It was early morning when Dante climbed down the stairs to his shop. He didn't sleep well, not to mention even long enough. He dried his hair, throwing the towel onto the red brocade sofa that stood on one end of the room, before he looked onto his desk. Last evening's pizza was still laying there. He took the box to bring it into the kitchen, then came back to grab his clothes. Black trousers, black shoes and a black shirt should do. His coat hung over the backrest of his chair, but he would not need it yet. He sighed deeply, when he took a seat, gazing onto the sheets of paper that covered his desk. It was truly time to get a computer, but he didn't really like these modern things. He grabbed the newspaper that laid there too, just to check recent events. Nothing that could be counted as some sort of demon attacks. Even worse, it was his 25th birthday, and there seemed to be nothing else to do but to sit around and wait for the day to pass by. His first birthday after he killed his brother with his own hands, about one year ago. Dante tried hard to strip off the returning emotions, but he didn't succeed. If only there had been another way...

Shaking his head the devil hunter stood up again. What about cleaning his mess then? Would keep him from thinking too much. Otherwise... He liked his place the way it was, and it wasn't too untidy after all, was it? Sighing again he put on his coat, grabbing the keys afterwards. A short walk then, it had always helped. Dante left his shop, slowly wandering through the streets, his light blue eyes sliding over the buildings and places that passed by, just to find himself arriving in his favorite cafe. There was nothing that spoke against a strawberry sundae anyway, and as he was here already he could also get one.

Sitting on a lonely table he spun the spoon around his fingers a few times, watching his ice thoughtfully. Why did he have to remember the last time he was around with his brother? When he finally gave in and checked out that ice-cream? To hell with all this! It was so annoying, he should really learn to concentrate on the future, not the bloody past! Vergil WAS dead, and NOTHING could ever change that anymore! Dante finished finished his ice quickly, leaving the cafe as fast as he could. He should not have come here at all.

His hands deep within his coat's pockets he made his way towards a park, taking a seat on one of the benches near the beautiful lake. The sun shined warmly and some roses grew in bushes around him. Dante's eyes were halfway closed when he looked upon the water's surface, the sky reflecting in it. Twenty-five years... and only seven where he had his brother by his side. Eighteen years lost, and as for now they're lost forever. They could have had such a great time, and if he had kept his cursed mouth shot back at the cafe, Vergil would probably be still alive.

The hunter clenched his teeth. Once again, angriness overcame him. This would lead to nothing but pain and agony! But there was something else that he had to do. He had not done it in all those years, unable to admit his fear about what would it be like. He went to the graveyard, visiting both, the grave of his mother, as well as that of Yulianne Roberts, as Vergil told him. "You both watch over him, I beg you..." he whispered softly, placing a couple of white roses, signs of innocence, onto each of their graves. It was hard, and it hurt badly, but he did not cry. No, devils never cried, or at least only rarely. It was a pity that he had no grave for his brother, but it would only be one more place to be sad about, so maybe that was all right. He didn't need a place to remember his loved ones anyway, but he felt glad about finally managing to visit places like that without the urge of crying.

Now he could finally go home and start trying the accounting. It had been some time since he last did it anyway, and running out of money because of a lack of planing had always been a plague. Silently he slipped into his shop again, as if he could disturb anyone. He got rid of his cloak, closing the door behind him quietly. Birthdays were useless anyway, he thought, throwing his coat over the backrest of his chair again before he sat down, finally placing Ebony and Ivory onto the shelf he had under his desk. Rebellion remained leaned against the wall not far from him. Dante hadn't locked the door yet, but he didn't expect a customer to rush in, so he tried his best to concentrate on his work again, and this time it seemed to work indeed.

'Twenty five years old' He thought with an almost invisible tremble. He was still young, but he felt as if he was a thousand years old. After he had survived the escape from Mallet Island, he had drifted around for a while. He felt as if he had nowhere to go, but as he grew stronger physically, his longing for home also did.

So, about a month ago, he had returned to his childhood home. Everything was still as he left it, the books were still scattered over his mother's bedroom, his blood dried on the floor and his bed still not made. The only difference was, that a layer of dust covered the entire house.

How much time had passed since the last time he was in this house? Five years? Seven?

The only things still clear and vivid in his mind were his brother, and his beloved mothers. The rest was as if a giant cloud had invaded his mind, destroying everything. He could still feel the pain he had suffered through, but he could not always remember why. Waking up in the middle of the night, screaming in fear and pain, not knowing why? It was pure torture.

Sometimes he could remember a man. Sometimes he could remember a room with concrete walls. The pain and the loneliness from those rooms, he feared with his entire self. He could awake from what he thought was a peaceful slumber, only to find that the screams that had awakened him were nothing but his own. HE longed for his brother more than ever, but he was afraid to go back.

Because he had failed.
He had failed in protecting Dante.
He had failed in protecting Yulia, as well as his mother.
He was nothing but a weak, pitiful half-breed who did not even have the courage to go back to his brother, asking for forgiveness and love.

Because that was what he wanted. He wanted his brother's love and care. He needed it.

He was a mental and emotional wreck, yes. He knew that. But he did not want to be like this. What he had been longing for since he was a small child, the power of his demon father Sparda, proved to be something he could not ever have. Now he did not even want it anymore. It did not matter to him any longer.

Nothing did.

He would just be so happy if he was allowed to die. But not even that he was strong enough to do. His flesh healed due to what he was, and he had no wish to cut off his own head.

No. That was something that was sacred to him. Something that was connected to Yulia and revenge. He understood that it was important to him, to remember, but he somehow could not. He wasn't even sure that he was ready to. Maybe the demon inside of him had blocked his mind for a reason? Maybe there was a way to grow somewhat whole again?

"Dante…" Something inside him said. Something inside of him was always screaming for his brother, whom he still loved over everything on this earth. He took a knife from the stack in the kitchen, and sliced his arm open, the blood immediately filling up and dropping onto the floor. The white cat, Yulia, looked at him with its big, yellow eyes; as if saying 'you are a stupid man, master'

He triggered, watching as the wound closed in five seconds. "Yes." He said, his voice sounding metallic and slightly raspy. "Let us pay a visit to my dear brother."

Dante had both, Trish and Lady calling to wish him a happy birthday, but fortunately he could prevent them just popping up today. He didn't want to see anyone, since this day was still somewhat holy to him, and he had some work to do after all. The hunter rested his chin in one hand, staring at the numbers that were on his papers. Last month had been slightly better than ever, his shop finally seemed to develop. He could as well get a new bike, the old one had been wrecked again during one of his jobs. Hell, that was starting to become usual!

Vergil stood outside the building where he knew his brother lived. He had already stood there for at least half an hour, Yulia sitting obedient by his feet. "If anything happens, I want you to leave. That is not a wish, but a command." He said through clenched teeth, bending down to pat her head. She stroke against him, purring happily. He took a deep breath before he strode up to the door, Yulia following him with her stern eyes fixed on his back. Vergil let the door fling open. Knocking was not in his fashion.

The younger jerked, almost jumping off his chair, when the door flew open. Who ever that was, didn't their mother teach them how to knock?! Immediately he grabbed Ebony and Ivory from under his desk, lifting them to aim onto the door, before he finally looked up. He gasped, his eyes widening and had to take a deep breath first, his guns remaining pointed at what was supposed to be his brother. At least he could tell from his face, that was so much alike his own, the always swept back silvery hair and his old blue coat that he knew so well. He could not say a single word - This was just impossible! Vergil was dead! Was this some kind of weird fun or what?!

Vergil stared at his brother, the same cold mask upon his face as always. Oh if there'd only been an easy way of doing this. He caught his cat when she leapt forwards, trying to attack a rat. He lift her up in his arms and managed to keep himself from smiling when she rubbed her head against his jaw. "This building is full of rats, you should get it sanitized." 'Oh great.' He thought to himself. 'He thinks you're dead, and you come back as a ghost, telling him to get rid of the rats!? Real smooth.' He petted Yulia's white fur, just to keep his mind straight. Dante couldn't stop staring at Vergil, when he slowly got up, moving towards the backdoor of his shop.

"You're just... another demon, are you...?" he asked coldly, although he could tell by the scent that he smelled that this HAD to be his brother. It just didn't seem likely at all. "Get... out or... I'll have to kill you...!" he choke out, tightening his grip around the guns he held. Hurt shot through Vergil's body and his arms tightened around his cat. "No, dear brother, I am not another illusion. As you would say; This is the real deal. Look at me, Dante. You know who I am. You can scent it. Feel it. Just as I can." He released his grip around Yulia when she begun to squirm and climbed her way up onto his shoulder. "Go, my darling. We have business to take care of." The younger shook his head, clenching his teeth again, his voice trembling audibly when he found the strength to answer.

"But you're dead! You are dead Vergil! Why do I always have to be reminded? This is far from being funny... It hurts like hell! W...why...?!" Fear sparkled in his light-blue eyes, as well as surprise. He wanted to shoot, to fight what he thought was nothing but another devil, but he couldn't. Where had all his strength gone, his recklessness? Vergil's eyes narrowed, that cold mask of his replacing by one of anger. "Since when did you become this foolish, Dante? Shoot me, then, if you don't hesitate. Or else? This 'demon' might kill you. Try it. Shoot me. Shoot me in the head, I have survived it once." Ugh, he did not want to remember that again. Pain shot through his body but he ignored it. Emotions were something he had cared about long ago. Now it did not matter to him, and he was stronger than to just break down and cry. No. He'd cried enough.

Dante stepped backwards, dropping his guns. Ebony and Ivory fell to the floor, producing a sound that was almost too loud fir the silence that had fallen upon them. He could not do this, not again. He would rather die. His legs felt like pudding, and he had to lean against the wall next to Rebellion. "I... I can't..." he whispered, his voice sounding weak and almost toneless. The elder almost smiled then. His brother looked confused, scared and astonished at the same time. He had not changed much at all. "You believe me now, Dante?" He said, his voice just a little too soft than what he had meant it to be. He crossed his arms over his chest with a cold smile upon his lifeless face. Dante shook his head. He didn't know for heaven's sake! "Even if... I did... how dare you to just show up again? I killed you... I killed you with my own hands... The entire island burst! There hadn't been any chance to escape other than the plane Trish and I caught! You... had been this thing... Nelo Angelo, I could feel it, smell it, I KNEW it! Even if you had survived back then... you could not have made it out of there!" He just didn't get it - How would that be possible? He had seen it with his own eyes!

Vergil's face drained off the little blood that there was, and he went freakishly pale. "I am not going to talk about what happened, Dante, because I do not, and do not want to, remember." He said curtly, his fingers almost digging into his arms as he got more and more annoyed. The younger glanced at his brother, noticing him turning pale. "Are you... all right...?" he asked slowly, cursing himself for giving in to what he still called an illusion. If he was true, he would have to be careful, and if not, this would be the best present that he had ever gotten on one of his birthdays, but he refused to believe in that, to avoid frustration when he found out about being tricked another time. He could not bear to lose his brother again. No, he would rather die than having this to happen. Vergil snorted. "I'm fine, Dante. Why are you asking me such foolish questions?" He said with a voice cold and bitter. "Are you not happy to see me, I can leave again. I am a big boy now; I have my own house, a cat, a life." Lie. "Why would I give that up? If you do not want me here, say so."

'Because you are my brother, Vergil! I missed you throughout all those years, I care for you, even LOVE you!' Dante was about to cry it all out, but he remained silent, only shivering slightly. Illusion or not, he did not want him to leave. "Stay... with me... p..please don't leave me again..." he whispered softly, more to himself than to his brother actually, but it could still be heard. He bit his lower lip, until small droplets of blood made their way down his chin, dripping onto the floor with noises, that were hardly audible. Vergil raised his eyebrows. This? He had not expected. "Then what do you want, Dante?" He asked, halfway aware of Yulia reentering the building with one of the fat rats in her mouth.

"Sweetheart, that's disgusting." He said, shaking his head. The cat looked at as if it pouted before jumping onto the red couch, savouring her prey happily, its blood staining her white fur. The younger closed his eyes, suddenly feeling terribly weak, just as if he was about to lose consciousness within the next few seconds. He breathed heavily, gliding down the wall he leaned on, until he sat on the cold floor, his hands resting next to him without the slightest movement. If it wasn't his brother that stared at him, he would have felt ashamed, but due to the whole situation he did not care at all. "I... just wish for the old times to be back... I want to make up the 18 years that we have lost..." he answered, his voice all toneless, hardly more than a weak sigh, all his coolness gone with the wind. Vergil took an instinctive step forwards when his brother sank down onto the floor. "Tell me what to do, then. I have missed you since you were torn away from me at the orphanage. But remember this, Dante; We can never go back to that time." He said, kneeling next to his brother, his cold face a little more soft and gentle.

"Tell me what to do." He repeated. Dante looked up to his brother, his icy blue eyes filled with pain. "Never... leave me again, listen, never ever go away again..." he said with trembling voice, his teeth remaining clenched. It was still hard to believe that his brother should be alive, that he actually knelt before him, but what else was left to do? Slowly he reached out a hand, in order to touch his twin's cheek. He had to make sure that this was for real... Vergil swallowed before he leant into the touch, his eyes closing, savouring the tender caress of his new found brother. He opened his eyes when something stroke against his leg, and rose, taking Yulia into his arms, his cold mask put on once again. "This place is a mess. We have to clean it up, and I am willing to sleep on your couch." He said, turning away from his brother to prevent the other male from seeing his gentle smile. The younger let his fingers run down his twin's cheek softly, feeling the well known outlines, until he pulled his hand back.

Something in Vergil's word made him jump up again afterwards, just to glare at his brother. "If you only came up just to tell me that, you might as well go home again!" he said, anger flashing up in his eyes. His brother really knew how to drive him up the wall! Otherwise, he could not take it for serious rage, as the other was right after all. Vergil turned to scowl at his brother, Yulia once again clawing her way onto his shoulder. "Decide what you want, Dante. Because I am NOT going to stand you playing with me!" He hissed. "I gave you an option; Let me clean up and I can sleep on the couch, or do you want me to leave you again?" His face was rough in anger and bitterness, such as his voice. Had he come here, just to be toyed with? The mere thought hurt too much, and he pushed it far back in his mind. Dante crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes narrowing slowly.

What the hell was he thinking of him?! "Hey... wait a sec, whatcha want? I never said that I was about to play with you - hearing this of your mouth hurts, you should know. I only claimed that my place was all right, but if you feel better, please, make yourself at home and do as you wish, but I'm NOT helping you, I swear!" he took a deep breath, then broke up, his face turning from anger to an expression that could hardly be described. He looked, as if he was near to both, crying as well as laughing, and after a few fearful seconds decided on the second choice. Hell, they just met each other again, and the first thing they came to was disputing again! Vergil sighed deeply, reaching up to pet his cat's head. "Dante, stop this. I am not here to fight. I can just as well clean up this mess on my own." He said curtly while taking a few steps towards his brother, Yulia balancing on his shoulder, licking at his face with a glare at her master's twin.

The younger grinned, as he threw himself onto his desk, his legs dangling in the air. "You were to one to pick a quarrel, but yeah... let's just... stop that..." he looked at his brother again, then at the white cat on his shoulders. "You must have been lonely, huh?" as asked quietly after a short while, pointing at Yulia. Vergil shook his head, grinning. "She was a prize from an old friend of mine." He said bitterly, almost wincing when he saw the mental image of a male's head upon his mother's grave. He took a deep breath, his thoughts settling again. "But I have missed you, Dante, and even with her, I have been lonely enough." Dante blinked a few times. "Aaah to hell with all this!" He jumped off his desk, darting up to his brother, almost squeaking as he threw his arms around him without any warnings. "I missed you too... And I swear, I'll kill you again if you EVER disappear another time without telling me where to!"

Yulia hissed and jumped down from her master's shoulder when he moved to catch his brother into his arms. That was the only option she had, if she did not want to be knocked down onto the floor. Vergil held his brother tight, burying his face in the man's neck. His scent was strong and as lovely as ever. "Don't let me leave again." He whispered, his fingers clamping in his brother's red leather coat. "Never!" the younger promised, as he closed his eyes, savouring Vergil's warm body next to his own, finally sighing in relief. He had waited for this day to come for so long, far from all hope for it ever to happen, and now? It was his twin whom he held in his arms. "Almost forgot..." he lifted his head again, locking his eyes with those of his brother. "Happy birthday, Vergil..." he whispered softly, a warm smile spreading on his lips. The elder raised an eyebrow before smiling. "Happy birthday, Dante."