It started with dreams.
Vergil's death shook you almost as much as it did his own brother. At the news all you could do was collapse before letting the bile rise high in your throat and vomiting into the trash can Dante held under your head. You would cry at night, and go about the day as a hollow shell of your once fun, happy self.
You knew the twins for as long as you could remember. Your father was hired on as the family's doctor when Ms. Eva was still alive. You were asleep in your mother's arms when your father delivered the twins, you accompanied him on his visits to see them. You were really the only child the twins knew besides each other, so, you began to ask to go over on occasions other than check-ups.
The twin's were your best friends; you understood them as much as anyone could. Dante was always over confident and boasting the most flippant attitude even as a child. Vergil's personality held true as well, forever cool headed, usually quite unless he was admonishing Dante or perhaps sticking up for you when you would get upset over one of Dante's teasing insults. You hated how Dante insulted you, even if he was just teasing, even if it was his way of expressing his young affections. You loved when Vergil defended you, and when you two would read in silence together, you eventually bothering him to ask what a word meant. You would never let him know, but every time you read a fairy tale you pictured yourself as the princess and him as your young knight in shinning armor.
It was the day of their eighth birthday that everything changed. You and your father didn't bother knocking as you entered their house, presents in hand and smiles firmly in place. The first thing that registered in your young mind was the blood, it seemed like it was everywhere, splattered across the walls, staining the floor, pooling around the form of Ms. Eva. You father quickly pulled you behind him, shielding your young eyes from the horrific sight. You eyes widened as you broke from your father's grip running into the midst of the mutilated room.
"Dante! Vergil!" You cried out, voice shaking with panic and tears streaming down your cheeks as you feared the worst.
A small whimper escaped from under the stairs in the corner. You ran over, ducking around the staircase to find the little Dante backed against the wall, eyes wide with horror and shock, a fine splatter of blood across his face. You latched on to him, relief lightening your heart as you held his shivering form. Your heart turned to stone again as you pulled back from him, his large blue eyes still riveted straight ahead.
"Where's Vergil?" You whispered more to yourself than to him. His shivering got worse as his eyes slowly drifted down into his lap.
"Vergil…" he muttered.
You stood and looked about, your father was crouched by Ms. Eva, trying anything he could to resuscitate her, though he knew his attempts were in vain. You ran upstairs, checked every room, screamed his name at the top of your lungs to no avail. You returned back to the living room to see Dante in a different corner, a blanket wrapped around his form with your dad trying to coax him out of his shock.
You took Dante back to your house, he never said a word, occasionally you would hear his wailing sobs in the night, spurring you to cry as well. A month after the incident you were able to get some words out of him as you brought him a tray of breakfast.
"I have to stop them." He spoke barely above a whisper. "I have to kill them…"
Your young eyes widened as you leaned towards the silver haired boy. "Who, Dante, do you know who…?"
His eyes connected with yours and there was a flickering ember of the fire that had always roared in his ice blue eyes. He didn't say anything more.
He next spoke when you brought him his dinner that night. As soon as you entered the room he took the tray from you and set it on the table before facing you and placing his hands on your tiny shoulders. His small hands tightened as he stared into your eyes, almost studying you. Suddenly a familiar grin broke over his face, showing off one of the teeth he lost. He pulled you in for a tight hug which you returned with just as much vigor, glad to see him smile again. He pulled away and stared at you with an intensity that more befitted his twin…his late twin.
"Be careful for me, would you?" He asked and at your nod continued. "And never ever forget me. Ok?"
You tilted your head. "Dante, what are you saying…?"
He shook his head before ushering you out of his room with one more lingering hug.
"I'll see you soon."
Click.
Deep down you knew what he was saying, but never the less you cried when you found his bed empty the next morning.
You and you father searched endlessly for weeks, but you searches ended on November third, you would never forget that day.
You and your father were wandering the streets of the city looking for the little silver haired boy. You cut through another alley when a large dark mass dropped in front of your path. You father pulled you behind him, standing tall in the face of the monster.
Peeking out from behind his form you froze at the heinous sight before you. Its black leathery skin rippled, images of various vicious beasts shimmering across its hide. Its sparse patches of fur were matted with blood, its rank breathe floated into your nostrils as you fixed your wide young eyes on its gruesome fangs. But this was nothing compared to its eyes. Glowing red like the very fires of hell, burning into your shivering little form awakening nightmares and ripping fear through your innocent soul.
Its rasping voice that sounded like knives on a chalkboard wrapped around you, squeezing the breath from your trembling lips as it spoke. "You smell of the Sparda boy…"
Your father glared back into the horrendous face of the monster, though his hands trembled.
"Where…is he?" Its yellowed teeth dripped with saliva as it loomed toward you two.
"I don't know." You father's voice was firm despite the increased trembling in his hands. It terrified you, his hands never trembled, he never showed fear he was always strong and if something could scare him…
Without warning the beast's clawed hand shot out to slam your dad against the nearby wall. You could hear the flesh rip, the bones crack, the blood splash against the concrete. You stood alone in the alley as the monster pinned your dad to the brick wall, looming over him as it dug its talons deeper into your dad's heaving chest. With a cough, blood trickled from the corner of your father's mouth. You watched as the blood ran down the monster's claws, dripping methodically on to the ground below as your dad's heart slowed.
He craned his head to look at you, the light in his eyes barely flickering as he opened his mouth to rasp out his last words. "Run, sweetie…run."
Your heart seized up as his head fell lax, eyes glassy with death as he hung limp in the demon's hand.
With staggering steps you turned and ran. You ran for as long as you could, you don't even know how much time passed.
The police found you two days later curled up behind a dumpster, blood stains dotting your little pink dress
It was eight years until you saw Dante again.
After your father's death, that was ruled a violent mugging, you and your mother started fighting, first verbally, but by the time you were a teen your cheek was always stinging with a red hand print. She had always blamed Dante for you father's death, you wouldn't allow that.
You spent as much time away from home as you could, she didn't care. It wasn't long before you got involved in the underhanded side of town. Pedaling drugs became your first profession, mostly narcotics. Pills were easy to loot from your mother's plethora of little orange bottles.
One afternoon you were wandering the street, burnt out from lack of sleep and the various poisons pumping through your body. Your tired eyes scanned the street with a dead interest. But life flickered in your eyes when you spotted a head of white hair turned away from you.
You didn't even notice that you were sprinting toward him, eyes wide with hope. You came to a stuttering stop placing a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and you were met with familiar blue eyes.
You let out an almost hysterical laugh of disbelief. "Dante?"
His eyes were confused for a minute before they lit up with recognition. "(Y/N)?"
His eyes were wide and the cigarette between his lips almost fell to the ground as he took in your appearance, your (h/c) hair was ratty and disheveled and your eyes were rimmed black with a mix of eyeliner and sleeplessness. The large black hoodie you wore hung off your form and you jeans hugged your almost too thin legs. His brow creased in concern at how prominently your cheekbones and ribs stuck out.
But it was still you.
You grinned as you took him in. His choppy hair hung into his eyes, almost hiding the dark bags beneath them, this face was dotted with scrapes and bruises from telltale fights and his clothes were ratty and stained with blood and other unidentifiable substances.
But it was still him.
You flung yourself at him in a fierce hug that he returned with bruising force, reluctant to let you go. You both strolled the city talking until dawn began to shine over the horizon.
He had been playing almost the same game as you, living mostly off the streets, getting into trouble, making bad choices. You dealing, him fighting, both of you dabbling in illegal substances.
Neither of you regretted you decisions, they were in the past and at the time it was easier to get lost in an artificial haze than face your fears.
So there you were, sitting atop a brick wall, chatting and sharing stories of the eight lost years between you. But one thing he said affected you more than anything.
"You know I'm kinda disappointed," He stated, taking a drag from his cigarette before handing it to you. "I always pictured our reunion as being so grand. With me making something of myself and you being that same sweet little thing you were when we were kids." He sighed. "But look at us now, things sure do change."
You can't say it was the shame that affected you for being a delinquent, but more of the realization that you could be so much more.
You two kept well in touch after that, seeing each other on weekends and just messing around like the old days. Eventually he got his act together and started doing odd mercenary jobs. You did the same, going to school, taking medical classes, reading up on all your dad's old research your mom locked away in the attic. That's actually how you found out about Dante and Vergil's father and how they were hybrids, you almost weren't surprised. You also stumbled upon other things, most prominently an incomplete formula for human and demon DNA fusing.
Several years past and with it changes happened. You flew through two years of med school, well on your way to having a licensure and he was in the process of finding a shop to run his demon hunting business from. Between your busy schedules you still made time to hang out at least weekly, usually at a local bar, or if Dante was in a bad mood, you would do him the favor of accompanying him to a strip club.
One night you both drank a bit too much and he brought you home to your shameful apartment. All you knew is when you woke up on your couch you were naked and he wasn't there. That led to the first week you two didn't even speak out of fear of what have might happened. Neither of you quite knew what you felt for each other anymore.
One of those unspeaking nights you decided to stroll through the city. You didn't pay any mind to where you were going, you let the smog and curious noises of the night guide you thorough foreign twists and turns. You didn't know why, but it felt like there were invisible hands leading you through the unfamiliar concrete jungle, like you knew you had to go that way.
Out of the corner of your eye you spotted a head of white, you initially though it was Dante and made to turn away from the blue clad figure.
Wait, blue?
Your head snapped up to see icy blue eyes boring into your form, still as a statue. His snow white hair was slicked back and a blue trench coat rustled around his ankles. Your throat closed up around your words and you took a hesitant step towards him, almost afraid to move incase it might shatter the glorious illusion.
"Vergil…?"
With movements to fast for you to follow, he was standing before you. His ice eyes met yours and you were positive, that sophisticated and calculating gaze was the one you'd missed for so long over eleven years.
"It has been a while, (Y/N)."
Tears formed in your eyes when he spoke your name, his voice so deep and melodic that you were trembling.
"We…we thought you were dead." You whispered and, though you knew he wouldn't appreciate it, you hugged him tightly and he lightly returned the gesture. "Dante will be so happy." Your words were muffled into his coat as you took in everything about him; his muscular frame, his scent that reminded you of a library, the sound of his methodical heartbeat.
"Dante can't know." His voice rumbled through his chest and you pulled away to give him a curious look.
"What do you mean…? Of course he should…" That was when you caught sight of something that was never there before, a cold hatred. It scared you, sent an ominous chill down your spine; this would be nothing like your reunion with Dante, no talking and laughing. No, you found Vergil because he wanted you to find him, because he wanted something.
He pulled you back into his warm chest with firm arms and you felt the words rumble through his chest. "No, right now I only need you to know. Don't tell Dante, you can do that for me, can't you?"
You stomach twisted violently. Betray Dante? You couldn't, there was no way, he was your best friend, you couldn't. Despite your conscience your lips disobeyed and your hands clenched in his jacket.
"Yes, of course, Vergil."
For months afterwards he would drop in unannounced to pour over your father's research. He didn't tell you much of what he was looking for, but you helped him none the less, slowly making progress to a completed formula of combining human and Demon chromosomes in perfect sequence.
Your heart leapt every time you saw Vergil, but plummeted at the sight of Dante. Guilt was twisting you so painfully you could hardly look him in the eye. You hated yourself for doing this to him, you had a connection with the last of his living family and you wouldn't even tell him. You began to use again, trying to find your soul in the bottom a valium bottle. If you weren't passed out in a drugged up haze you were working on the formula. If you couldn't help one of them, you could at least help the other.
Dante ended up finding a shop. He didn't invite you over to help him set it up.
Vergil worked you harder than ever to find the formula. He still never told you why.
It wasn't until it was too late that you found out why Vergil finally made himself known. And he was lost forever.
You cried again, you hadn't cried since your dad's funeral. In the wake of mourning you and Dante reconnected and everything was good once again. You still worked on the formula, you figured it was your way of honoring Vergil's memory. After all he would stay up all night with you working on it, even after you slumped asleep against his shoulder.
You helped Dante on missions, messed around with Trish and tried to get Lady to give Dante a break on his debts. And with each other's help you mended each other's hearts.
One night you happened to stumble across a footnote in your father's manuscripts, the missing piece you needed. You found it. You finished the formula. You don't know what possessed you to do it, it was almost like those invisible hands from a year ago, but you prepared a syringe and injected yourself with the concoction.
You spent two days thrashing on the floor of your makeshift lab as the Demon DNA forcibly took over your cells, changing the very composition of your being. You had never felt such pain, it felt as though the blood in your veins turned to acid, burning away at your insides, driving you to the edge on insanity. If you could have moved you would have killed yourself for relief from the anguish.
When the pain subsided after two excruciating days you collapsed into your bed and fell into a comatose sleep.
That's when you started to see Vergil again.
You could see him in the demon world, he could see you. He whispered into your ear dreadful things, things that a sane Vergil never would say. Every night when you closed your eyes to disappear you saw him. He called out to your new demon side, sometimes you thought you could feel his weight pressing you into the mattress. He told you to kill for him, he didn't have a reason, he was lost in his own demonic blood just as you would soon be.
Dante was worrying about you. You would get splitting headaches and start mumbling crazy things and not remember that you said anything. Your eyes would flash with murder without reason. He was losing you again and he didn't even know what he was losing you to, he couldn't handle losing you again, his heart couldn't survive without you, the supports it so frailly rested on.
He wouldn't admit it, but he needed you, you were one of the only right spots in his otherwise dismal life.
Vergil needed you as well, you were as mad as he was now, you were the only one that could satiate his demon side and perhaps pull his humanity from the depths at which it had been imprisoned. He was using you again and you didn't care. You loved Vergil to a fault, you would do anything for him. You more than proved that when you lied to Dante for him.
You would black out and wake up somewhere you didn't recognize, it scared you, you were losing the fight for your mind. It was like a tug of war.
Dante often found you blacked out in an alley, behind a dumpster, next to a dead body. He carried you back to his shop every time and sat there for hours watching you in your dreams. It weighed heavy on his heart as he took in the sight of your clawed hands, and your razor sharp teeth.
You were turning into a rabid demon.
It took only weeks until you were almost completely broken. You took up a constant spot on Dante's couch, writhing in your constant sleep. Demonic growls and painful whimpers escaped your lips.
Whenever you came to consciousness Dante was at your side, gripping your hand and watching you with sorrowful eyes as you would rasp out in pain.
"D-Dante…it hurts, oh god, it hurts…" You took a shuddering breath. "I'm so sorry…I…I knew…I'm horrible."
He didn't know what you were talking about as your form shivered, but he placed a finger against your chapped lips and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"It's ok, I forgive you." He whispered kissing your trembling hand in his. "I love you, no matter what."
Tears streamed down your face and you jolted with a stab of pain, your screams echoed through the otherwise silent room. "Y-you…shouldn't…I don't…deserve…love."
With a cough blood spattered across the stark white sheet Dante had placed over you. Dante tried to quiet you, it broke his heart to hear the last of your words insulting yourself.
"Vergil…he" You couched violently between your words. "So sorry…I l-love."
Your body convulsed on its own accord again and moans of pain flowed from your lips, slowly changing into growls and animalistic snarls. Dante saw your eyes turning a shade of red and black that made him sick to his stomach. Trish walked forward from the corner she was leaning in to place a hand on his shoulder.
"It's time, Dante."
His eyes watched your writhing, snarling form and he regretfully knew she was right. He held your thrashing head still for a moment to press his lips to yours in a firm kiss, oh how he wished he had told you from the beginning, he wished he had figured it out before this.
He pulled away and stood, claws were expanding from your fingers and your teeth were growing sharp enough to slice up the inside of your own mouth.
"Should I do it?" Trish's sad melodic voice spoke from behind him.
"No." He never took his eyes away from you. "I should be the one to do it, I owe at least that to her."
He pulled Ebony from its holster and leveled it with your forehead. His stomach twisted as he pulled back the hammer. It took everything for him to not look away when he pulled the trigger and the shot echoed through the room, your howls of pain instantly falling silent.
He dropped his gun and turned quickly away from the sight of your bloody corpse. He felt bile rise in his throat as he took off out of the shop, throwing the door open so violently that it broke one of the hinges.
Trish watched his retreating form before turning back to your body. You were smart; you'd rather have died than become a monster.
A/N: I've never written serious angst before…how depressing. I hope to get the next chapter for 'An Angel's Allegory' out soon-ish. On an unrelated note…HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW DmC TRAILER?! I didn't know whether to cry or rejoice! Vergil is back, but he is totally fucked up! Please tell me I'm not the only one freaking out about this…
Anyways, thank you very much for reading, I have a little Halloween special that should be out that night worked out for Dante and, I'm not gonna lie, it is that one thing all fangirls love. Smut. So I hope to see you all there.