Having been in the Underworld before I should know what it looks like, and it shouldn't look like my fucking bedroom from my childhood. Whatever the fuck this is it sure as shit isn't the Underworld, and as much as I hope for it to be some weird ass dream a decisively hard pinch on my forearm lets me know that I am very much awake. And very much alone.
I frown as I do a three-sixty pan of the room, looking for my brother who should have been behind me, but he's not here. Not in my room at least. I can sense him, however, and he is moving towards me.
Anger swells up inside me, because he has to be behind this fucked up thing, and I whirl to face the door as he bursts through it, calling on my namesake Devil Sword. Only it doesn't come. And Vergil looks nothing like he had on top of the Qliphoth. He's a goddamn kid and I'm perfectly level with him, so therefore…
"What the fuck did you do this time?!" I launch myself at him, not caring that I don't have any of my Devil Arms—my fists are more than enough to beat my brother's ass—not caring that we look like fucking kids, and I just barely manage to catch his chin as he twists out of the way.
"I don't know all that you think I'm capable of, Dante, but this isn't within my abilities," he states in that low, calm tone of his, eyes flashing warily as he takes a step back to put more space between us. It sounds just a little weird since he sounds like the age that he looks, which is about seven, but there is no mistaking that tone. "And why on earth would I do something that would affect us in such a manner, little brother?"
I know he's right, on some deeper level, but after everything that I've been through because of him, after fucking Temen-ni-gru, goddamn Mallet Island and the shit show that we had just gotten through, I'm not letting go of my anger that easily. "Like you ever gave a damn about me, you fucking asshole! All you cared about was getting more power to-"
"Protect you! I did everything for you, Dante! All of it was so I could keep you safe from Mundus and every other demon out there hunting us down because of our father!" For once he raises his voice, and I'm so stunned that it takes me a moment to process the words, to process that in his own fucked up way that he really does care about me. "You were-still are my everything, Dante, and I regret all that you had to go through because I wasn't strong enough."
The silence that settles over us is disconcerting, almost deafening in its totality, and I can only stare at my brother. His remorse is so clear, not just in his voice, but in his expression as he stares back. It is so uncharacteristic of him, just like the yelling, that my anger slips away and all I am left with is confusion and hurt.
"What is going on in here, boys?" The voice that breaks the silence has my blood turning into ice and Vergil is likewise affected, his face going pale as panic blooms in his eyes. Neither of us move, because with that voice comes an old, familiar presence that feels suffocating. "Vergil." My brother flinches at the sound of his own name, eyes going wide as panic becomes full blown fear. "Dante." I find myself flinching as well, but I turn to look at what should be impossible.
"Well shit." I can almost hear the grimace that Vergil gives while I stare at our very alive father, who is looking between us with a scowl. His gaze cuts to me at my choice of words, but I'm not of the mind to give a damn because he should be dead. Or vanished. Or whatever the hell had happened to him. "You know what, Verge, you are absolutely right. You wouldn't do something like this…but Mundus would."
It's like the temperature drops as our should-be-dead-or-something-like-it father narrows his eyes at the mention of Mundus' name, his human form twisting into the demon one that he almost never took around us. "You will start speaking now."
Running had been impossible. As good as we had been before this mess we were no better than infants in front of our father. Trying to fight him was outright suicide when we had absolutely nothing between us that could count as a weapon and no access to our Devil Triggers. We're lucky that our father leaves killing as a last resort, otherwise we would both be very dead, very fast. Instead we're forced to spill everything, every single detail, and the frown on our father's face progressively darkens until his expression is some foul black thing.
We sit in silence afterwards, the echoes of our painful past replaying in my mind as I numbly lean against my headboard while Vergil sits on the foot of the bed, refusing to look in my direction. This silence is somehow worse, but then maybe it's because my thoughts are so loud, louder than they've ever been, and I want nothing more than to disappear in this moment. I want them to be quiet, like how Vergil and our father is quiet, before they swallow me up.
"You were-still are my everything, Dante, and I regret all that you had to go through because I wasn't strong enough."
Why do those words resurface now? Why do they crowd out the rest of my thoughts? I don't want to think about them, I don't want the ache that they bring to my heart, knowing that if things had been different, if I had maybe tried a little harder, if I had been stronger too, that maybe I could have taken that fall with my brother. That I should have taken that fall with my brother. My own everything, my other half that I had to kill with my own hands.
"This changes things." Father finally breaks the silence, though it's not much of a reprieve, and I shift my focus onto him. His dark expression remains, pale blue eyes like chips of ice as he regards both of us. "I will gauge your skills and then from there I will start training both of you…after today. It is your seventh birthday after all, and your mother has been working hard on the preparations for it." He gives us both another look, eyes a glowing crimson. "So you both will be attending and you will not speak a word of this to your mother. Ever."
I rather not go but there is no getting out of this. "Yes, sir," I half mutter, and Vergil echoes me a half-second later, his voice much clearer than my own. I give my brother a passing glance, meeting his gaze for a brief second and my thoughts get louder again.
"You have an hour, so use that time to get ready and do not be late." With those words our father takes his leave, and then it's just me and Vergil.
"Dante…" I slide my gaze back to Vergil, a smile slipping in place as I regard him while trying to ignore his words from earlier.
"Dad told us to get ready for the party so we shouldn't waste time, big bro." My smile and words seem to be convincing enough, even if I feel like I'm seconds away from letting this mask crack, because Vergil doesn't say anything. He just looks at me a little too long before he climbs off of my bed and starts for the door.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," Vergil says as he reaches the doorway, pausing slightly to glance back at me.
"What for?" I almost snap the question out, my voice not completely level, and Vergil gives me a look of curiosity. Shit.
"Didn't you want to keep an eye on me, Dante?" Oh. "And we need to talk anyways."
"There's nothing to talk about and there's no point in keeping an eye on you," I state a little too quickly and Vergil merely arches a brow. "Look, we're here, we're seven years old, and mom and dad are both alive. There's no sense in dwelling on the past." I want to mean what I'm saying, I really do, but Vergil seems to buy my excuse at least. "I'll see you at the party," I add, before he can say anything else, and I give him another smile.
"If you are certain." He gives me another look filled with curiosity then leaves, pulling the door shut behind him, once I give a nod. My heart gives a slight lurch and I have to suppress the desperate urge to follow after him. He's not leaving, not like before.
"Fuck," I mutter and flop down onto my back once I'm certain Vergil isn't lingering outside of my door. My eyes sting and my vision blurs slightly, making me give another curse as I furiously rub the forming tears away while trying to tamp down on my emotions.