A/N: Good day to you boys and girls, and what a fine day it is. To be finishing SCHOOL that is! That's right, little Arianni is growing up – I'm free in 5 days, then it's off to schoolies (similar to spring break, I spose). On an entirely different note, thankyou so much to everyone who reviewed. For today's chapter I've added a couple of things; you'll see. Now, let's get back to our favourite fighting couple, Dante and Lady.
Disclaimer: OMGidontowndmcimsosorrylol
"…A coward," Lady finished her sentence. "I bet you don't even have the guts to test the dagger on yourself."
Dante's eyebrows arched and he inspected the blade seriously before looking at Lady. "Like I said Lady, this dagger, although pretty to look at…" he tossed it in the air, sunlight glinting off the surface, "It's just not a good weapon." Dante caught the spinning weapon effortlessly by the hilt and grinned at her. "…Kinda like you."
Lady opened her mouth to retort this latest insult, but remembered that tactics were more important than verbal abuse when it came to physiological warfare. Instead of glaring and empting a few clips into him, she pursed her lips and cocked an eyebrow. "Well, if it's not a good weapon, you'll have total confidence cutting yourself."
"Sorry, not into the whole emo thing."
"Come on! You're so damn sure. Do it," said Lady sassily.
Dante shrugged and put the blade to his left wrist. "Whatever," he said. "If it'll help you sleep better at- AAAAAAAH!" He dropped the freshly stained dagger and gripped his shaking wrist. Blood poured down his arm, branching into little red streams.
"Ow! DAMNIT, that smarts! AGH!" A river of curses and exclamations flew from the devil's mouth as Lady calmly walked over, picked up the dagger and stared at him with smug satisfaction.
"I hate to say I told you so, but…well actually I don't," she smiled down nastily, for Dante was doubled over, clutching his wrist as if afraid it would fall off. Lady actually sauntered back to the fountain to rinse the blade, and sheathed it. She was quite proud of herself – she'd beaten him. Not in strength, or speed, or agility – but in wit. Unfortunately, Lady hadn't really thought about the consequences of her victory.
"Why won't it heal? And why does it fucking hurt so much?" Dante snarled, suddenly glaring up at her.
Lady blinked. There was malice there. A cruel but dormant fury lacing his voice she had never heard before. It frightened her, before she pulled herself together and hastily began swirling her bandages in the water.
"Because, Dante," she said, "This dagger has old magic. If you're dying to know, it's the power of my ancestors. My family. Female demon hunters, like me. I don't know how it works, but it has theirs, and my mother's, love. Something…that's lethal to any demon."
For some reason she couldn't bring herself to repeat the words she'd said to Vergil. Dante was a demon, yes, but maybe he'd understand. She could have sworn she heard him mutter, "Family, huh?"
That was all he said, so she considered the conversation closed. She focussed her attention on her washing task. A semi comfortable silence fell, and Lady found this uncharacteristic of Dante; he was always wise-cracking or saying something. Upon listening, she noticed that his breathing had become shallow, and rapid.
Lady glanced up to see he hadn't moved; his face cast in shadow from his silver hair. He was trembling. His right hand, which was clutching the wound, looked like it had been dipped in red paint. Lady stared incredulously.
"Why don't you stop the bleeding?" she asked.
"I…I-I don't know how."
She couldn't believe her ears. Did Dante just…stutter? He jerked his head up to meet Lady's gaze, his face in full view, and her heart skipped a beat. For the first time, she saw fear in the half demon's eyes. He suddenly seemed more human than ever before….
But then his hair fell into his eyes, a snarl curled his lips, and he was a devil once more. The snarl wasn't from pain though, as Lady was about to find out.
"Lady…can you…please…help me?" rasped Dante.
She didn't know whether to laugh or vomit. It must have taken him a great deal of courage to ask for help, let alone from a human, and furthermore from a demon hunter.
But he is. He's reaching out. Demons don't do that, thought Lady. Then she realised she hadn't actually answered him.
"Don't you know first aid?" she sneered half-heartedly, buying time.
Dante's reply was more ragged breathing, and Lady let out a little growl of irresolution, fighting with herself. She could help him…or she could leave him here to suffer. A human man would bleed out and die, but she knew Dante's demonic genes would take care of that. However, he would still lose a lot of blood, and could quite possibly lose consciousness as well.
It would do him good to feel some pain once in a while, she thought bitterly. Then a freshly buried memory dug itself up to replay in her head.
Lady's breath rasped in her throat as she fought tooth and nail, trying to keep the demons at bay. She had slain many, and now another one crumbled to powder, its blade clanging to the ground just out of her reach. Lady slipped on the dust and a sickle glanced her left side, tearing through her white shirt and into her skin.
She screamed and ducked as the devils, spurred by her injury, slashed more feverishly. She couldn't fight much longer…the demons were closing in for the kill…Lady closed her eyes and cursed herself for not lasting longer…
Suddenly the sounds of twin gunfire made her open her eyes and look around wildly. Eight demons disintegrated, their remains scattering all over her. Lady didn't care; she saw a blur of red material, and a gun flying towards her. She snatched it from the air and shot at the grey demon in front of her, dimly aware of the silver-haired man at her back, firing away…
She owed him her life. After betrayal, debt was one of the things Lady hated the most. The frown on her lips progressed into an ugly scowl and she slapped the bandages onto the pool side with a loud smack.
"I can't owe you anything!" she cried at Dante.
The half-demon glanced up at her, confusion adding to the pain. Lady left the bandages to dry and made her way towards him. Dante sighed in relief so quietly that Lady's human ears couldn't pick it up. She stood before him and grabbed his hand none too tenderly. Dante winced.
"Hey, Lady?"
"What."
"…Thankyou. For this."
For the second time, Lady couldn't believe her ears.
He did not just thank me. Demons don't DO that. They don't care who or what helps them, as long as they live. What is wrong with him?
Lady froze, Dante's blood slowly trickling through her fingers. At length she said nothing and pulled his wrist up to inspect it, receiving a sharp bark from Dante.
"Careful!" he growled.
Lady ignored him and fanned his fingers to flatten his wrist. The cut was quite deep, at least a few centimetres. Ripped skin and muscle tissue hung limply around the oozing wound. Lady noted with a mixture of fascination and uneasiness that half-demon blood was in fact, crimson. Red human blood, plus black devil blood.
To check for nerve damage, she poked at a piece of torn flesh. Dante exclaimed and jerked his wrist out of her grip, cradling it against his chest.
"That hurts!" he shouted accusingly.
Lady put her hands on her hips and retorted, "I didn't even touch the damn cut! Don't be such a baby!"
Dante backed away and threw his hands up in frustration with a grimace. The crimson trickle from his wrist increased in width. Lady noticed.
"Dante, don't do that…"
"Don't do what?" said Dante angrily, accenting his last word with a sharp flick of his hands. Blood sprayed the floor. "You're the one that's pulling me to pieces!"
Lady's temper flared. "You demon idiot, I was assessing the damage!" she snapped.
"Yeah? Assess this." Dante gave her the finger with his injured hand.
Well now that's real mature…oh, shit…
Too busy arguing with Dante, Lady had forgotten about the increased blood flow. Now that she looked, blood was dripping from his palm like heavy rain.
"Dante…"
But he was off on a sarcastic rant. "No! Don't say sorry; I know you'll take any chance to kill me!" He waved his arms around theatrically, and Lady's eyes widened. "That's what you hunters do, right? You're all the same." Dante pointed at her with his injured hand with a jerk, spraying blood.
Lady felt something wet touch her collarbone. She looked down to see flecks of crimson starting to trickle down her chest - her eyes widened in horror.
"…'Destroy all devil scum! We know exactly what they are: evil! Who cares about them? Who cares if some of them are different? Who cares if they've got family?' Who…uungh…"
The half-demon swayed and dropped heavily to one knee, his breath coming in deep pants. Little did he know he would experience that same feeling again soon, once he held the Neo Generator. Lady silently damned the demonic circulatory system and its efficiency. She quickly wiped at the blood on her chest and sprang forward, seizing his shoulders. "Dante. Dante, can you hear me?" she said in a controlled voice. He nodded.
"I need you to stay with me. Can you do that?"
"Yeah," he muttered, silver hair dipping in front of his eyes.
Satisfied he wasn't going to pass out (for now), Lady grasped his uninjured hand and clasped it over the gash. Dante drew breath between his teeth and looked up sharply, then swayed from it. Quickly explaining the concept of pressure and bleeding, Lady leapt up and jogged back to her soaking bandages, all the while wondering if he had meant all those things he said.
She saw that most of the blood had washed out, but the material was still stained.
I'm not tearing off more bandages for him. He'll have to give me some of that coat for new ones for me, she thought. She wrung the sopping cotton out best she could before returning to Dante. She swatted his good hand away and began bandaging the wound, her practised fingers working deftly. No sooner had she completed second wrap did Dante emit another groan and swayed forwards – right towards her. Lady caught a whiff of his musky boy smell as his head drooped over her shoulder. She wondered for a second how much Dante weighed…
"No-no-no, you stay with me, remember?" she said. He would certainly crush her if he collapsed on top of her. Grunting with the effort, she pushed him upright with one hand while the other kept pressure on his injury. Also biting her consciousness was a thought on repeat: she had to save him. He had saved her, a fact Lady could not face until she returned the favour. Then they could both get back to their own objectives, which were…stopping Vergil.
Lady hated to admit it, but the half-demon whim she was trying to keep conscious wanted the exact same thing she did. "Dante. Dante, I'm going to keep going, ok?" warned Lady.
Dante could barely hold his head up anymore; his breathing was still tattered and loud.
"Ok," he murmured.
He was acknowledging her presence; that was good. Lady bent her head and spun the material around his hand, weaving between thumb and palm, working her way up his wrist. She spoke to him occasionally like her first aid training taught her to keep his mind active. It was mostly basic questions, and involuntarily, Lady found out a fair few things about Dante.
"What's your full name?"
"Dante Alighieri Sparda."
"What day is it today?"
"Friday."
"What's your address?"
"Ugh..."
"What year is it?"
"2005."
"What did you last eat?"
"Pizza."
"What's your mother's name?"
"…Eva."
Lady kept the questions basic after that response.
Gradually, Dante's breathing slowed, he stopped swaying, and the shaking lessened to dull tremor. Lady tucked away the end piece of the bandage and cricked her neck.
"I don't think you can shoot with that hand," she said. "Maybe hold a sword, but it'll hurt." She stood before he could look up, eager to wash her hands. She'd repaid her debt. He wasn't going to collapse or bleed out, and his devil powers would soon begin to heal the wound. She felt slightly guilty, as if she'd committed some sneaky underhanded crime.
It felt strange to be taller than him, now that she was standing and he was still on his knees. It reminded her eerily of a marriage proposal. Then, with a mixture of surprise and irritation, Lady watched as Dante tossed his head back like some restless stallion. A small smile twitched a corner of his lips as he said, "Ha. Give me five minutes; this little paper cut will be gone."
He stood – his grin vanished, and he stumbled forward heavily onto Lady. She wasn't expecting this, so the inevitable happened: Lady fell with Dante on top of her. For a second she just lay there, the shock of an incredibly handsome half demon lying on her snatching speech from her. She could feel his body heat seeping through her clothes. And there was that smell again, that musky tang that now seemed so familiar…Dante fetched himself up on his good arm over her, and Lady snapped out of it.
"Well, if this is what happens when demon healing doesn't work, you should use that dagger more often," he grinned.
"Get off me. Now."
"Sure thing, babe."
He didn't move.
"Fuck off!"
"Alright, I'm going."
Dante pushed himself to his feet using his uninjured arm in one swift movement, so to Lady it looked like someone had pulled him from behind. The loss of contact was shocking. She shook her head and stood, brushing herself off.
"Next time, don't get up so fast," she scowled. "You've lost a lot of blood, even for you. It takes a while for your strength to come back."
"Yeah, whatever. Hey…hm."
Lady saw something spark in his azure eyes. They were dancing with life again, when only minutes before they had been half-closed with fear and pain. She was amazed at how fast he was responding to basic first aid. Still, that spark meant something more. Something dangerous.
"What," she asked suspiciously.
The spark grew into a glint. Dante's mouth curled into a grim smile. Lady whipped her head around, but there were no demons or anything else that would induce a look like that. He exhaled slowly and flicked his eyes up at her.
"I'd stand back, if I were you."
