I didn't let go of Dante until he tried to pull away first. Even then, I let my hands cling to his arms as he stood less than a few inches away from me.

"You can't keep running away." He told me, gently prying my fingers from his arms. The loss of heat that he had been giving off was felt dramatically and I shivered despite how it wasn't really that cold outside to begin with. I smartly chose not to say anything as he kneeled down to pick up his guns. He stood up and stared at the top of my head, considering I was staring at my own shoes, before shoving the guns back into the holsters on my hips. My knees almost buckled as he did so and I snapped my head up to stare at him. For a moment, we were back to our own moment, the world around us as nothing. His hands let go of the guns after a few moments, and almost just as abruptly, a wall flared up between us.

Dante took half a step back and I watched as his eyes visibly appeared colder. The muscles along his shoulders and neck tensed up, and his hands unconsciously curled into fists. I could've sworn, in that raw moment, that he was going to hit me. I closed my eyes and shook the thought out of my head. It didn't take much longer before I felt a sting shoot up my leg. I involuntarily jumped back, the reaction was to have my leg clenched even harder in the process.

"Let go!" I yelped, hopping on one foot as I tried to gain my balance. Dante ignored me and I fell to the ground. It was a smooth movement and I didn't hit the ground hard enough to hurt. I watched as he inspected the wound, rubbing something off that had me wincing. He took a piece of fabric out of his pocket and started to wrap it around the injury. If anything, the small pressure of the bandage had it stinging even more. He stood up, dusting off the front of his pants without looking at me.

"Can you walk?" He asked and I shrugged my shoulders slowly. He was like an animal waiting to pounce, and I really did not want to become his prey. I felt my heart thud painfully against my chest once it recognised the tone he was using; resignation; and wished I could go back over the line I'd seemed to have crossed. He held a hand out to me and I stared at it for a moment before taking it, letting him pull me to my feet. Experimentally, I tried to take a step and bit back a noise of complaint as I pulled it back. The slightest pressure had the pain bursting up from my calf. I wondered how I'd managed to even stand on it during the attack.

"It hurts." I told Dante, gingerly holding my leg up from the ground. The next thing I could comprehend was a feeling of weightlessness before I was secured in Dante's arms. He didn't say anything as he began to walk, his steps as fluid as a lullaby. I felt helpless, thinking back to the past day; the past few hours. I wanted to go back to where Dante was holding me so tight I'd forgotten the world around me or at least as far back so that I could erase that taboo line I'd crossed. Was it really all about me taking his guns?

"I'm sorry." I blurted out, fiddling with the collar of his jacket with the hand connected to the arm I'd swung around his neck. He stopped, looking down at me, his eyes clashing so harshly with mine that I had to look away.

"Don't lie." He was mad at me for everything I'd done while in his care, and I found myself clenching my eyes tightly as I realized how careless I had been with everything. Running away the first time was idiotic, doing it over again was stepping onto the bring of insanity. Changing the subject, Dante's features almost seemed to darken more. "I understand you love him, Bell, but is he really worth all this trouble?"

Ignoring him, I said, "Did you know my real name isn't Bell?" Why would he know? I knew from his expression next he didn't and I continued, "It's Lace." The new information registered quickly and he started to look more curious than mad.

"Why do you call yourself Bell?"

"Brendan called me that; it kinda stuck." Just like that, his face was back to being curved into a scowl and I had to resist the urge to groan. Nothing I said was coming off right, or anything he wanted to hear at all.

"What do you want me to call you?" His voice then made me want to slap him. It was almost taunting. I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer him, but I did anyway.

"Whatever you want." He picked up his pace again and didn't say anything. I hoped he wouldn't call me anything. I was half-hoping and half-assuming that he was going to drop me off at a hospital somewhere and leave. Maybe he'd tell me I was too cold-hearted and selfish, throw a bit of salt in a wound.

"We're here." I looked up to meet the glowing sign of Devil May Cry and felt curiosity creep through my thoughts.

"You brought me here?"

"Where else would I have taken you?" I felt stupid at that moment, for as soon as he'd said it I knew that if he had taken me to a hospital, they would've wondered about my injuries. What kind of story would I have been able to make up? Oh, a dog bit me. Right. Dante strode through the doors harshly and placed me onto the couch once we got inside. I was surprised he hadn't thrown me onto it. He was still exuding anger as he leaned over. My breath got stuck in my throat, until I found that he was only taking the guns away from me. He placed them in the cabinet, still not saying a word and stood in front of me.

"It should heal in a few hours." He said and I gave him a look, wondering how a wound like that could heal so fast.

"There's no poison?" I was so sure the dogs saliva must've had something in it, considering the state it had been in.

"That antidote you had before was still running through your bloodstream a bit. It's healing it now."

"How do you know?" More importantly, was it really that much of a good thing that I had demon poison still in my blood?

"It's coming out of that wound." He nodded his head in the direction of my leg. I glanced down at it myself, itching to take the bandage off even though the sting had turned into a dull throb by now. I didn't say anything else and Dante chose to walk away. I stared at the ceiling in the silence and wondered how I had convinced myself to leave this place so many times. I could feel how safe I felt now, how relaxed I was, even in Dante's angered presence. I was cared for here.

I never asked for it. I never wanted to be brought into someone's home and become close to them. I didn't want to be tied down to one place. There was only one person I'd ever been tied down to and he was the one I kept thinking about. The one that plagued my thoughts. Just like that, the idea of obsession popped into my mind. Then it lead to the idea of addiction. I let my arm fall across my eyes and let out a large sigh. I missed him, he wasn't any drug to me.

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I couldn't leave him because I needed him like an alcoholic or a heroin addict would their own vice. Deep down, I knew I loved him, but I knew it hadn't been as deep as I thought it had run. The only boy I'd ever truly loved had been torn away from me so fast, when he had been all I'd known for months. It was only natural that I wanted, needed, to get him back. Once again, deep in the recesses of my mind, I could hear own voice tell me to stop kidding myself.

If Brendan ever did come back, would I really go with him? I had found a home here, where people really cared, but did Dante really want me here? I was sure Lady didn't care either way; she hadn't gone out looking for me for hours. I almost seemed to sink into myself as confusion rocked me as far deep as it could get. I couldn't understand what I wanted. I did know what I wanted to do at the moment and it involved a lot of pouring my heart out in apology towards a certain person I never wanted to hurt.

Pushing the pain away, I stood up on both legs and limped into the kitchen Dante had disappeared into. As soon as I entered the kitchen, I stared at the red-clad back of a certain hunter. I could see his shoulders were strongly set and even though I barely knew him, it spelled trouble to me.

"Dante…" I started and he cut me off.

"Go lay down." His voice was low, with no expression I could pick out. Refusing to back down, knowing everything rested on this one thing, I pushed forward.

"I need to say something and you have to listen to me."

"I don't need to do anything you say." He said, and still I could pick out no tone. "I'm not your dog."

"Of course not!" I let my voice level rise. "You're my friend, Dante. And I need to let you know how sorry I am for being the hassle I am."

"Friend?" His voice was almost coated in venom this time. "This is how you treat friends?"

"I didn't mean it."

"Don't lie. I'm sick of it." I closed my eyes tightly. I couldn't get anything out right, and by the looks of how it was progressing, he could hear nothing right.

"If you'll give me a chance…" He exploded.

"I've given you more chances than I've given anybody." This was pure uncontrollable rage. The calm laid back demeanour I knew the real Dante had was lost as his blood hit the boiling point. "All you do is use me."

"Dante…" He was in front of me so fast I flinched, his eyes clashing painfully with mine. I stared into them with shock for a few moments before I blinked and heard a rushing in my ears.

"Get out or I'll do something you'll regret." I didn't need to be told twice. As I ran out of the room, my injury causing me to cry out with almost every step, I replayed the image of him in my head. In that moment, a moment so unlike the one we'd shared previously, he looked more of a demon than anything else. I crawled under the covers in my room, my body still shaking in fear. I hadn't bothered to turn the light on, and it didn't take much to tell I wasn't going to be sleeping that night.

The warmth from the blanket thrown overtop of me registered subtly through my mind as I started to steadily feel more drowsy. I could still see the anger in Dante's eyes and even though I knew I'd done wrong, I couldn't understand what he had been so mad about at that moment. I'd stolen his guns, which was a wrong thing to do, but could it really spark so much rage?

The door creaked open and I stiffened under the blanket, my eyes flying open. The steps were light, and I couldn't tell if they were trying to keep quiet or if it was just the way they walked.

"C'mon, get up." Lady said tiredly once she came to a stop by the bed, her voice distinctive in the silence. I threw the covers off myself and stared up at her. She had her arms crossed across her chest and was glaring at me heavily. "You stole them?"

"I didn't know what else to take…" I started, but she just shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"You should learn to stay out of trouble. You aren't as durable as you seem to think."

"I know I'm not invincible." I ground out, tired of the talk I'd gotten from so many lecturers during the course of high school. Teenagers always think they're invincible, that they can do anything and still survive.

"You don't show it." She told me and sat down on the bed heavily. I was tired of fighting with everyone and slumped against my pillows propped against the headboard. "He's not that angry at you."

"I doubt that." I told her, steadily staring at the back of her head.

"I'm always the mediator between you two." Lady huffed, turning to angle her body so she could face me. "You two have no effective communication."

"He doesn't like to tell me much." I responded in kind, knowing she must hate to be so nice to me all the time. For a few moments, Lady didn't speak. In those few seconds, I realized how much Lady was trying to help so I didn't end up hating, or being afraid of, Dante. The only thing was, I couldn't tell if she was helping him or helping me.

"He tells you enough." She said slowly, "It's a miracle he brought you here in the first place. He's left behind better." It was the meanness in her coming out, and I could tell, at some hopeful level in my mind, that she didn't really mean it.

"How did you and him meet?" I said, desperately trying to change the subject. I didn't want to talk about Dante and his mood swing. I didn't want to understand why he brought me here when it would've been easier to just let me die.

"We were going in the same direction." She said, her eyes so carefully clouded I wasn't sure if she was aware she was doing it. "He helped me kill my father." I couldn't have tensed up anymore after that sentence. I couldn't move for a moment. It brought up memories of my own father and I could only wonder what would push someone to actually kill another, especially someone like a father.

"Why?" It was the only word that made sense at the moment, but I knew it was the wrong thing to say when I caught a glance of Lady's expression.

"He killed my mother and was trying to become a powerful demon." She explained carefully, her eyes blank of any tears or remorse. I didn't like this subject, but I wasn't sure if it was the right thing to change it to anything else. "He deserved everything he got."

"Of course." I swallowed the dry lump in my throat.

\ "There's a reasonable reason to do everything." She went on, and it was starting to sound more like a lecture than just a conversation. "Don't count things out just because they sound abnormal." Murder was pretty out there, for any reason, but I could only nod. I didn't want to become the outsider in the house, even if my only friend would be Lady in order to prevent doing so.

"I know." I said. As soon as the words rolled off my lips, I realized how true the sentence was. Everything had a reason, whether that be good or bad, or something you wanted to hear or didn't. It didn't matter if it was wrong or right, or if it wouldn't hurt someone or would. I didn't realize Lady was almost out the door, since I was so lost in my own thoughts, until she spoke.

"Try to get some sleep."

"I will." I said, the image of Dante's anger flashing in my eyes as I said so. As soon as she'd left I huddled back into the blankets, enjoying the warmth they provided. For awhile, I stared at the ceiling, trying to come up with the true reason for everything I could ever remember doing. I didn't think about Brendan, or what would happen tomorrow. I refused to acknowledge what would happen if Dante threw me out or if Brendan showed up. I reminisced about my past, shedding a few tears at the appropriate memories. It didn't even register that I'd fallen asleep, because I was thinking about it in my dreams too.

-----------

It had been three days since I'd seen Dante; four since he'd talked to me. I'd thought he would've forgiven me by now. I'd tried to apologize, but he wouldn't acknowledge it; let alone accept it. Lady threw a 'don't worry' and a 'he'll come around' ever so often at me, but I stopped listening after awhile.

I noticed there was a new padlock on the door to his weapons cabinet, and every time I saw it, I felt an undeniable creeping of shame and embarrassment haunt through my system. Lady and I had stood side by side, staring at it for a few moments the morning after we'd talked. We didn't say anything, we didn't really need to, and she shook her head before grabbing her huge weapon and leaving. I stood to stare for a few moments longer before heading into the kitchen to make lunch for myself.

I couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated back with Dante, what else did he expect me to do? Almost to answer that question, I'd cleaned the whole house, excepting Dante and Lady's room. It couldn't have been cleaner. I'd wanted praise, been looking for it, but only received a nod from Lady and not even a thank you note from Dante. Personally, I thought he was acting childish. I told Lady this, but she just said she was tired of muddling in our affairs; that we weren't children and should handle it like adults. I shook my head and left the room. I wasn't the one who needed to act their age.

When I saw him again after another day, I thought for sure we would really make up this time. I'd missed talking to him and wanted to let him know as much. However, I got a brush off, as usual, as he just headed upstairs when he saw me waiting by his desk. I gave up. Quickly hustling on my shoes, I started the long walk to work. I had to walk past the new club I'd seen before, the bouncer eyeing me as I went by.

What I didn't expect to see was the sign on the door to my work. In bold, bright red letters were written: "Failed Health Code Inspection" then right underneath it "Closed until further notice." I could've burst out laughing right then if not for the fact I now had no income. I couldn't help but stare at the door for a moment, the sign seeming somewhat surreal, until Lara came out of the doors the sign was on.

"It sucks, hey?" She said, and I couldn't help but nod. "I mean, I didn't like the place, but having it be closed down is a big stretch. It's reputation is pretty much ruined."

"Where are we suppose to work?"

"She doesn't care." Lara said, scowling in the direction of the back door. I could've guessed that. I tried to peer around Lara to look, but the place was empty. Not surprisingly, I didn't feel sad that I didn't have to work here anymore. "She'll call." I glanced at Lara again to see her staring at me curiously. "When it re-opens and all."

"It doesn't matter." I said, and it really didn't. Lara gave me a confused look but nodded anyway and I couldn't help but shrug my shoulders. "Well, I'll have to go now then." Lara looked sad and reached forward to pull me into a warm hug. I automatically brought my arms up to hug her back and she didn't let go for a few moments. It reminded me of the hug Dante and I shared, except this one was less warm and comforting. It felt more conflicted between a final goodbye and a brief 'see you'.

"I'll take care of myself." I said, before she could say anything when she pulled away. "You better take care of yourself too."

"Of course." Lara smiled gently, almost coyly. "I don't have much to worry about."

"Goodbye Lara."

"See ya Bell." I walked off, finding myself filled almost with a certain joy. I wanted to skip down the streets at the prospect of not working, but now I felt even more like a leech than I had before with Dante. As I walked by the club again, I didn't look at it and kept going, but a hand on my shoulder prevented me from moving anymore steps. I assumed it was the bouncer and turned around to run my mouth off when I froze.

"Bell." His voice, oh god, his voice, sounded so relieved. I stared up at him and couldn't help but feel my mouth go dry. He was here, in all his glory, no evidence of any rash over his body.

"Brendan." I said, my voice sounded small and inferior.

"Oh, Bell." And then he leant down to place his lips on mine, a comfort I'd long forgotten. I kissed him back with just as much force, pressing against him just to really know he was there. Brendan, my Brendan, how could I have ever thought of abandoning him?