ribbons for.

Yamato's bite was harsh and merciless, yet Vergil's words cut deeper. The truth in them.

- I'm sorry, - Dante whispered with bloody lips. He was kneeling - when did he fall? - and all he wanted was to look up into his brother's face and see just a hint, a shadow of forgiveness. But there was only ice-cold hatred.

43. Dying

Dante didn't even fight, and now he was dying, and the terrible wrongness of it all suddenly struck Vergil full in the face.

He withdrew Yamato, and Dante fell backwards in complete silence. Just like then, just like on the tower… Only now his power was drained, he had triggered instinctively and slipped back to human form, and still Vergil had held him pinned on the sword like a cruel child holds a butterfly on a pin.

Vergil was standing over his twin's still - so still - form, blood dripping from Yamato's tip, and found himself unable to look at Dante's face. He knew what he would see - emptiness and death in the blue eyes that used to shine so bright, that held his very life.

He couldn't find a trace of the suffocating anger that had driven him, and revenge was suddenly but a hollow, meaningless word.

44. Two Roads

The two separate roads they've chosen could only lead them both to abyss or, if fate for once took pity on them, to each other.

45. Illusion

That familiarity, those blood-colored clothes, those sharp features as if cut by a sculptor of genius to show the bitter triumph of will over shock and innermost torment, those steely blue eyes which sought something in his own and found nothing, it must all have been an illusion. A test from his master, or a lowly trick by his enemy. It could not be real. That was why it hurt so much - it must have been an image of someone he had lost, someone he'd chosen to forget. Someone whom it was too painful to remember?

46. Family

The girl kept talking - shouting, rather - about family, and Dante with grudging curiosity tried to wrap his mind around the concept. Family… Sure, he remembered the time when they had their mother with them, that must be what she meant. The blissful ignorance of childhood. They'd had it all right, even though they had always been on the run, hunted by the demons. But that was so long ago, almost seemed like a dream now.

All he had now was Vergil. And Vergil was his twin, not just family. Their bond ran so much deeper, the strange mixture of love and hate, of boiling anger and awestruck fondness.

Dante wanted to paint the floor with Vergil's blood, the way the elder had done with his just hours ago, but he also wanted - however loath he was to admit it - to see him smile again the way he used to smile.

47. Creation

Trish was living proof that Mundus had the power of creation. Did that make him a god? Dante felt his lips twitch into a humorless, disdainful smirk. He couldn't care less. Deicide - this deicide - didn't bother him, for the real one he had already committed.

48. Childhood

While Dante cherished his childhood memories, Vergil tried his best to forget them. They haunted him, weighed him down in his quest for power, flooded his mind with questions and doubts that perhaps, perhaps he should have stayed or at least explained himself and then maybe Dante would have been by his side now, not facing off against him sword in hand and anger masking old hurt in his eyes.

49. Stripes

Squirming in the hands of two men, Vergil could only watch helplessly as another two dragged away his brother.

- Dante! - he cried out like a child he was, hoping that despite all the wounds his twin would hear him and come back to life.

And all of a sudden Dante jerked and lashed out at one the brutes, snarling. The man yelped in surprise, then roared and swung his massive fist. Four bleeding stripes ran across his cheek, and an eye was missing. Dante sprang again, and Vergil noticed claws, long and sharp, that had appeared on his fingers.

50. Breaking the Rules

In the dead of night everything was quiet at the orphanage, and Vergil heard the soft padding of bare feet near his bed perfectly.

- Vergil, come on, I know you aren't sleeping!

The half-devil slowly opened his eyes to see his younger brother grin mischievously at him.

- Breaking the rules again, are we? - the elder asked, more eager than disapproving.

- Who cares? It's full moon and the sky is clear! We've got to go see that lake!