A/N: OK - this was a really long WIP - I've been working on this story on and off for about 2 months now... and I think that its able to stand up and be read! and it will also make it easier to remember what chapters I've sent to her and what not!!!

This is the first time I've done any fan fiction so I hope that you like it.

I've tried to keep it in line with DMC cannon - so this technically should fit in between DMC1 and 2.

Yeah DMC belongs to Capcom... lucky things!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been long. Way too long. But in Vergil's eyes maybe not quite long enough. Only time would tell. He sat on the platform gazing at the departure boards. He had been waiting for what felt like forever, but when he checked his watch it had only been about a quarter of an hour. He wished the train would hurry up and get here so he could get on it and go home. He was tired and filthy, exhausted and miserable. A good hot bath was sounding like heaven.

The board, however, mocked him. Time seemed to stand still, the seconds ticked by at a slower rate than normal, even though life bustled on around him.

He stretched on the hard metal bench and felt the coldness through his jeans as he moved and shifted position trying to get comfortable. He propped his legs up on his case. He wondered just how come his bag was that filthy, it was new when he left, it was a present and he had tried to look after it the best he could. The bench was starting to be uncomfortable again. Train stations are not for lingering Vergil decided. He glanced up and the boards and looked away disgusted. Mocking boards.

Vergil let his gaze drift, trying to figure out how to pass the time quicker when he spied a couple of students. At least he thought they might be students. Both had large rucksacks with them, with the mandatory trinkets hanging from them. They seemed to be arguing over a map.

"Bloody tourists" Vergil muttered with a grimace, then he inwardly laughed. To the untrained eye he would look like one too, what with his unkempt appearance and large bag. Oh what would he do for a pot of hair gel. He looked longingly at the chemist, he had no money on him. The travel was booked in advance by the internet, where he had been he had no need for money.

The two girls continued to argue, but they didn't seem to be putting much of an effort into it, Vergil listened in and it seemed to be a good natured argument about what way up the map was meant to be and how to find the underground from here. Vergil smiled, they seemed happy and relaxed. Maybe they were on a gap year and decided to take some time out in London, maybe they were just on holiday. The seemed to be very close friends and were very animated in their argument. They were now pulling faces at one another and flapping their arms about.

"The 8.46 service is arriving on Platform 15. That's the 8.46 service on Platform 15."

Vergil leapt to his feet. In watching the two girls he had forgotten the time. Platform 15. It would have to be the furthest away from where he had stationed himself. He hissed in pain as he shouldered his bag, maybe getting up so quick was not an idea. He had no idea how long it would take before he healed completely, he healed fast, but this pain had been with him for most of his journey. He had almost forgotten for a second just how taxing the past months had been on him, and as the pain dulled to a throbbing ache he figured he wouldn't forget for a while.

Vergil took a deep breath, picked up his sword. His lovely sword, Yamato. Vergil looked longingly at the weapon. It had been through thick and thin with him, he hardly ever was without it. He smiled to himself as he stroked the weapon affectionately. Considering how much had happened to him the damage to the weapon was superficial, a little cleaning and sharpening should sort it out. Of the battle scars on the casing, that was a different matter. He could polish and restore the colour, but the actual deep wounds would not be removed. He sighed. He had many scars to his name, not all of them physical.

He shook himself out of his memories and reminded himself platform 15. he repositioned the bag and strode off towards his new destination. He smiled and nodded at the girls as he walked past. They giggled and waved back. Due to his fantastic hearing he could hear them discussing his attire, his hair and lastly his behind. He almost laughed out loud as he walked away. He was surprised at how nice it felt to have a compliment after all this time. He would give anything for one from him, the one person in the whole world he was sure didn't want to see him.

The blonde girl screamed. Vergil looked up and turned round. Maybe his appearance wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. He hurried back towards them and stopped as he saw the looks of terror on their faces. Blimey, he thought, I hope it isn't me.

Then he heard it. Or rather he felt it. It started as a deep throbbing in his bones and then a ringing in his ears. He knew that this was not what had made the girl scream as humans wouldn't pick up on the demonic vibes like he would. The ground had begun to vibrate, maybe this was what had spooked her?

"Everybody stay calm," A policeman had come out of nowhere and was trying to make people calm and control the situation. Silly human. "Its just a train stopping a little to fast and causing a disturbance. Nothing to worry about."

Vergil raised an eyebrow. Train stopping too fast? Oh how he had missed the humans with their silly explanations for the demonic activity in the world.

Vergil took a deep breath and put his bag down. Hopefully he still had the magic charm that humans found compelled to obey.

"Excuse me, officer!" Vergil strode towards them with slightly more of a limp than he liked. He hated to look weak. The officers looked up. Two of them, that would tax him a little more of there was trouble.

Vergil stopped short. Both officers had their hands resting at their hips on their guns. Guns. Since when did the police in London carry guns? He walked forward a few more steps and noticed their started to grip the guns.

"Just put it down, sir." The first officer had drawn their gun "We don't want any trouble here". He seemed to be the higher authority, he had a few different coloured badges under his name tag whereas the other did not.

Vergil was confused. Put it down. He wasn't carrying anything. Then he remembered his sword.

"Damn" he hissed under his breath, then louder to the men "It's ok, I'm not going to hurt anyone." He made calming gestures with his hands, well he thought they were calming. The officers seemed to take it as a threat, however, as the other one had now drawn their gun. What was wrong with people, he'd not been away that long. But then again, he was never the stronger at communications with the humans, he had come to loath them. They only got in the way and ended up getting hurt.

He tried again, "I've just returned from Asia" he gestured towards his large bag, "I've been training there and honing my skills"

The second officer had just called for back up. Ok maybe being honest was not a good thing. Humans just didn't understand the ways of the world, they would rather explain away the existence of other life with a disaster story, like when he raised the Temen-Ni-Gru. He shook his head to focus. Memories were memories, there was nothing that could be changed about the past.

The tower still stood. The humans made up a rather impressive cover story about it being the result of an earthquake many eons ago. The temple was built to open the portal to the demon world. Vergil's father had closed it, along with his powers on the other side, to the mortal world. The he vanished before Vergil had gotten to know him. Vergil hated the humans with a passion back then. The only one he had loved was his mother, she was perfect to him. Then she was stolen away before her time and he begun his downward spiral into his own hell and ran away from her lifeless body into the dark night. Vergil had been contacted during this spell of weakness by a strange dark figure who wanted to open the portal. The portal was opened, but it hadn't remained for long and it closed with Vergil on the other side in the hell dimension. It had taken great courage and strength to escape it. Once he had he didn't return to his old life. He found the humans had glossed over all that had happened and forgotten the terror that it had inflicted on the world. All of his efforts had been in vain. He tried to get back to his normal life, but he couldn't face being forgiven by the one person he needed to be forgiven by and after a much heated argument he had left for Asia. He now felt that he was able to return after the months of hard training and spiritual enlightenment. He had not expected this when he returned.

Somehow the power from the tower, albeit dormant power, was making it easier for demons to pass through from their world to here. Why they needed to terrorise this world was something he had never found out while being there and while in Asia. Something about this world seemed to draw them. Maybe it was the innocence that they had lost, maybe it was the fear they inflicted, maybe it was loneliness. It could have been any number of things. What was most important right now was that there were two police officers with guns pointed at them, a glowing circle in the air behind him and, damn it to hell, his train was going to leave in fifteen minutes. He wasn't about to miss that train for anything.

"Please excuse me officers." Vergil turned with a new objective. Screw trying to calm and get rid of the humans, just slaughter what was going to come through this portal and get the hell on that train! He glanced up at the clock, he had time, he had time.

A bright white light suddenly sprang from no where. Vergil had to shield his eyes. A soft sobbing sound was coming from it. He peered from between his fingers and was shocked to see an image of his mother crying in the light. He reached out to touch her. Even crying she was still beautiful. You could tell where he got his good looks from, and he could appreciate what his father saw in her. She was perfect, an angel. Then Vergil remembered that this light had come from a portal from hell. He pulled his sword free and slashed the sphere in two. Each side hit the floor with a soft clink. One bounced a couple of times, the other shattered with a tinkle that sounded almost magical.

A girl was standing in front of him. She was about 6 years old and by Vergil's estimation scrawny. He was skinny after all, toned but skinny, but this girls skin was almost falling off her bones from being so underweight. She was crying and rocking herself back and forth. Vergil was confused. He had expected a demon. He was agitated and bounced from foot to foot. The girl continued to sob. He looked around and saw that the policemen and backpackers were just staring in shock at him. He wondered what they could actually see. He was never quite sure, some of the demons he had come across were powerful enough to mask themselves from the moral world.

He sheathed his sword and knelt down.

"Are you ok?" he whispered to the girl. This was awkward. He wasn't a child person.

"Please don't send me back mister." The girl had not looked up at him, she mumbled from behind a mess of hair and her hands. "Please."

He sighed, maybe this was one of the rare tortured souls that had been sent to hell as a sacrifice. He had met a few on his journey, none of them being children though. He couldn't start to imagine what this poor child had gone through and what she would continue to go though. Spirits don't age. She died when she was six, and would be for eternity.

"Come here," he opened his arms in an awkward hug "it'll be ok."

The girl looked up at him. She grinned.

"Crap"

The girl suddenly leapt up and into his arms. To late he tried to block her and stand up in one motion. She was latched onto his face with a vicelike grip. She cackled and laughed at him. She scratched at his eyes and spat in his face. Roaring with pain and rage he managed to throw her off where she hit the wall with a sickening thud.

Vergil lent forward onto his knees and panted for a second. What the hell what that? He touched his face and felt the scratches. His fingertips had blood on them when he looked at them. He took his sword out to use it as a mirror. The scratches were deep but they were already starting to heal. There was too much blood on his face for it to be just his. He realised that the child demon had been crying blood and spitting it in his face.

The first officer came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah." Vergil regretted his show of weakness, he was not weak.

"Here." One of the backpackers was holding out a packed of wet wipes. "looks like you need these." She smiled at him, a little scared, but it was a kind gesture all the same.

He didn't know where to look. Thankfully the blood on his face covered the blush. Kind treatment was not something he was familiar with.

"Thanks!" He tried to sound friendly, but to his ears he sounded harsh and cold. The girl was visibly shocked too.

"I was only trying to be nice!" and she stalked off. Vergil was taken aback at her boldness, he liked her attitude, it reminded him of someone he loved.

"Hey!" He called after her "I'm sorry, I've been having a bad day, really I am thankful." He tried to smile again and was rewarded with a wave and a smile back.

"Last call for platform 15"

Vergil grabbed his bag, said his apologies to the officers and ran over to where the demon child was wounded. He knew it wasn't dead as it had not evaporated. They always did when they were killed. They were not of this world and once their life force was exhausted they were returned someplace else.

Vergil looked down at the pathetic creature. It clawed at his boots and tried to spit blood up at him again. Its head had been smashed in and what was left of it was making a mess on the floor, and now his jeans. They were the only clean pair of trousers that he owned! Everything else was in his case and it was all filthy. Swiftly he drew his sword and stabbed the creature in the heart, drawing a soft murmur and a childlike sigh as it disappeared. Maybe it was a soul of a child that was killed by someone. Maybe it had finally returned to heaven. Maybe it was something else entirely.

Vergil ran to the gates and vaulted them, much to the ticket persons disgust. She shouted after him and he just ignored her. This was his train and he was going to make it. He ran down the platform as fast as he could. He considered triggering, but with the little strength he had left he felt it was futile, it would exhaust him just to turn. Luckily it seemed that it was his day, he snorted to himself as he sat down in the almost empty compartment. Lucky? He returned to London to face a demon in front of god knows how many humans, and to top it all off he had demon goo on his jeans and blood all over his face. He plucked a wet wipe from packet and used the window as a mirror. He was horrified to see how pale and gaunt the events had left him. He hoped there would be a refreshment trolley, he had paid for a good seat, which meant there would be free drinks, even it was just water that would do.

"Drink, sir?" The woman smiled at him. He jumped, he must had dozed off.

"Yes, thanks." He chose from the drinks offered and selected a large lump of ice and asked for a tissue.

"Certainly, sir" The waitress gave it to him. Vergil promptly pressed the tissue to his face, the cuts were burning a little, it might have been the demon blood from the child thing. Either way the ice was soothing.

He stared out the window, only a few more stops and he would be almost home. Just a few more and he would see if it had all been worth it. Time to find out if he had done enough to be forgiven.

Vergil closed his eyes and slept.