Author's note: Thank you once again to everyone who has reviewed, or added this to alerts. Now it's confession time for both of the twins....

Once again you have surpassed me Dante, though I had not expected this. You should have left me in the underworld, as this position we find ourselves in is indeed troubling. Your legs entwined around my own, your red leather jacket serving as a shield to hide us from any prying eyes, the mere sense of just how close we are to one another, all of these awaken my own unwanted desires. I know I should move, wake you and push you away, though I am suddenly reluctant to do so. You are warm, similar yet unfamiliar, and though I am loathe to admit it, our current situation is far from unpleasant.

I can feel you stirring now, waking from the jolt of our fall, and unconsciously my body tenses. I should have pushed you away. My actions were hardly subtle, will you recognise my sin and leave me? I hope not, though I fear I have revealed too much in one simple gesture.

I feel your warmth leave me, my eyes still closed as if I might feign injury as an excuse for my lapse of sense. I open my eyes tentatively, and note that we are once again on the roof of the Temen-ni-gru. As I assess the situation around me I see that Arkham lies sprawled at the edge of the tower, fatally wounded, though not by my hand or your own this time. A slight figure is curled up a foot away from him, her slender frame shaking with each sob. Your back is turned to me, red leather and white hair my only view of you as you walk towards Mary.

You are gentle, gentler than I had imagined you could be, as you kneel by her side and speak calmly to her. I could listen, yet I have no desire to hear. She reacts well, quickly even, to your touch, drying her tears and throwing her arms around your neck. Jealousy is an emotion I have always despised Dante, though now, watching you with Arkham's daughter I feel my inner demon snarl. I bite my lip, hard enough to draw blood though my unnatural healing abilities have sealed the wound before it can calm my rage. It therefore takes several seconds of self-control before I can look at you both again. Calmer now, I realise that I know Mary would be a good match for you, stubborn and driven as she is, as you both are. I see in her eyes as she looks at you that she feels the same.

You seem unfazed by her actions, though when she tries to kiss you I notice that you turn your head away. Relief soars through me, though I calm myself. I have been away from you for a year, if there was someone permanent in your life I would not know. Jealousy rises in me again, like bile in my throat. I consider who it could be that you have rejected Mary for. Whoever it is, I am sure, will be captivating, as you always were selective, though inconsistent, in your choice of partners. Myself I was more consistent, though equally demanding in my encounters. I never lacked for attention, though I am certain you considered yourself the handsome twin. I am still contemplating these posibilities, fighting back the vestiges of my envy, when your voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Vergil"

I look at you, stood opposite me as we have so often found ourselves recently. Your stance is relaxed, though this tells me nothing, you are rarely tense about anything. Your handsome features are calm and composed, a sight rarely seen in my impetuous younger brother, but you are ever full of surprises. One look in your eyes, however, incites a storm somewhere deep inside me.

My hand instinctively travels to my hip, though I find myself bereft of my beloved Yamato. I remember why, and a frustrated anger flares inside me. Why did you not allow me to fall along with her? There is nothing left here for me Dante, nothing in this world which would allow for me. Our positions suggest another fight, yet I find myself unprepared to fight you again, shamfully weakened from our previous encounters.

"Vergil"

Your voice interrupts my thoughts once more, and returns my attention to your handsome features.

"You let Yamato fall"

There is a tremble of anger in my voice, which sounds alien to me. I never allowed my emotions such reign over me before. I do however focus on my rage, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach which tells me you know, you must know, and dreads the confrontation which is certain to follow.

"Verge, I'm sorry"

Is that uncertainty in your voice brother? How very uncharacteristic of you. I intended to taunt you, a fight would be preferable to this stalemate we find ourselves at, and you were always easily tempted into rage. A single glance at your face however confirms my fears, you have realised what I had intended to keep hidden. Rebellion is still on your back, untouched, as you advance towards me. The time has come for confessions long overdue.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

I give a scoff of derision, before replying,

"Why do you think, brother?"

Though I realise from your words that you might have more insight that merely what has passed between us in the previous moments, and I understand that you have been following my own thoughts. Once again, despite myself, I am impressed little brother.

"Y'know Verge"

Again I fancy I hear a hint of trepidation in your voice, so unlike my brash, shameless younger twin. I wonder what exactly is it that has made you so nervous Dante? The expression on your face is devoid of the revulsion I had expected from you, instead an unholy curiosity shines in the depths of those blue eyes, so alike yet so dissimilar to my own.

"Everyone I dated, every time, I thought it would be different. It never was though, almost as if something was missing, y'know Verge?"

Oh I know. It is a sentiment I have shared for longer than I would care to tell you. Though perhaps you have already realised?

Your voice is lower when you next speak, more certain. It sounds more like a conspiratorial whisper than the challenge you usually present to me.

"Ever wonder why I always came to you-not mom, not dad-you when there was anything wrong? Why I was always around you, even though you made it clear you'd prefer to be alone?"

"What are you trying to say Dante?"

My voice sounds husky, with a slight quiver, for my body has turned traitor with you so close to me.

"C'mon Verge. Even you can't be that dumb"

I snarl at the insult, though your hand stops any words which might have followed, by reaching up to trace the line of my jaw.

"Dude you think too much"

And that may be true most of the time, perhaps has been true my whole life to this point, but not now. Your lips brush my own, and my mind abandons all sense of coherent thought in favour of the sensations my sharpened senses are currently delighting in. Have you truly wanted this too Dante?

Your breathy reply is all I have ever needed to hear.

"Yes"