Phobia

Lady Luce

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry belongs to Capcom. I'm not making any money from this; it is written with all due respect to the creator.

This set of fics are all based on a phobia of some form. A bit like a prompt list only I have more choice in what subject I pick :) It was just a random idea I had and have enjoyed doing. More fics will follow as inspiration strikes, some may be drabbles, others will possibly be longer than this. So here's the first one!


Nosocomephobia: Fear of Hospitals


The mechanical beep of the heart rate monitor was the only thing which told him his mother was still alive. That and the steady rise and fall of her chest timed perfectly with the whirring of the ventilator next to her bedside. The machines were the only things keeping her alive; Dante knew this, but he refused to believe it.

He gritted his teeth, clenching a white-knuckled fist in the duvet which covered Eva's pale form. Dante hated it here, it stank of disinfectant, and it was almost too clean. The constant metallic whirrs and clicks of the machines were driving him insane, but he didn't want it to stop. The mere thought sent a shiver up his spine; each time the monitor seemed to skip for just a second too long his heart would jump into his throat.

The room was dark; the only lights in the ward directly above Eva's prone form turning her skin an even deathlier pale and making her hair shine a brilliant, shimmering, gold. Dante sat hunched over the edge of her bed unruly white hair falling into his eyes as he stared at the sheets. He couldn't look at her; it wasn't her.

Eva's face was ashen, dark rings under her eyes, her once silky hair which shone like spun gold was stained and matted with a deep, sanguine, red. A tangle of tubes, pipes, and wires concealed most of her face from his view. It didn't look comfortable at all – he wanted to rip them away so he could see her properly, he wanted to be closer to her than he already was, but most importantly he wanted her to live and that was what stopped him from doing something rash.

The constant blip of the heart rate monitor faltered for a second and sheer panic tore through him. Dante's hand grasped his mother's tightly – careful of the shunt in the back of her hand – eyes wide and starring as his heart seized in his chest. Time stood still for what seemed like hours as his gaze locked on his mother's face occasionally flicking to the monitor next to him. Then the green line on the screen arched upwards to a peak and the steady rhythm continued once more. Dante let out a shaky breath and bit his lip squeezing his eyes tight shut. His whole body trembled from the pure fear that he had lost his mother, could still loose her, and he resisted the urge to break down completely.

Opening his eyes again he took a few steady breaths to calm himself and blinked rapidly to clear the tears from the edges of his vision. He couldn't cry now, not now, he was going to be strong for his mother. Dante's jaw clenched; she needed him now. Forcing himself to look at her once again he tried to choke down the knot forming at the back of his throat. She looked beautifully serene and somewhat angelic – a halo of pale light shining in her hair. He squeezed her hand tighter, careful not to hurt her – if she could feel pain now that was – and willed her to live.

"Please mom," his words were fractured and hung in the all too silent air for agonising seconds. Somehow he couldn't help but blame himself for what had happened. Part of him knew that he couldn't have prevented it, but he could have tried! He had been hiding away whilst his mother had been tormented… he had heard her screaming and knew that those sounds would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Wake up," Dante's voice trembled threatening tears and he blinked them back furiously. "I should have tried… I should have saved you," he gripped her hand in both of his now, eyes shining in the pale light, shudders racing up and down his spine. "Mom, please," he begged, voice strained as a harsh sob escaped his lips. "Just wake up."

Dante's head fell to rest on their entwined hands, his shoulders shaking with suppressed tears. His whole world had caved in that night and somehow he knew that nothing would ever be alright again. The horrible aching wounds in his heart refused to heal and now all the pain was rushing to the surface in a wave of broken sobs.

He froze suddenly breath catching as his eyes widened in pure terror, head snapping up to gaze at the monitor. There was the hollow droning of a single off-key note as his mother's heart stopped beating and in that second the world seemed to fall into a terrible clarity. His mother was dead and no matter what she wasn't coming back. For a moment he couldn't think or move, couldn't see around the blinding pain in his chest. An anguished cry tore its way from his throat and all attempts at self control fled. He threw himself across Eva's form and clung on tight hoping to bring her back by pure strength of will if nothing else.

The doors crashed open, the room suddenly bursting into chaos. He didn't even have the strength to fight back as he was dragged out into the corridor.


Dante sat hunched over in the darkened corridor snow white hair hanging in his eyes. The soft green glow from the emergency exit signs at each end of the corridor gave off the only light. That and a dim light in the middle of the corridor which flickered on every time someone walked by. For all he knew they had forgotten him completely. He had taken himself off, after being left in the relatives' room, in a vain attempt to find his mother again. Now he was hopelessly lost and couldn't make his legs work again even if he had wanted them to. Something inside him felt incredibly cold all of a sudden, his mind was shutting down. Everything he loved had been taken away from him.

Squeezing his eyes tight shut Dante rested his head in his upturned hands covering his burning eyes. He was beyond tears now, filled with a numb pain; the feeling was far worse than any wound that could have been inflicted. The closest he could come to describing it was having his heart squeezed in a vice of frozen fingers until it burned with pure cold. And yet that still didn't seem to come anywhere close to what he was feeling. His body was shaking, his back heaving with the occasional dry choked-back sob. Half of him wished that he had died instead, it hurt so much – he just wanted the world to end right here; just to make the pain go away. It was the quitters' way out and if anything Dante was not a quitter so he bit his lip to keep it from trembling and swiped futilely at his reddened eyes with the back of his hand.

The few brief moments of coherence, before the world dulled around him once again, hurt the most. He couldn't keep a firm grip on the reality for longer than a minute. As nice as it was to be completely detached from the situation he didn't like the empty, hollow, feeling which had settled across his chest, choking him.

Pressing his head back against the cold wall behind him his exhausted body fell gratefully into a light sleep. He needed all the strength he could get right now and finally tiredness had gotten the better of him.

Dreams quickly turned into nightmares as he lay awkwardly across the chairs in the corridor. The whole thing was a blur of twisted, gawking phantoms, sanguine red and fear until suddenly it all cleared away in a haze of brilliant light. The monsters and horrors which had plagued him melted away into shadow as he felt a hand brush across his forehead. A gentle, soft touch; a cool hand lovingly brushing the hair from his eyes a refreshing breeze playing across fevered skin.

"Mother?" he smiled. Dante didn't have to ask; he knew it was her.

"Dante… you'll be okay. You can do it," her voice was ethereal; echoing through out his mind. He didn't understand, but it didn't matter – she was there with him.

Dante was jarred from his dream by someone shaking gently awake. His mind couldn't comprehend what was happening for minutes and then he locked onto a face in front of him and he was brought back to the real world with a painful jolt. He had to swipe away more tears as he sat up in his chair, trying to look strong and brave in front of this stranger.

She was a doctor, she must have been, her white coat told him that. Her eyes were kind and she gave him a half-hearted smile.

"Are you Dante?"

He nodded; throat dry. He knew why she was here.

She gave him another one of those awkward, sad smiles. The doctor took his hand and the immediate reaction to pull it away was quelled by the icy feeling returning to his stomach. She caught his eyes and he saw the sadness there too. Well at least she wasn't feigning it for his benefit.

"Do you have any family…? Anyone I can call for you?"

Once again he shook his head feeling dread rushing over him.

She pursed her lips and nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but," she sighed, "your mother passed away a few hours ago. We tried to resuscitate her, but we couldn't bring her back…"

Dante nodded to show that he understood and finally found his voice. It was filled with the same icy numbness as his heart. "I already knew."


A/N: Personally I don't like the first half of this fic as much as I do the second and I kept feeling like there was something wrong with the whole thing. Oh and yes, I know any mention of Vergil is missing. This started out only going to be a drabble and then I thought it would be best just to write him out of the equation completely. And yes that line Eva supposedly said is from DMC1. I thought it fitted and to be honest I didn't know what else to write.

Opinions, constructive criticism, helpful pointers... all would be very much appreciated :)

-Luce