Chapter 2
Trish half-expected to see something uniquely entertaining when Lady made her know about Dante's new little problem. She could at least say that she was impressed when she found the white-haired male on his old-as-god ugly couch asleep while a human-looking baby crawling on the ceiling above him like it was nobody's business.
He shuddered out of his sleep as soon as Trish closed the doors behind her and immediately cursed as he jumped to the ceiling to snatch the child. The creature he was cradling in his arms immediately turned on many alarms inside Trish's head, a simultaneous urge of wanting to wrestle the child off his arms to kill it, or maybe just attend its cries of hunger.
Dante shushed to the little devil hybrid in his arms. Sufficed to say, Trish could tell from the tired look on his face and the mess over the shop's floor that her former job partner had absolutely no idea of what he was doing.
There was dried vomit all over his shirt, he noticed with resignation after mumbling something about 'glad I wasn't wearing the good coat'.
Apparently he's been trying to feed the creature with regular baby food while Lady was away looking into the city for a clue on the mother's whereabouts, so he was kept awake by the task of learning how to care of the baby. So when he took himself for granted and decided to take a quick nap, the baby just puked the food and decided to explore the shop for something to eat… Trish had to contain her laughter, even a guy as powerful as Dante had his own limits.
"You're starving her."
He steered a dead glare at Trish. "She just throws up everything I give to her."
"She's a baby demon. A little of your blood should nurture her body before she can begin to tolerate human food." His eyes widened in realization.
"Wait. Oh. Ohhh, damn, you're right."
Trish didn't know how Dante was raised before the death of his mother, but he probably haven't needed it since he was a baby himself, but it surely had to be the blood of his father Sparda to feed both him and his brother. Trish did fed on blood when she was just born… but she didn't really have to think about it. At least it was safe to assume that Dante's hybrid blood would be good for the child.
Dante went through a few drawers, found a dark blue dagger he must've discarded unceremoniously years ago, its edge was imbued with magic meant to hinder the natural regenerative qualities of plenty demons. It would be a very powerful weapon if it wasn't so small and useless in pretentious hands. The name of the dagger was probably… Cronus?, she didn't remember it well. It smelled like ocean salt.
He didn't find a practical way to cut himself and make it look cool, so he just sliced his index finger open, he seemed mildly amused about the fact that his wound didn't close immediately. Dante sat again on the couch and picked the baby in his arms, this time he offered his bleeding finger. He almost gasped when the baby instinctively started sucking the blood from the wound. She was drinking hungrily.
Trish didn't know how to feel upon this sight, she crossed her arms as she tried to scrutinize the face of her old friend and then the baby's now relaxed expression. It was… relieving to witness such a warm scene with Dante, and Trish somehow felt like a participant of this.
It was weird to be included again in something unrelated to devil-hunting, for once to not feel like an intruder.
It wasn't like he'd ever call her an intruder or a nuisance, but she could simply sense whenever her presence alone put Dante on edge, no matter how good he was at masking it. For once, Trish was glad that he had something nice to capture his attention, so he could ignore their mutual tension. They haven't really talked in months, and nobody was going to say sorry first, so the baby was a good excuse to act civil.
"Now you're staring" he said nonchalantly.
"She's very unlike most demon spawns I've ever seen."
"Yes, that's because she's part human, you dummy."
"You know I don't deal with human babies. They're all pretty gross."
"I couldn't agree more. Wanna try holding her?"
"Pass." To this, she slowly backed away. The mere thought of allowing her to take in her arms one very human-looking child unnerved her. She didn't want to dwell on the reasons why it made her feel that way.
But that begged for the question: what did Dante feel about this situation? Sure, the uncomfortable implications about Nicole abandoning the baby without an explanation raised some red flags and no doubt they'd be looking into it for a while, but Dante seemed strangely laid-back about it, especially for such a personal affair.
Then again, Dante was the same as Trish when it came to handling their emotional issues: act cool and pretend nothing bothered them.
"Lady told me that a good place to send the child would be Vie de Marli."
"Yeah, we talked about that. There's a community made up of human/demon hybrids right there. Haven't been there myself, but she has. The baby might be safer in that place."
"… And are you convinced?"
He arched one brow. "What're ya talking about?"
"I mean, it's not a bad plan per se. Granted, if they raise her right, they will make sure she becomes an apt hunter for their clan. But if that is what's meant to happen, what's all of that going to mean to you? Will she know from where she came from? Would you like her to know?"
"Hey, hey, hold on a second! Don't make me second-guess about this, Trish! You know that I'm not really a dad-kind of guy, not to mention that ninety percent of time I'm plain broke. That's the perfect recipe for disaster-parenting. And if she did stay, I would have to teach her how to fight anyway, just with less resources. Not to mention that me and everyone ever I care about are basically walking targets."
Trish chuckled. "… Those are actually very good points. I take everything back."
"Yes, thank you!" As Dante energetically agreed, the little one started to whine and he had to pull out the nasty drool-drenched finger from her little mouth. "Huh, even with Cronus the wound closes a little too fast."
"Ever thought about breastfeeding her? Even if you're male it could definitely work." Dante's mouth hung open in disbelief. "Just kidding."
She found it hilarious that Dante still looked down at his chest anyway and then squinted back at her in silence while he cradled the baby a little above the half of his chest. He believed her for a split-second.
Dante shook his head and put the baby back on the little cradle as he headed to the back of his shop. "I'm just gonna bleed on the bottle with the formula, maybe diluting it will make her grow out of it faster."
"Go do that."
When left alone with the baby, Trish stepped more closely, observing. She was fascinated with how odd the creature was.
Most demons were born with some sort of basic intelligence, most of them were born ready to fight and to die. This child was probably half a year old and exhibited none of the aforementioned. This is why human hybrids were greatly despised in her kind, they inherited the curse of their human mortality and their strength was gradual and ephemeral. In a world where weakness was seen as the ultimate sin, any semblance of humanity was considered disgusting.
But Trish didn't care. She learned to not care. Nobody was born strong and strength wasn't permanent. Nobody would say it out loud, but strength was overrated.
"You sure you don't want to hold her?" Dante asked again, Trish watched the baby with the attentiveness of a cat who just found a shiny thing. He was holding a plastic bottle that contained pink-looking milk inside, for the baby.
"You sure you want to trust me to care for a child?"
He scooped the child in his arms and offered the bottle's nipple to see if she'd pick up the hint. "Dunno, would you try to eat her?"
"I was considering it."
"Thought you were on a diet?"
"I can allow myself a few guilty pleasures. I've been such a nice girl."
"Heh, doubt it. But yeah… I was kind of hoping that you'd keep an eye on her at least for a couple of hours. I've been holed up in here since yesterday and a man needs to stretch his legs. Not to mention that I'm hungry."
There was probably still some food in his fridge, but he never picked anything from his fridge when he was hungry.
"Lady is going to yell at you for leaving the baby to me."
"I can live with that."
Trish chuckled, the baby didn't seem to like the mix of formula and it was spilling down her chin. "Thought that you liked the baby."
"What? No! I hate this small screeching vomit machine. Please, just take her off my hands." Trish smiled at his painfully blatant lie as he gently cleaned up the mess with his already dirty shirt.
"Whatever you say, Dante. Just don't say that I didn't warn you."
"So is that a 'yes'?"
Trish shrugged, the baby did manage to drink up a little bit of that milk without throwing up, so it could be called a progress? Dante looked cautiously satisfied.
"I'll watch over her, just don't expect me to carry her… And make it an hour, no more."
"Gotcha."
He had to throw away his vomit-stained shirt after he laid down the child on her little cradle. She was well-fed and tired, she'd probably fall asleep if she was left undisturbed, Trish wouldn't be able to accept any other possibility.
Dante said he'd be going out to pick up a pizza instead of calling for delivery; he really must want to take a walk, and maybe some much-needed moments to himself. Otherwise, they would both be forced to talk to each other about something other than the baby. It was almost an invisible mutual understanding of each other's boundaries set by their awkward partnership.
Trish would respect his desire to not talk about their problems as much as he expected him to not reopen old wounds. They were good at maintaining the peace, not working for closure.
….
Dante sighed as he left the shop, looked into his wallet and briefly counted his money. He might have to ask Harry again how much he had on his tab, see if he could pay it now. He didn't need to walk more than six blocks to get there on a normal pace. Perhaps he'd even eat right there. Somehow he didn't feel like eating in the shop with Trish watching, to hell if she wanted some.
The pizzeria's owner was reasonably surprised to watch the mercenary walk into his place when most of time he only called for delivery. Dante just sat on the first to the small array of tables and said: "Same as always, Harry. Make it two. And since when do you serve more than just pizza? Why is there's a whole secret menu here that I didn't hear about?"
Harry, the owner, who just finished talking to his cashier, sighed at Dante with a hint of exasperation. "That's just the regular menu, Dante. Has been right for the last three years."
"Why."
"Business needed to expand. Became more family-friendly and has worked well so far."
Dante shrugged it off and just waved at the chubby cashier girl on the other side, who blushed violently and waved back at him.
"Hey, no flirting."
"I was just saying 'hi'."
Harry mostly put up with Dante's shit because years ago he saved his life from a demon, back when business was barely open, but Dante wished he was just as thankful when it came to the pizza as he haven't paid in a few weeks.
"I'll just read the menu real quick while I wait for the pizza, I might order something to accompany it."
"Suit yourself."
Dante found himself glaring at the kiddie's menu for a little too long, looking at the chicken nuggets and small burgers (Burgers!? Since when!?). He didn't want to think about Trish's words or the girl. He just wanted to eat a whole pizza and forget that there was a smaller mouth that he needed to feed until it became someone else's problem.
The past two days have become the longest he's had in years; on top of having to look up on how to properly take care of a baby and having to clean poop and change diapers, Dante felt genuinely scared for the child. He tried to not have feelings about the baby, knowing that if he allowed it to happen, he'd be forced to acknowledge something he didn't want to.
He ate a little too fast. It was disgusting and the other customers and the cashier watched in both awe and horror as he devoured three quarters of the first meaty pizza by himself. Because of his job and type of body, Dante consumed a lot of energy and needed to eat more than a regular guy his size, but usually he liked to take his sweet time to savor the food. In the last few days he haven't eaten properly either.
He told Harry he'd have the rest of the pizza to take away after he paid, along what he already owed him. Dante left the pizzeria with his wallet considerably thinner. He bought a 6 pack of beer on the way back to his shop, knowing that he exceeded the time that he promised to Trish.
Vaguely he wondered if Trish didn't eat the child while he was gone. Vaguely he hoped that he didn't have to change another dirty diaper as soon as he entered.
Then again, changing a diaper would be the perfect excuse to not talk to Trish about their issues with each other. He did his best to pretend that their fight didn't still affect him, the baby was a good distraction, but he could tell how awkward it was for Trish to keep on being in the same room as he every time.
Yeah, he definitely could take changing another diaper
….
"Just look at yourself, this isn't like you anymore. What's happened, Dante?" Trish's hands were on her waist, looking down at him with icy blue eyes. He finished to drink another beer can. "Why are you still putting up with her?"
"How about you mind your own damn business?" His voice echoed in the shop, only the two of them were left in here, the absence of Nicole was suddenly all too noticeable. He just wanted to lie down on his desk for a little bit, was that too much to ask?
"Do you think you're fixing her with your human kindness? Is that what this is about?"
"Ugh. Shut up." He wasn't drunk enough for this kind of talk.
"No. Why are you letting her get away with all of this? Is pitying her really worth it?"
"Trish, I swear, if you don't shut up—"
"… For how long did you think we wouldn't realize there's something wrong?"
It was at that moment when he jumped off his desk's chair, his aggressive stance didn't make a dent on Trish's opposition.
"The hell d'you know 'bout what's good or bad for me?"
"She may act like a human, even feel like a human, but she's still bound to her instincts, instincts that she shows she cannot control wholly. You know that."
"How dandy that you put her demonic nature against her when you're yourself no better" he replied with a dark tone. That certainly made Trish flinch. "How do you think it feels like to wake up every day for me, Trish, knowing that there's you walking around my shop, wearing my mother's face? All while I have to remember that you took part on what happened to Vergil too? How do you think I feel?"
Trish gritted her teeth, and he tried to not look at her in the eye, keep himself from recalling his own mother's angry face. "Dante, that's not—"
"With what right do you judge Nicole when you've done much worse things to me? Get down from your high horse for a minute!"
"It's not the same thing…!"
"But it's not a lie!"
She was clearly hurt by his words, and Dante almost immediately regretted them, but he decided to stand his ground. It was easier to attack Trish rather than let her continue attacking Nicole, he decided. Of course it was base to use such tactics, but he's been hitting rock bottom for a while now.
The woman with his mother's face turned around and walked away, but stopped at the shop's door, so adamant on getting the last word.
"She truly loves you, I cannot deny that. But that doesn't mean that she knows the best way to show it."
It was in a sudden surge of rage and pettiness where Trish barely avoided getting hit by that can of beer, as it violently clashed against the door now closed. He cursed himself as his fingers dug into his messy hair, feeling deeply ashamed for his stupidity.
He knew that Trish was right, but he didn't want to hear it or accept it. It was too late to do that.
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