This story was created from an idea sparked by Avril Lavigne's song Sk8er boi, fuelled by Linkin Park's Hybrid Theory album (set on repeat) and completed in a day. It is also modelled after a friend of mine. He was kind of short and plump during his school days. Because of that he was bullied but he eventually got mad and then he got even. Now he's 6'2!

Also known as the stomach story. No monsters here but me.

Disclaimer: Don't own Dante or Trish. And wouldn't touch Rick with a ten foot pole.

You can't cross the same river twice

No man can step into the same river twice,
for the second time it's not the same river,
and he's not the same man.

-Heraclitus


"Hey, freak! What'cha starin' at!"

Dante lowered his head and tried to fade into the background. But he was too late. The fist that slammed into his shoulder sent him back against the wall. Another fist flew at his face and, without thinking, he ducked. That was a big mistake. His reward was two hard blows to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

"You little shit. Getting' cocky, ey?" The breaking voice of his worst enemy scratched at his nerves. Dante braced himself, anticipating the next blow. To his relief the sound of the school bell rang out over the school yard. That saves him from the usual massive beating, even though it did not stop his attackers from one last cheap shot. They slammed him against the wall, making his head hit the rough surface with mind numbing force. He closed his eyes for a moment; only to see black spots swarm his vision.

He could sense the others move towards the building, leaving him standing alone in the yard. When the sounds of retreating footsteps died away he opened his eyes. Pushing away from the wall he gingerly felt the back of his head with his fingers. They came back covered in blood. With a sigh he started walking towards the restroom in order to clean himself up. Again. Just an ordinary day of school.

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-

"Hi, sweetie! How was school? Did you learn anything interesting today?

Yes, how it feels to have a concussion. "Hi,Jenna. Same as always." Dante strolled into the kitchen, sniffing at the scents that flowed toward him. Whatever else she was, Jenna sure was an excellent cook. His mouth watered as he saw the brownies she just had pulled out of the oven.

"No, not until after dinner," Jenna said when she saw Dante edge closer to the table where the delicious cookies was laid out to cool down. "And Ben is coming home tonight so you'd better save some for him, too."

"Is Ben coming?" Dante could not hide the smile that instantly tugged at his lips. Ben was coming home. He had been gone for weeks. Both Ben and Jenna would go on long business trips, not really telling him what they did when they were gone. They took turns going, so he would not be left alone. When they were at home they never did anything even resembling work. Jenna usually honed her culinary skills to perfection and spent the evenings with Dante, watching horror flicks or playing Dungeons & Dragons. Ben spent hours reading, or teaching Dante how to repair motorcycles.

Even though the loss of his real family still ached inside him and always would, he had settled down with his foster parents, who later became his adoptive parents. They were extraordinary, going to any lengths to make him happy. Shortly after the adoption papers were signed, they had left their small apartment in the city and bought this house in this small town, Meadows Creek. There was nothing like growing up in a small friendly town, Ben had said. He was right, but not in the way he had intended. Nothing was like growing up in a small friendly town when you where…different.

It had started on his first day of school. Standing by the teacher's desk he could feel the stares and hear the whispers. What's wrong with his hair? Is it real? He looks like a freak! He's probably been in an accident. Scared shitless. His hair turned white.

It was not white, it was silver, or more like platinum, a white metallic sheen to it. Jenna and Ben liked his hair. They said it was a reminder of his father, an inheritance. Jenna had lovingly run her hands through it before she cut it in the crew cut he preferred now, trying to avoid the attention his hair generated.

During the few months they had lived here he had started to wish that he had inherited something else from his father. The colour of his hair was what had triggered this constant bullying. Nature abhors a vacuum. And ordinary people abhorred those that were different.

His week days consisted of classes, beatings, trips to the rest room and time spent covering up the traces of his total defeat. His attackers were not that superior in height, he was almost as tall, but in weight and muscle he could not challenge them. His worst enemy, Rick, was built like a bulldozer and just as smart. His gang of followers were like marionettes, mindlessly obeying his every command. They had started picking on Dante during the first recess. His initial attempt to defend himself had been futile, him being both outnumbered and outweighed.

That day he had spent his free period tending to his wounds, a split lip and a large bump on the head. Not to mention the ache in his stomach, originating from multiple jabs to his abdomen. To his surprise he healed quickly. When he had wiped the blood from his lip it barely showed and the bump slowly disappeared during the day. When he returned home to Jenna and Ben, no tell tale signs could alarm them of what had happened. And that was just how Dante wanted it. They had left their life to bring him here, trying to give him a good childhood. He would not let them think that he was ungrateful. He would keep his mouth shut; maybe things would improve later on.

But, unfortunately nothing had changed. The months went by and Dante was slowly beginning to blame himself. It was his fault the kids bullied him. His ability to heal quickly seemed to infuriate them. He was doing everything wrong, looking wrong.

He had felt how he slowly cracked inside, the constant attacks wearing him down, leaving him empty. His only safe place was at home, within the loving sphere that was created by his adoptive parents.

Today, however, something had happened to him. The feeling inside had changed. Something was welling up to replace the void. Something that was buried deep down; a darkness that roared at his opponents, struggling to get to the surface. Images started to flicker in his brain. Images filled with blood and the terrified faces of his enemies as something hunted them down. Something huge, something horrible. It was him. He could feel his CLAWS tearing through their flesh.

He threw himself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was getting dark outside. Jenna was doing the dishes, while he was supposed to do his homework. Ben was coming soon. He had called from a pay phone a few towns away. Hopefully there would be no more trips for a while. Dante wanted both Jenna and Ben around. He needed their support.

He had almost drifted into an unintentional sleep when the growing sound of a bike roused him. He jumped from his bed and skidded out of the bedroom, almost falling down the stairs.

"Ben's here!" he shouted as he yanked the front door open. Slowly walking up to the porch was the man that had given him a home, security.

Ben's strong face was lit up by a wide grin. He looked at the lanky youth standing in the doorway, noting how he had grown. The next thing he knew he had two pairs of arms embracing him. Jenna had silently sneaked up to him and Dante had taken a leap from the opening. He dropped the heavy bag he was carrying and put his arms around them, giving them a bear hug.

The next day was Saturday so Dante put all his hurts and bad thoughts aside. Ben and Jenna took Dante on a picnic in the park and later on they all went fishing. The entire batch of brownies was gone by the end of the day. Dante revelled in this short escape from the hell that he had to endure in school.

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Monday. Another day in hell. Dante walked through the gate and looked up at the building in front of him. How could a place that looked so ordinary hold so much terror and pain? He knew that he was not the only victim of the bulldozer gang. There were others, cowering just like him, trying to fade into the background. A spark of anger made him grind his teeth. If he only was stronger, bigger. The images returned. Screams, blood, growls, fury.

The bell rang, time to go to class. The first part of the day went by without trouble. Then lunch hour came. Dante took his lunch bag from his locker and went outside to sit under a tree. Jenna had packed his lunch, putting in bites and pieces left over from the picnic. A soda, chicken salad with curry dressing, garlic bread and an orange. Dante smile at the memories from the passed weekend.

"What're you grinning at, freak?" Rick booted Dante in the ribs. The thick grass of the lawn had silenced his steps and Dante had been lost in thought, otherwise he had heard him. The sudden pain made him growl. Not again. He was tired of this. Every blow he had been give and every name he had been called rushed into his head.

He stared up at his bully, feeling the darkness rise, triggered by the sudden anger. He slowly got to his feet; his gaze fixed firmly into the eyes that mockingly met his. Icy blue eyes meeting grey.

"Are you gettin' cocky again?" Rick smirked, not feeling intimidated by this scrawny fourteen-year-old. After all he was seventeen and muscular. He could easily take this shrimp, even if his gang had not been backing him up.

They stood face to face, now equal in height since Dante had grown during the last few months. The gang members were closing in tightly. Rick made the first move and jabbing his clenched fist into Dante's stomach, his favourite spot. Dante bent over slightly, gasping for breath. His head started buzzing and in his mind a growl was growing stronger.

He was hit again, this time a blow from behind to his kidneys. A tingling started to crawl over his skin.

A whack to the head and the tingling enveloped his body. He suddenly recognised the feeling. This was what he had felt when his mother and brother had been killed. For an instant it had filled him and it had been sweet. Rage flowing through every vein, seeping through every pore. He embraced it.

He sensed a fist flying at him and instinctively blocked it. Another fist was caught in the air, the vicelike grip making his assailant cry out and fall to his knees. Dante straightened up, again meeting the gaze of Rick. This time it was not mocking. Fear was beginning to show in the big bully's eyes. Dante felt a feral smirk adorn his face and with a perfect mimic of Rick's voice he asked:

"What'cha starin' at?"

Rick could only try to swallow the knot in his throat. The look in Dante's eyes chilled him to the bone. He had never seen such fury. He was interrupted in his thoughts as his gang, all ten of them, simultaneously jumped Dante, the sudden assault making the fourteen-year-old boy fall to the ground. Rick stepped back to avoid being hit by the flailing arms.

A hand landed on his shoulder and with a yelp Rick spun around. His movement turned into a fall, head first onto the lawn, as the hand pushed him aside. Rolling over onto his back he say a tall man grab the gang members by the nap of their necks and flinging them aside as if they were pieces of garbage.

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"Dante. Dante! Wake up!"

A hand was brushing through his short hair, somehow brushing away the pain. He opened his eyes. Ben.

"Hey Jenna, he's awake."

Another face floated into focus. Jenna's eyes shimmered with unshed tears mixed with anger. Her hand replaced Ben's, slowly feeling its way down the side of his face. As Dante's vision cleared he saw that he was lying on his back under a tree. I'm in the park? Did I fall asleep?

Suddenly the memory returned and he tried to sit up. Jenna held him down with a gentle but firm hand.

"You're not going anywhere, mister. Just lay down. Everything is all right."

Lying back he replayed the previous events in his head. Rick and his gang had attacked him, he had attacked back. Sounds of screams echoed in his head. Even when they had piled over him he had fought back. CLAWS connecting with bone and flesh. A sudden strike to the head had made him see stars. Someone had used a stone, trying to bash his head in. Then darkness had fallen.

Ben and Jenna shared a look over the head of their adoptive son. Ben had come to school because Dante has forgotten his math book at home. Suddenly sensing danger he had walked towards the grass covered part of the school yard. As he approached, he caught sight of Dante, surrounded by eleven boys, all a little older then him. Dante was hunching slightly. Suddenly he straightened and looked at the boy directly in front of him, saying something. Ben could not make out what it was; he was still to far away. When the rest of the boys all of a sudden threw themselves over Dante, Ben suppressed a curse. He started to run, trying to reach the pile of fighting boys as quickly as possible.

When he had finally found Dante's unmoving form under the fallen bodies, he let out a sigh. Ben could see that he was still breathing. He would be okay, even though he had a nasty cut in his scalp. The blood flowed over his face and stained the grass.

Looking around, his gaze fixed on the boy lying on his back in the grass, the only one that was still conscious.

"Go and find a teacher. Tell him or her to call Jenna Smith. Now!"

Rick crawled to his feet and went running. The tone in the man's voice commanded instant obedience.

Not many minutes had passed before Jenna's motorcycle skidded to a halt outside the gate. She ran through it and, looking around, caught sight of Ben sitting under a tree beside a familiar figure. She ran towards him, letting her helmet fall on the grass.

"Oh my god! Ben, what happened?"

"Some morons attacked him. Apparently someone hit him in the head with a stone during the brawl."

Jenna pulled off the scarf that she has around her neck and started to gently wipe away the blood.

"He's already staring to heal. He'll be fine in a moment."

"He'll have a hell of a headache, anyway. Look at this."

Ben held up a stone bigger then his clenched fist, blood still covering one side.

"What were they doing? Trying to kill him? Good thing he takes after his father. Demons aren't that easy to kill."

"Yeah. Maybe you should wake him up, Ben."

"Dante. Dante! Wake up!"

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-

Dante sat at the kitchen table staring at his bag. How could a life fit in such a small bag? Ben and Jenna were travelling just as light, packing their few possessions into the bags strapped to their bikes. They were leaving a lot behind. But nothing would be missed. The small town life was not for them after all. Being devil hunters was not something you could tell your neighbours about. The narrow-mindedness that had reared its ugly head after the little incident at school was a sure sign. Ignoring the fact that it was local boys that had started it, everyone focused on the fact that Dante had rendered all ten of his attackers unconscious.

They decided to move. Especially now that Dante's demonic powers had started to manifest themselves, the anonymity of a large city was to prefer.

He had stared at them for several minutes when they told him. He could not believe what they were saying. I'm half demon? That was what I felt? My demonic powers awaking? After they had brought him home that day the truths had surfaced. Both his and theirs. He had told them of the hell he had gone through in school and they had told him about his origin… and their profession.

Ben had told him that now his training could start. He would train to become a devil hunter just like them. Soon he would be able to revenge his family, kill the monsters that lurked in the dark.

His thoughts were interrupted as Jenna stuck her head through the doorway leading into the hallway.

"Coming, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I'll be right out." Dante took his bag and looked around the kitchen one last time. He did not fell sad. This town held no fond memories for him. The best memories from this place had been with Jenna and Ben and they were leaving with him.

He locked the front door behind him as he stepped out on the porch. Ben sat on his bike adjusting his helmet. Jenna was standing by hers, waiting for Dante. He walked up to her and handed her the bag. She fastened it onto her own bags and then got on the bike. Dante put on his helmet and took his place on the seat behind her, putting his arms around her waist. The two bikes roared to life and they rolled out onto the street. Slowly cruising through the neighbourhood they saw curious people sitting on their porches or staring at them whilst standing in their immaculate gardens. Sporting identical smirks Ben and Jenna looked at each other.

"Hold on." Dante heard Jenna's voice clearly and tighten his grip. The bikes willingly obeyed their owners' commands and with a defiant roar they sped through the remaining length of the street, lightly skidding into the curve. Pressed close to her back Dante could hear Jenna laugh. Laugh at the chocked faces of the few people that had dared to ventured out of their houses to watch them leave. Laugh at the stupidity of people, fearing the ones that kept them safe.

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Present day

Ring, ring.

"Devil Never Cry. Yes. A demon? Where? Okay."

"Another job?" Trish leaned back in the couch, looking at Dante's frowning face.

"Yes."

"Where is it?"

"Meadows Creek."

"Oh? Oh!" The information sank into Trish's brain. Meadows Creek. That was where Dante has lived a short while when he was still a child. In a brief moment of open-heartedness he had told her about some of the things that had happened there.

"Are we going?"

"Yes."

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The two bikes swished past the town limit. The silhouette of the small town was approaching fast. Dante felt a knot form in his stomach. It felt just like when Rick had hit him, repeatedly.

"You okay?" Trish's voice whispered in his ear.

"Yes." Dante spoke into the small head set that was built into his helmet, allowing him to communicate with his partner.

"Let's kill the freaking demon and get out of here, okay? This place gives me the willies."

"You haven't reached the first house yet, Trish." Dante's dry comment made her look at him over her shoulder.

"So you're looking forward to see this place again, are you?"

"No." He heard her give a snort in response to his reply.

In silence they continued towards the centre of town, heading for the police station.

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Strolling out of the police station Trish looked at the map they had been given.

"It looks like it's a couple of miles outside of town. It might take a while to get there, hunt him down and drag his ugly butt back here."

"Yeah. Should we take a bite first? Can't work on an empty stomach."

"That sounds like the best idea you've had so far."

Across the street they spotted a large window proclaimed that inside was the best little diner in town. Probably the only diner in town, if Dante's memory served him correctly.

"There?"

"Okay."

"I'll just be a minute. Running low on gas. You?" Dante started his bike.

"I have plenty left. Unlike some, I remember to fill it up from time to time." Trish gave him a dismissive wave and crossed the street. Dante slowly drove a few blocks. The gas station was still where he remembered it to be. Nothing had changed. He quickly filled his tank, paid and headed back.

Parking his bike outside the diner he could see Trish sitting at the counter. Her slim leather clad body and long blonde hair was attracting attention. All the men inside, and some of the women too, stared at her. The fact that she had a gun strapped to either thigh didn't lessen the sensation value. Not even the jingle of the doorbell when Dante entered could break the spell.

Suddenly a gasp did what the doorbell couldn't. Behind the counter a woman was staring at Dante with eyes as big as saucers. She seemed slightly familiar. Then it dawned on him. It was Mary Grogan, the most popular girl in school. She had been Rick's girlfriend when Dante left.

He felt all eyes shifting target. Ignoring them he walked up to Trish and seated himself on a stool beside her.

"Ordered yet?"

"Yeah, I ordered a large steak for you and a beer. Fries on the side."

"Good. I'm starving."

A finger tapped Dante's shoulder. He ignored it, concentrating on getting his food and getting out if here. Trish was right; this place gave you the willies.

"Hey, freak boy! Don't you try to ignore me!"

Dante slowly turned his head, letting his body mimic the motion. He slowly took in the sight of the man that once had been his worst enemy. Rick. No longer seventeen, his large body had lost its muscle tone and now a large beer belly hung over the belt that held his sagging jeans up.

"Heh, knew it was. Can't mistake that freak hair of yours." A sly grin covered Rick's face. During the years, he had suppressed the memories of what had really happened that fateful day. When first asked, he had made up a story and then repeated it so many times he believed it himself.

Dante looked him in the eyes and heard as from a distance Trish telling the waitress to make the order to go. Feeling her hand on his arm he blew a lock of his platinum hair out of his eyes and slid of the stool. The movement put him inches from the bulk of Rick. Stranding up straight Dante looked down at his former bully. Dante, being 6'3, was a foot taller.

"You want something, Rick? I have a demon to kill and I don't like wasting time." As if unintentionally Dante's coat slid open, revealing the sheen of Ebony and Ivory at his thighs. Rick's eyes bulged, all coming back to him. He looked up again and found himself locked in the icy gaze of the devil hunter, the eyes starting to shimmer with red light. He gulped and slowly tried to sidle out of the way, sensing that Dante was just as likely to walk through him as around him.

"N..no. J..just wanted to say hi." His voice ended in a nervous high tone.

"Well, I don't." With forceful strides Dante reached the door.

"Coming, Trish?"

"Right behind you, Dante."