Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry, but I think I should. There would be less fighting and more twincest. :3
AN: Wow, I feel like I'm really taking a departure from my ususal series to do this. I just recently beat the third DMC, and then I borrowed the first one from a friend, and since obtaining the X-BOX360, I've been hooked on the fourth one. Usually, I enjoy my strategic FFs, but I just have to cut loose every now and again to beat the shit outta demons. XD
I'm a bit new to the DMC series, so a bit of this might be... shaky. I did my best, though. This takes place between the DMC3 and the first DMC. Wow, that's weird, even when I write it. XD AND YES, this is TWINCEST, meaning that Dante and Vergil are slightly romantically involved (though the implications of romance are very few, sadly...). If that's not your kind of thing, I'd suggest clicking the "Back" button now. Feel free to flame, however, but exepect a nice, lengthy reply from me.
This is split into two parts because of length, rated "T" for dropping the "G-D" and "F" -bombs (both, of course, from Dante's mouth), and I apologize for my rambling. XD
Enjoy~
EDIT: I realized too late (after I had posted this) that Vergil didn't have the ForceEdge, and I wrote that he did. And my OCD for canon couldn't prevent me from just leaving it alone. So there. Enjoy... NOW. :D
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Birthdays - Part I
By Eden
Within the dimly-lit room-for it might be classified as a room, as it had walls, though the walls weren't exactly made of what normal walls would be made of; flesh usually wasn't available for forging houses-walked a lone figure. And then came a voice. It was a calm voice, sure and steady, and never once faltering:
"Lord Mundus, are you there?"
A glow resonated within the darkness, disembodied from the walls, and yet part of them. The three fiery orbs choreographed themselves in a distinct triangular pattern as it answered the voice.
"Of course, Vergil. I am always here. What is so important that you would rouse me from my rest?"
Vergil, the owner of the calm, sure, steady voice, (and who had long since abandoned his long blue trenchcoat for a not-so-subtly evil suit of black armor) bowed to his master and said, "Lord Mundus, I have been... thinking."
"Oh?" was all that the three orbs said. Short and sweet, but it was clear to Vergil that his master was not pleased that one of his pawns had actually stooped to thinking. Doing that meant that he might have the cognition to actually do things autonomously from the puppet master. Vergil knew that actions like these would surely cost him his free will in the future.
"I am aware of your recent interest in the human world. Phantom and Griffon have made your intentions clear to me. However, and I do not mean to say that you are at all inferior, but there is much about the human world that is still unclear to you."
The three orbs seemed offended; it was apparent by the brightening of the calm red glow to a burning crimson.
"Vergil, I have been to the human world! To say that I know nothing of it is blasphemous!"
The walls began to quake, but Vergil quickly interjected with, "Please, Mun-I mean, Lord Mundus, I meant that the human world has definitely changed since your last visit, and I think that it would be wise for someone to... scout ahead."
Shuddering within the walls ceased, and Mundus' fire lessened.
"Ah, I see. How wise of you," Mundus said, though there still seemed a lingering caution in his resounding voice. "And so you wish to go to the human realm to do this... scouting?"
"Do you not trust me?"
The three orbs were quiet for a small time, and Vergil could tell that Mundus was thinking. Then: "Very well, Vergil; I do believe that you are worthy of my trust. After all, haven't you proven to me time and again, with both your skill and diligence, that you are truly my 'Nelo Angelo'?"
Vergil smiled, leaning deeper into his bow as to hide it from his master, "I should think so, Lord Mundus. I have served you faithfully until now. When I challenged you all that time ago, you spared me, and ever since then, I have kept my promise of loyalty."
Vergil knew he was playing it up, but the three glowing orbs seemed pleased.
"Then go. Go to the human world. And do not return until you have fulfilled your mission."
The spheres dissipated and Vergil raised his head. He handled the hilt of his sword; the twisted smile on his face was unmistakable.
"Ugh, goddammit, tastes like fuckin' vomit."
The clatter of the bottle against the hardwood floor resounded throughout the empty office, and Dante was left to stare up at the ceiling. He had hoped that after downing his third bottle that the liquor might start tasting more appealing, but unfortunately, the more he drank, the fouler it became.
Two weeks since a job. Not a single customer in need of any demon slaying. What the fuck was up with that? Didn't demons always find a way to sneak into the human realm, wreaking havoc, causing mass mayhem and homicides by the hundreds? Wasn't there any of that going on anymore?
Dante guessed not. Hell, he hadn't had to put on his damn jacket in a week. He may as well have been laying there naked. He was certain no one would walk in on him. And even if someone did, well, was that really so bad?
And it was here that his mind began to wander.
Ugh, he hated it when it came down to this: just him, and the ceiling.
Because then came the silence, and then came the memories.
Sometimes he wondered if his mother was in Heaven. Seriously, if Hell existed, shouldn't the opposite be out there, somewhere, as well? Or perhaps God, or whatever, was so pissed off at her for getting it on with a demon that she was dipped into the worst oil-vat in Hell.
He wondered if Lady was okay. She could take care of herself, Dante was certain. Ever since she had murdered her father, that demonic Arkham, he knew that she was probably much more... liberated, less caged. He sincerely hoped for her happiness... even though she did shoot him in the goddamn head.
And then... sometimes, when everyone else had passed through his thoughts, he began to think about...
No, he wouldn't.
He just couldn't.
Those memories were ones that were better left alone...
He scratched his bare chest once, and he began to drift. Drift off... somewhere.
The birthday cake consumed, the twins meandered into the gloom, watching as the fireflies danced through the spaces of twilight. One bounced on his heels, blissfully content with the hike through the forest; the other walked silently, brushing aside vines that tickled the bare skin of his arms and legs.
"You think Mom'll have any more presents for us when we get back, Vergil? I mean, those two amulets she gave us were pretty, but not all that impressive. I don't know what was so important about 'em for her to tell us to take good care of them. I was kinda hopin', ya know, for something more... high-tech."
Vergil, the quieter of the two (obviously), remained impassive, as per usual. He was always thinking, always trying to reach out and grasp what was beyond him. Never content. Always reminding himself that he and his counterpart never quite belonged in any realm. His mother never spoke of it, but he knew. He just knew. Because it was so obvious. Painfully obvious.
"Greed is a sin, Dante," Vergil prodded jokingly. "Aren't you afraid of going to Hell for that?" And of course, Vergil wouldn't have minded going there, if only once. There was no way it was as bad as everyone said it was.
Dante ceased bouncing a moment or two, contemplating this question, before going back to the land of childhood in which he was so deliriously encased. Of course, this was due to the fact that he was only ten-well, eleven now-and he had a right to be happy-go-lucky. Every kid did, even if he wasn't exactly normal.
But enough of that.
"Nah. You think too much, Verg. You should live a little!"
Bounce, bounce, and the fireflies skittered into the brush. They had made it into the clearing, where in the center of the meadow stood a large weeping willow, its ancient branches beginning to droop with age.
"And maybe you live too much," Vergil muttered back, smoothing out the wrinkles in his blue t-shirt as it snagged on a branch. Dante, however, hadn't heard him, for he had already grappled his fingers into the rough bark and begun his trek up the side.
"Last one up's a rotten egg!" Dante yelled out, his white hair swooping in a sudden updraft, causing the unsteady branches to suddenly sway.
"Dante, we're too heavy to climb up this thing! I swear, if I have to carry you back with a broken, bloody nose, I'll beat you to a pulp, and Mom said that-"
"Awe, you scared?" Dante taunted his same-faced brother, climbing up into the branches, resembling a monkey, if only for a moment.
Vergil felt his face redden. He prided himself on being a rational, responsible person; he should have just allowed the mockery to roll right off of him. However, a challenge was a challenge, and he still had his honor.
"I'll make you eat those words!" Vergil called up, his voice hitching with something as unpracticed as excitement, as his skinny arms latched around the giant tree and he began his scramble to catch up to Dante. However, he already knew that his twin was miles ahead of him, and after squishing multiple lightning bugs, getting their sticky neon goo on his fingers, and being scratched up by twigs and leaves, he was met by a grinning Dante at the top. The boy was stretched out on the branch in a self-proclaimed "victory pose."
"You, my friend, are so a rotten egg. So rotten, I could smell you all the way from up here."
"Shut up."
The two silenced as the night began to settle around them. A cricket chirped here, a spring peeper called out there. The month called for warm, sound-filled darkness, in which the two boys were silently in awe.
"You think... thing's'll always be this nice? That me and you will always be together, and Mom'll always be taking care of us?"
Vergil started at the sudden sound of Dante's voice. It was filled with such reflection and sadness that it scared the more serious boy. Dante and remorseful words didn't exactly go together like socks and shoes or rhyme and reason.
And-as time had passed and this same question had popped into Vergil's mind more than once-it made him uncertain as to how he should answer the inquiry of his sibling. He loved Dante, almost as much as he loved himself. They were twins, after all. The most inseparable of beings. At times, Vergil wondered if they were supposed to have been one entity, but were instead split into two.
And then Dante would do something completely stupid to prove how different they truly were.
But, all the same, Vergil loved Dante, and Dante loved Vergil.
Still... was love enough?
Vergil put his arm around his other half, pulling him close, and a smile tugged at Dante's lips as he answered, "Of... of course, Dante. Don't worry about it."
Vergil opened his eyes, the surroundings blurred slightly. Whether it was from the moisture in his eyes or the transfer from one dimension to another, he wasn't about to question.
The memory was always painful to him, especially now that he had immersed himself so deeply into being Nelo Angelo. At times, he wished that Mundus had decimated him instead of allowing him to live. Then he could have died, still truly Vergil,and wouldn't have to be plagued with these haunting images of a life long past.
And maybe... what if Dante had managed to capture his hand as he was falling back into the pits of Hell?
He remembered the last time he had seen Dante-that look of utmost hatred melting away into nothing, being replaced with something similar to concern and love. It took Vergil's breath away to think that Dante would still care for him, even after all the things he had done to him, even after all the hatred and battles and bloodshed.
Once more, Vergil had to push all of these things away from him, as far away as possible.
It was best that he kept those memories caged.
He would see Dante soon, anyway.
Very soon, he knew.
As Vergil began to trek down the rain-swept street, he simply allowed his face to become drenched in wetness. He wasn't sure when he would ever be able to feel this free again.