Author's Note:
This is sort of a transitional chapter, but it still has a little bit of everything. Some humor, a hint of romance, angst and even some action. Hope you enjoy it!
Chapter Eleven
Fly Away
"Are you ready?"
Dante opened his eyes halfway and frowned at Karasuma. She was wearing flimsy plastic gloves and vigorously shaking a bottle of dirty brown liquid with a serious expression. "No," he said with a sigh, "But let's do it anyway."
He followed her into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, snowy white hair glowing in the fluorescent light. Looking away with effort, he reminded himself that this was only temporary.
"Your shirt," Karasuma said hesitantly, making an awkward gesture toward his grey t-shirt.
A smile spread across his face, and he continued to meet her eyes as he pulled his shirt over his head, only loosing eye contact when the fabric interrupted their gaze. When he had tossed the shirt into the other room and looked back at her, she was shaking her head in exasperation.
Turning on the water in the bathtub, she tested its temperature and said, "Okay, we need to get your hair wet."
She handed him a towel to catch the drips from his damp hair when he had done as she asked and ordered him to sit down on the closed toilet seat. "Here we go," she announced airily and he closed his eyes.
Though Dante could pretend he wasn't vain, he would only be pretending. He had always liked his platinum hair—had liked the fact that it set him apart and drew attention—enjoyed the way women ran their hands through it wonderingly as if it actually was the precious metal it resembled. Even if it was only temporary, the idea of having drab brown hair did not appeal to him, but the part that made it even more annoying was that his brother had somehow managed to get off with only a ridiculous hat to hide his shock of white hair. God forbid that Vergil dye his hair.
Concentrating on the pleasant sensation of Karasuma's fingers against his scalp, Dante tried to ignore the chill liquid she was squeezing onto his head and massaging into his hair. "I hope this works," she murmured. "Your hair barely has any pigment to start with, so I'm not sure how well the color will stick."
"We don't want it to stick," Dante growled softly. "I thought you said I would be able to wash it out."
She laughed and he had to clench his hands in his jeans to repress the urge to retaliate. "It will wash out. But we want to make sure it looks fairly natural or there's no point in the first place." Dante bit down on a sarcastic reply, but let out a strangled cry when he felt her fingers rubbing over his forehead. He glared up at her and she pursed her lips in an expression that had a motherly "it's for your own good" written all over it. "We can't exactly leave your eyebrows white, can we?"
Finally the torture was over and Karasuma turned on the water in the shower to rinse out the excess dye. Dante watched the russet liquid swirl down the drain, thinking of the color of dried blood and trying not to sigh too much—Karasuma already seemed annoyed enough by his constant sighs.
"You would think that I was cutting off your arm with as much as you're whining," she muttered, scrubbing his scalp more vigorously than was probably necessary.
"Is it over yet?" he asked with an edge to his voice, scowling as he braced himself against the walls of the shower.
"Not quite." Karasuma turned off the water. "We still have to put the conditioner on it. I wouldn't want to leave your hair damaged."
Dante snorted, but endured the second application of cold liquid to his scalp. Halfway through the process, he became aware of another presence in the room and glanced toward the door through a spray of water to see Trish leaning against the doorjamb. Looking away, Dante hoped she would leave before it was all over; having his hair dyed was traumatic enough without dealing with the strange tension that had been building between them over the last day and a half.
They had not spoken to each other since the incident—not necessarily by intention, but because they had not had a moment to themselves with the flurry of preparations for leaving Japan. Dante suspected that she was avoiding him partially because she still didn't know how to explain herself, and he found a strange sort of apathy settling over him every time they passed by each other without speaking that he imagined was akin to depression. Vergil's taunts had not helped matters either, and if the little shit made one more aloof comment about how Dante seemed to be "having trouble pleasing his woman," Dante didn't know if he could keep himself from murdering him on the spot.
"Okay," Karasuma announced suddenly, turning off the water. "We're all done." She threw a dry towel over his head and he heard her pulling off her plastic gloves and tossing them in the trashcan. "Careful," she murmured to Trish as she walked out the door. "He's cranky."
Rubbing the towel over his hair with a sour smile, Dante straightened slowly, his eyes focused on the white tile floor. Trish took a step inside the room and he heard the door close behind her with a click. Curiosity getting the better of him, his eyes darted up to her sharply. She was wearing stylishly torn blue jeans, a rather tight yellow t-shirt with a monkey on it that said in bold black type, "A gibbons friend is a banana," and her blond hair was hidden inside a rainbow doo-rag; she was obviously already in costume for their trip to the airport.
Leaning back against the wall without removing the towel from his head, Dante continued to watch her silently. He had no desire to speak first; if she had something to say then he would listen, but he knew anything he said at the moment would only come across as petty.
Unsurprisingly, she delayed the inevitable as long as possible, crossing the small room silently and reaching up to pull the towel off his head with a wry twist to her lips. He allowed her to arrange his hair, glancing at the dark strands that fell across his vision with a scowl and leaning into her touch in spite of himself. Karasuma had recently been touching him a similar manner, yet the sensation had done nothing to distract him from his annoyance. Trish's touch, on the other hand, sent tiny shivers down his spine.
"It's not that bad," she said quietly, biting her lower lip and tilting her head as she inspected him.
Dante didn't reply, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror and cringing at the reflection he saw there, dark brown hair hanging limply about his face.
"Dante." The gravity in her voice made his muscles tense. "About what happened," she began slowly, avoiding his eyes. "I don't know what came over me. I just panicked for some reason. You didn't do anything wrong…I've just been on edge ever since I ended up in the demon world and I guess it was just too much too soon."
She was lying. He had no doubt that every word coming out of her mouth was a lie, and the fact that she still couldn't tell him the truth was enough to make the rage that had been steadily building inside of him since his brother walked through the gate burn a little brighter. His heart was thudding in his chest and he felt himself disconnect from his emotions, apathy tempering his anger just enough that he feared what he might do.
"Fine," he said coldly, giving her a firm push backwards so he could pass by her on his way to the door. He needed to get away from her before he said or did something he would regret; he knew that she didn't deserve it, but she was tempting his anger at the moment and his patience was wearing dangerously thin. "When you're actually ready to tell me the truth, then we'll talk, okay? Until then, I'm not interested." He was being an asshole and he knew it, but he couldn't help her if she wouldn't even talk to him.
"Dante!" she cried, but he didn't stop, opening the door and walking out into the room beyond. He stopped when he found himself face to face with Amon.
Amon glanced over his shoulder into the bathroom before looking back at Dante, his eyes wandering over his dark hair for a moment distractedly. Finally, he said, "We're ready to go. Everyone's waiting in the lobby."
Dante nodded and reached for his shirt where he had thrown it on the bed. Amon had told him the day before that he didn't intend to go with them to Europe; the announcement had shocked the hell out of Dante, but the determination in the man's eyes had convinced him that it was no joke. The fact that Robin had fully supported his decision had shocked him even more, especially when she revealed that her memories had finally returned to her.
Amon had only told him as much as he had to and Dante had no clue what could have been important enough that he would leave Robin's side to do it when the fate of the world was hanging in the balance. When he had asked, Amon had only said that if he failed to protect whatever it was he was running off to protect then it wouldn't matter if the whole world went to hell because he would have already failed. Dante had been unable to argue with him, but he hadn't exactly appreciated the man's lectures as to how he was to protect Robin in his absence. He didn't know when Amon had hired him as Robin's babysitter, but he knew that he sure as hell wasn't paying him enough.
Walking out the door ahead of them, Dante tried not to notice the glance Amon exchanged with Trish or the way her eyes glowed wetly in the light. His hands clenching into fists, he stalked down the hallway and hoped that they would find Lucifer soon. He was more than ready for a fight.
----------
"It looks like we've barely moved at all," Karasuma sighed, watching the plane icon on the map turn slightly in it's progress toward Europe. They had already made it through the first in-flight movie, and the screen was now showing their flight path as well as their time to their destination, altitude and various other statistics Karasuma would really rather not think about. She hated flying.
It didn't help that her nerves were still raw from all the tension leading up to their departure. Amon had parted ways with them in Tokyo, and she suspected that whatever he was heading off to take care of had something to do with the strange phone call she had received at the STN-J from his half-brother. Surprisingly, both Robin and Dante had supported his decision and she hadn't had the heart to try talking him out of leaving when even they had accepted it.
Concerned that Solomon would attempt to ambush them at the airport before they could leave, they had gone to great lengths to disguise themselves. Karasuma and Michael had arrived together, playing the part of a mother and son—their disguises had been minimal since they had the least striking characteristics. Trish had played the role of a rebellious American tourist and Robin had obscured her features with a head wrap and an Indian sari, wearing a thick layer of makeup to make her creamy skin a darker tan. Dante's brown hair and five o'clock shadow had transformed him quite completely, but it was Vergil's disguise that brought a smile to her lips every time she looked at him.
He had protested that he didn't need a disguise at all since no one even knew he was involved with them, but he had finally relented when they pointed out that his characteristics stood out in a crowd and he could easily be mistaken for Dante. Still, he had grumbled and refused to change his hair color, so they had to find another way to hide his unnaturally pale hair. In the end they had found a black cowboy hat and some wranglers and boots to complete the look; he looked surprisingly handsome in the western clothing, and the permanent frown on his lips only enhanced his image of a cowboy.
They had made it through airport security and customs without incident and Karasuma had been tempted to let down her guard. Still, she had been jumpy during the first few hours of the flight, constantly looking around for suspicious faces or anyone who was looking at any of them with a little too much interest. Slowly she had relaxed, unable to maintain her heightened state when the boredom of the long flight settled in, and she found herself drifting in and out of consciousness.
The plane was half empty since they had chosen a flight at such an unusual time, and the flight attendants had encouraged them to take advantage of all the extra seats. Vergil had taken three seats to himself next to a window, slouched back in his seat with his cowboy hat tipped down over his face and Michael had found a similarly secluded spot across the aisle from him. Trish and Karasuma had taken seats next to each other in the center section, an empty seat between Karasuma and Dante, and Robin sat alone near the window across the aisle from Dante. While Karasuma had initially been surprised that Trish had chosen to keep Karasuma between her and Dante, she realized that it shouldn't have been such a shock after the way they had been avoiding each other lately.
Everyone had been busy with their plans to leave the country and the long list of things to do and stress involved in attempting to cover their tracks at every turn had allowed for little time for interaction once they had started the process. Still, Dante and Trish had been decidedly cold to each other, keeping their distance and managing to never work together on any task. Karasuma knew that they had had an argument at one point since being reunited, but she couldn't believe that they still hadn't made up.
"Can I get you some more wine?" the flight attendant asked Trish softly, and Trish eagerly nodded. She had been drinking quite a bit of alcohol during the flight already, and Karasuma couldn't help thinking about the warnings she had heard about drinking at high altitudes. Still, Trish didn't seem to be terribly affected by the wine.
"Would you like anything, ma'am?" the attendant asked Karasuma.
"No, thanks."
Taking a gulp of wine, Trish rested her head back against the seat with a frown. "This has been too easy so far," she murmured, looking at Karasuma.
"I can't agree with you more. It makes me nervous."
Karasuma caught Trish's gaze shifting past her to the flight attendant that had just reached Dante's seat. "Can I get you another pillow, sir?" the woman asked with eagerness in her voice that made Karasuma shake her head. Despite his complaints, it didn't matter what color Dante's hair was; he still drew the attention of every female in close proximity.
Slumped in his seat, Dante opened his eyes a crack and smirked at her. "No, thanks." Karasuma was surprised that he didn't make some kind of obnoxious comment or hit on her, but Dante had not been his usual wisecracking self lately.
His lack of encouragement didn't seem to slow the woman down, though, as she placed a hand lightly on his shoulder and said darkly, "Let me know if you need anything."
Sensing Trish bristling beside her, Karasuma decided to give her a chance to actually do something about her emotions, hoping that the tension would abate a little bit. She was getting tired of feeling trapped between the two of them. "I'm going to get up and stretch my legs for a little while," Karasuma announced, smiling sweetly at Trish.
Trish blinked at her as if she hadn't been paying attention and had no idea what she had said, but she got out of her seat and let Karasuma by anyway. Glancing back, Karasuma saw Trish gazing somberly at Dante and sighed. They had more than enough obstacles in their way without soap opera dramas as well.
------------
The seat felt uncomfortable and Trish felt restless. With Karasuma gone, she had nothing to block her line of sight and her eyes kept drifting over to him the moment she let her mind wander. She didn't know what to do. He wanted answers from her and she couldn't blame him for wanting them. But she couldn't tell him here—hadn't had the nerve to tell him in the one chance she had gotten to talk to him alone. She needed to be close to him, needed to show him how much she needed him, but she was afraid of only making things worse.
She hesitated and sighed as she glared at Vergil—though at this point she was the one creating the problem, not him. Finally mustering her courage, she rose out of her seat and made the precarious journey across the adjoining seats until she could settle into the seat next to Dante. His arm was slung across the seat and she had to lift it in order to sit down, cautiously cradling it against her and waiting for him to pull out of her grasp.
He was looking down at her through slitted eyes, his expression impossible to read, but he did not otherwise react to her presence. She slid her fingers down over his palm and intertwined their fingers without breaking eye contact. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest as if this was the first time they had ever touched, though it was really fear driving her pulse. He had every right to push her away, but she was desperately hoping he wouldn't.
Shifting against the seat, he pulled his arm away from her and she felt as if she were crumbling inside. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she started to stand up. She should have known better than to push things with him right now.
But he caught her before she could move, sitting forward in his seat and lifting the armrest between them as he wrapped the arm he had pulled out of reach around her shoulders. She relaxed somewhat when she realized that he hadn't been pushing her away at all, melting into his warmth as he pulled her against him.
"Dante. I…" she whispered haltingly, one hand brushing lightly over his leg.
He trapped her hand beneath his own and interrupted her gently. "Don't. I don't want to argue. Whatever happened, we don't have to talk about it until you're ready."
Emotion choking her throat, she turned her hand over and squeezed his hand as she breathed, "I love you."
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head, and she didn't need him to say the words to know his feelings were the same.
-------
Sound was slowed down, gunshots echoing like the rumble of a timpani and she was running, her feet barely hitting the ground as she raced down the corridor through a tunnel of blurred light and sound. She couldn't run fast enough, the exit blaring sunlight through glass doors so far out of reach. A hand grabbed her arm firmly and pulled her behind a cement pillar.
Dante stood beside her, his breath loud in her ear as he sheltered her within his arms, the ground shaking beneath their feet. "We knew this would happen sooner or later," Trish cried from behind her as she pulled a pair of guns from the suitcase they had been dragging behind them and handed one of them to Dante. Robin could just make out the shapes of Michael, Karasuma and Vergil taking shelter within an alcove not far from them.
Screams reverberated through the space as people went running every direction, fleeing the Solomon agents wreaking havoc through the airport with otherworldly powers. Dante turned and began firing warning shots back at their pursuers to slow them down.
"We have to get outside," Robin yelled at him, watching men and women and children run by and unable to stand the fact that they were in danger because of her.
He grunted as a projectile hit his shoulder but nodded in acknowledgment as he ducked back behind the column, his features twisted in pain.
They were running again and she glanced back once to see Vergil covering their escape, his katana flashing through the fog created by one of the Solomon hunters as he disposed of the closest of their pursuers. Dante tugged at her arm and she stumbled to keep up with him as they burst through the doors and into the sunlight. Pulling out of his grip as soon as they were outside, she turned back toward the building and reached for her craft. Before she could focus, the glass doors exploded outward and shrapnel went flying through the air. It melted before it touched her and she leapt out of the way when Vergil tumbled through the opening where she had been standing a moment before, his clothing ripped and spotted with patches of brilliant red. Turning her attention back to the shadowy figures still approaching, she murmured an incantation and watched as a wall flame erupted between them and the hunters, feeling the fire burn through flesh and cement alike as if it were an extension of her.
Vergil gaped up at her in uncertainty, icy blue eyes narrowed. More gunshots rang out and she turned to see a blockade of Solomon agents dressed in black suits preventing their escape. Momentarily stunned, she stared at them for a moment too long and didn't have time to create a shield before bullets were ripping through the air toward her. She heard Dante scream her name, but he was too far away to protect her.
Robin awoke with a start, her heart racing in her chest. She was still on the plane and they were still safe. Gasping for breath, she tried to calm herself down, blinking tears out of her eyes. She hadn't slept much during the flight, but every time she did drift off, she experienced the same nightmare. Though she had initially written it off as her worries manifesting themselves, the dream was always the same, and each time it became clearer and more detailed. She was beginning to wonder if it was more than a dream.
"You okay, babe?" Dante asked quietly, his brows creased in concern.
Turning to him, Robin nodded. "I was dreaming."
"They're getting ready to land. You should buckle up."
Robin nodded again, reaching for her seatbelt and feeling her pulse pick up speed again. "Dante," she murmured, "I have a bad feeling. Like we're walking into a trap."
"Because of your dream?"
"I think it was more than a dream." She met his eyes and tried to communicate how serious she was.
He seemed to understand and believe her. "Is there anything I should know about it?"
She described the dream to him as the plane landed and he listened silently to her explanation. When she was finished and the plane was taxiing toward the gate, he said solemnly, "Stay close to me. Okay?"
They disembarked and made it through immigration without incident, but Robin still felt tense, her gaze darting around anxiously as they waited for their luggage. They had collected the last bag and were crossing a wide platform toward a row of escalators when she sensed it—whispers in her head, distant chanting murmured so softly that the sound of the crowd covered it easily.
She snatched at Dante's hand, but did not look up at him, concentrating on the voices she could hear faintly in her mind. "They're following us," she hissed.
Obviously overhearing her warning, Vergil leaned toward Dante and said, "We should split into two groups and give them multiple targets."
Dante met his gaze for a moment, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he nodded silently and Vergil tapped on Michael's and Karasuma's shoulders. "Come with me," he ordered, and they glanced at Dante who acknowledged the order. Mixing into the crowd, they took separate escalators down to the ground floor, Dante glancing back over his shoulder warily.
"They could be anywhere," he said softly. Pushing past the innocent bystanders milling around the bottom of the escalators, he asked, "Would Solomon really be willing to attack us in such a public place?"
Robin shook her head. "I don't know, but I can feel the power in the air. Can't you?"
The floor began to tremble beneath their feet, faintly at first as if it were merely distant thunder, but Robin knew that it was the first sign of danger. "Run," Dante ordered, gripping her hand tightly and nudging Trish ahead of them. The hairs on the back of Robin's neck stood on end and she felt the floor buckling behind them. Screams erupted, echoing shrilly through the lofty space as they darted through the panicking throng toward the exit.
Déjà vu washed over Robin as she ran and she tried to remember what had happened next in her dream. "There!" she cried, tugging Dante toward a cement pillar ahead of them. He followed her lead and they dove behind the pillar a moment before an explosion ignited the air and an intense wave of heat rolled by, the structure trembling ominously around them.
Dante cursed. "These bastards mean business."
"We knew this would happen sooner or later," Trish replied, handing him a gun and pocketing the rest of the ammo in the suitcase before she kicked it aside, hefting a gun of her own.
Robin clung to Dante as another explosion shook the ground, followed by a barrage of projectiles. She thought about how her dream had ended and trembled when he pulled away to return the fire. How could she change the ending? Peering past the people running by, she found Vergil and the others in their alcove and noticed a thick fog already gathering on the ground around their feet. They needed to get outside, but they needed to exit the building somewhere else.
"We need to keep moving," Dante panted, clutching at his shoulder to staunch the bleeding where the shrapnel had just hit him.
Trish gestured toward the doors ahead of them. "Let's go."
Robin could do nothing but follow them as they began running again, the fog thickening as they ran. She heard Vergil draw his sword behind them and saw Michael and Karasuma catch up, but she still didn't know what to do. She knew she shouldn't hesitate when they pushed through the doors, but she also knew she couldn't let the hunters catch up to them. Dante lead her toward the place where they had sheltered in her dream and put a hand on her head to make her duck under the gunfire from the agents waiting outside.
The doors exploded behind her and Dante pushed her ahead of him, shielding her with his body as shards of glass flew through the air like bullets. Pushing him aside desperately, she watched as Vergil landed on the sidewalk outside the door and rolled to his feet, blood dripping down one side of his face. Before he could move, the agents fired, and Dante tried to hold her back as she pushed past him toward where Vergil was wavering on his feet, blood blossoming from dozens of wounds all over his body. She could see the shapes of the hunters inside the building catching up and feel them raising power for one last assault.
"Robin!" Dante screamed. "What the fuck are you doing?"
She shielded herself with an aura of flame as she ran back toward the building, expanding her shield to surround Vergil as well as he leaned on his sword and struggled to regain his bearings. If he had been human he would have been a casualty already. Focusing on their pursuers inside, she created the wall of fire she remembered making in her dream, grasping Vergil's arm when she was finished to pull him with her as she heard the sound of more gunshots.
To her horror, she saw that her shield was failing to block all of the bullets and she flinched when several broke through and picked up speed again, barreling toward her. She froze as she realized there was nothing she could do to stop them, wishing that she had been a little more careful. A moment later, the sound of metal whizzing through the air made her open her eyes again. Vergil was standing between her and the shooters, spinning his sword in a tight circle and shredding the bullets before they could reach them. The barrage paused and he turned toward her, grasping her around the waist and literally lifting her off her feet as he raced across the pavement to where Dante and the others were waiting.
"This way!" Robin cried, when she heard a vehicle squealing to a stop in the circle drive on the other side of the wall. In one iteration of her dream, she remembered the Land Rover and recalled that it had represented safety. Pulling Vergil with her as she raced toward the vehicle she didn't have time to see if the others were following.
At that moment the passenger door of the Land Rover opened to reveal Sakaki of all people, confirming her instincts. "Hurry!" he screamed at them. "Get in!" Moments later, they were all piled into the vehicle, and the doors slammed shut as more gunshots echoed after them.
"Hold on!" Doujima ordered from the driver's seat as she slammed on the gas as soon as they were all inside, tires squealing as she pealed out onto the road.
Arranging themselves in the surprisingly spacious vehicle, Dante took a seat in the back next to Trish, telling everyone in the middle seat to keep their heads down. "They're following us," he growled. "Do you know where you're going?"
"Sure I do!" Doujima cried, taking a corner at a breakneck speed. "I'm going away from them."
The middle seat was crowded, Robin practically sitting on Vergil's lap with Karasuma and Michael squeezed next to them on the seat. "I might be able to stop them with my craft," Robin said, trying to disentangle herself from Vergil's cool grip on her waist. He released her abruptly when he noticed her struggling, but was forced to catch her again when they rounded another corner and she nearly went flying toward the windshield.
"Keep your head down, Robin," Dante ordered despite her protests. He handed his brother a gun and asked, "The windows back here don't open. Do you think you could stand to use one of these long enough to roll down your window and pick off a few of them?"
His lip curled in distaste, Vergil took the gun from him and turned toward the window, one of his arms still holding firmly onto Robin. Trish had already moved up to the window on the other side and together they managed to send several of the vehicles off the road behind them.
"We've got a problem," Doujima announced suddenly and Robin looked up to see three cars pull out onto the road ahead of them, blocking the way. Focusing her craft, Robin sent darts of flame toward the vehicles and squinted as they exploded in a blinding flash of light. The Land Rover veered off the road and nearly flipped as Doujima attempted to regain control, swerving over rough grassland.
Several heart stopping moments later, they were back on the road and gaining speed, their pursuers lost in the blaze behind them. Exhausted, Robin fell back against Vergil, her head resting against Karasuma's shoulder as she gave into the fatigue washing over her.
----------
Michael gazed blankly out the window at the passing countryside, unable to even form a complete thought in the wake of their chaotic escape from the airport. He felt like he had been completely useless in their flight, no more helpful to the others than the luggage they had been forced to drag along with them.
"What are you two doing here?" Karasuma asked when they had all caught their breath, voicing the one question all of them had been wondering.
"We knew Solomon was after you," Sakaki replied, turning in his seat. "So we came to help."
"You could have just warned us," Karasuma commented with concern in her eyes. "You didn't need to jump into the danger yourselves."
"Actually, we couldn't warn you. Solomon was monitoring your communications." Doujima replied. "They put a tap on Michael's computer before you left and chips in your cell phones."
Michael's eyes widened and his heart sunk. He had no idea his computer had been hacked. He should have known—should have at least checked to make sure before he used it too book their flights. It didn't matter how careful he had been on the Internet if his computer was already tapped. Scrubbing a hand through his short hair, Michael groaned softly in frustration.
"It's not your fault," Karasuma reassured him, patting his shoulder gently. "We should have all been more careful."
"Anyway," Doujima continued, "as soon as we found out what Solomon was planning we decided to show up here ahead of you and provide your escape vehicle."
"That was brave of you, but foolish," Karasuma said, shaking her head. "What if they had found out?"
"Well, they didn't," Sakaki protested. "Besides, I think I would have gone nuts at the SNT-J if I had to stay there one more day. It was dead boring."
Dante laughed softly. "Either way, I'm glad you were there. I don't know if we could have found a vehicle to commandeer in time to get away otherwise."
"So, where are we going now?" Doujima asked.
Reaching for his messenger bag, Michael pulled out the map they had marked up with their route and handed it to Sakaki. At least he could be useful for something. "Whew," Sakaki said as he looked at the map. "That's pretty remote. Looks like we've got a long way to go."
Glancing over at Robin as he sat back in the seat, Michael noted that she was practically unconscious, her slight form half draped over Vergil and her head tucked against Karasuma's shoulder. Vergil held her dispassionately, as if he were holding a sack of laundry and not a person, and Michael felt annoyance flare inside of him that he should be so close to Robin and not even care.
Dante also seemed worried about her because he leaned forward in his seat and looked down at her, brushing hair away from her face. She stirred slightly and looked up at him with sleepy green eyes. "You okay, kid?"
"Just tired," she murmured, her eyes drifting quickly shut again.
Dante nodded, his features darkening as he glared silently over at Vergil. His brother merely regarded him with a raised eyebrow and a bland expression. He opened his mouth, but Vergil stopped him before he could issue a threat.
"Don't waste your breath," he said softly, rolling his eyes.
Sakaki leaned toward Michael and gestured toward the two of them, "What's with the double vision?" he asked.
"Dante's brother, Vergil," Michael answered with a shrug.
Sakaki nodded with a grin. "Cool." Cocking his head at them, he added, "Dante kind of looks like Leon S. Kennedy with his hair like that."
Smiling faintly, Michael agreed, "You think so too? At least we're not in Racoon City or Spain, though, right? I'd hate to run into a bunch of zombies."
"I don't know. You can never tell where you're going to run into people infected by the zombie virus or parasites. If you hear a chainsaw, run,"
Michael laughed, feeling some of the tension bleeding out of him. "Yeah, and you'd better watch out if you hear any monks chanting."
"Or see any creepy midgets with a lisp."
Starting to get a little too into the concept, Michael leaned forward in his seat. "We'd better be sure to pick up an infrared sight for all the guns as soon as we get there. We can't afford to run into any regenerators without the right equipment."
Scowling over at them, Doujima snapped, "What are you two babbling about? I thought you promised to lay off the video game references for a while, Sakaki."
"Ah, writhe in my cage of torment, my friend," Sakaki quoted, winking at Michael as he turned in his seat. Then, to distract Doujima before she made another complaint, he added, "Hey, let's turn on some tunes."
Attempting to frown at him but failing miserably, she said, "Okay, but we're playing one of my CDs, not your video game crap."
"Fine."
Settling back into his seat and trying to get comfortable, Michael listened to the music and realized he already felt a lot better.
------------
Vergil dozed with his head against the icy window, the insubstantial warmth of the girl's body draped over him like a fragile blanket. They had been driving half the night, eager to put as many miles between them and the ambush as they could. Soft music covered the monotonous hum of the road beneath the tires, though Vergil couldn't make out the words of the haunting refrain as it floated through the air.
Karasuma had offered to take a shift behind the wheel when they stopped briefly for gas, and to Vergil's surprise the girl who had been wedged halfway between them had turned toward him in her sleep when Karasuma left and rested her head against his chest. Vergil hadn't moved despite the fleeting opportunity to stretch—not because he was concerned about waking her up, but because he was enjoying the uneasiness in his brother's eyes when he looked at the girl curled up against him.
Dante had actually gone so far as to take Karasuma's place beside him when they stopped, the young woman who had been driving taking his seat in the back next to Trish. The two women immediately launched into a conversation, chattering loudly as they caught each other up on their recent activities. Michael was dozing in the seat beside Dante and Karasuma was chatting with her copilot as she drove, everyone so wrapped up in their conversations that they didn't seem to notice the electric tension between Vergil and his brother.
"You seem to be almost enjoying this," Dante accused softly, regarding him from beneath a jagged wedge of brown hair.
Vergil had been having a hard time keeping his eyes off Dante's unnerving hair since the moment he first saw it; he had often considered what it would be like if he and Dante didn't resemble each other so strongly, if his antithesis—the other half of his soul—had not been his mirror image. He had considered it and wondered how he would feel if he could look at Dante and see a completely separate individual instead of a reflection of himself. Would it make it easier for him to accept that despite their looks they were nothing alike? Now that he had the opportunity to test it—at least in part—he found that it didn't create the reaction he had expected. It didn't make anything easier.
"Hardly," Vergil replied finally. "She's attached herself to me like an appendage and I fear I might lose a limb if I tried to disentangle myself from her."
Scowling, Dante said, " She's probably only clinging to you now because she's managed to mistake you for Amon in her sleep. Guess one cold-hearted bastard's as good as another."
Vergil raised a brow; so his assessment of her longing look at Amon in the hotel room was more accurate than he had thought. Taking note of the odd relationship, Vergil filed the information away for later use. Looking down at the peacefully sleeping girl pensively, he commented, "I imagine she overextended herself back at the airport, and her body has shut down in an attempt to replenish her strength. She was foolish to push herself so far beyond her limit."
Dante shook his head, dark strands shivering against his face. "She was protecting you at the time, as I recall."
"Am I supposed to be grateful? I hardly needed her protection."
"Yeah? Well, Robin thought you did, and she has a selfless streak a mile wide. Frankly, I would have let you bleed to death."
A bitter smile twisted Vergil's lips and he shifted his attention to the window and the town they were currently speeding through. "Somehow I doubt that."
"Do you?" Though still soft, Dante's voice was dark, shaded with hatred and Vergil closed his eyes as he drank it in. "Guess you're not as clever as I thought."
"No. I simply know you better than you know yourself."
"Want to test that theory?" Dante growled, leaning close enough that Vergil could feel his breath against his neck. Vergil found it difficult to repress the shiver that threatened to race down his spine.
"We're in a car full of people, Dante. I hardly think this is the place for threats." Glancing back at him without moving his head, he added, "Besides, you wouldn't want to injure your sweet Robin trying to get to me, now would you?"
Dante's anger seemed to be visibly rising off his skin. "You'd use her as a shield?"
Smiling smugly, Vergil replied, "I never said anything of the kind. You have a tendency to be clumsy. That's all."
Dante looked away with effort, his jaw clenching.
"You've become attached to her," Vergil commented, surprised to hear himself voice the observation. He realized too late that he was practically admitting his irrational jealousy that Dante was focusing his natural sibling protectiveness on such an unlikely candidate.
Glancing at him with one side of his mouth hitched upward in amusement, Dante replied quietly, "There's something about her that makes you want to protect her." Fondness softened the harsh lines of his features as he looked down at Robin, and Vergil felt his jealousy sharpen.
"Then I certainly hope you've managed to grow stronger as I advised you at Temen-ni-gru. Otherwise—"
"'I can't protect anyone, let alone myself,'" Dante finished for him impatiently. "I remember what you said." Vergil felt oddly gratified that Dante remembered their conversation from so long ago with such clarity; it reassured him that he still held some sway over his brother. "But as I recall, the last time we met you were the one having trouble taking care of yourself."
The shard of memory that had returned to him in a dream confirmed Dante's words, and Vergil couldn't think of a way to turn them to his advantage—the emotions were still too raw.
Robin stirred slightly in her sleep as if she was sensing the tension between them, and Dante watched her carefully. "I can take her if you're tired of holding her," he offered casually, though the unspoken threat was obvious behind his words.
"There's no reason to disturb her," Vergil said blandly. "I don't mind."
Dante looked at him with suspicion in his eyes, but the aim of the look was lost on Vergil as he found himself mesmerized by the way the streetlights made Dante's blue eyes glow with ethereal light. "That's weird. You usually mind everything."
The temptation to play with Dante was too great to ignore. Smiling faintly, Vergil replied, "Then perhaps there's some truth to what you said before and she's worked her magic on me as well."
A scowl immediately darkened Dante's features. "Bullshit."
Before Vergil could respond, Dante's leg began to vibrate. Vergil glanced down at it with a raised brow when a moment later a strange melody began blaring from his pants. Sighing, Dante shoved a hand into his pocket and retrieved an electronic device Vergil recognized as a phone. He was still a little startled by the way technology in the human world had changed since the last time he was in it. The phone Dante was flipping open and pressing to his ear with a curt greeting was smaller than a deck of cards.
Dante's expression soured even further as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. "Yeah, it's real great to hear your voice too," he said sarcastically. "No. I know. But she's fine. Yeah, some things blew up and Solomon tried to chase us all over the country, but we lost them. Yes, I'm sure." He glanced briefly at Robin exasperation on his features. "She's resting right now. You can talk to her later." Sighing shortly, he snapped, "I'm not being evasive. She's just asleep."
Vergil listened to the conversation in wonder; he had never heard his brother be so submissive to someone else before, and judging by what little he could pick up from Dante's comments, he was talking to Amon. How the human had managed to all but tame Dante was beyond Vergil, but he found that the very idea made him insatiably curious.
Finally, Dante handed the phone off to Michael, saying Amon had some questions for him.
"Have you sworn your loyalty to that human?" Vergil asked when Dante had returned to scowling silently at the road ahead.
Dante shook his head briefly. "I promised I'd take care of his girlfriend. That's all."
Considering this, Vergil glanced down at the girl in his lap and decided that Dante was far too generous for his own good. If he continued to add humans to the list of people he had sworn to protect, eventually he would be unable to protect any of them sufficiently. And he would be devastated. This was a self-destructive pattern for Dante; he would continue to fight against impossible odds, and most of the time he would be able to scrape by through pure tenacity, but eventually he would make a fatal mistake, and by that point he would be too late to save himself.
"What are you thinking?" Dante murmured, watching him with hatred sparking in his eyes. "You have another lecture prepared for me on the topic of learning to take care of number one before trying to protect anyone else?"
"It's disgraceful for a demon to serve a human," Vergil replied succinctly, deciding not to waste any more of his warnings on Dante when he refused to hear them.
"Disgraceful, huh?" Dante chuckled bitterly. "You should know about something like that better than anyone."
Closing his eyes, Vergil accepted the cutting remark silently and rested his head against the window again, trying to clear his mind. While talking in circles with Dante was an occasionally amusing pursuit, it was also wearying.
"What? Are you giving up so soon?" Dante goaded him when he failed to respond. "I thought verbal sparring was one of your favorite things."
"Enjoy your meaningless victory while you can, Dante," Vergil muttered without moving.
Dante was either too startled to respond or had actually scrapped together enough wisdom to realize Vergil was no longer in the mood for argument. Either way, Vergil enjoyed the silence.
Author's Note: I hope everyone found a little something to enjoy in this chapter. I know there was a serious absence of Amon, but it was pretty unavoidable. He'll be back before you know it though!
I especially liked writing the part at the beginning about Karasuma dying Dante's hair. My friends and I have taken to referring to Karasuma as "mom." I have a feeling I'll be writing a scene before too long in which she yells at Dante and Vergil and threatens to put them in time out or something if they don't start behaving. :)
I wanted to thank everyone who voted for Libera Me in the UFO awards. I won second in the WHR category and Member's Choice for that category as well. I really appreciate your support! Also, I wanted to mention that I'm posting a new story in the Devil May Cry category. I have gotten a number of requests for a separate Dante x Trish story and my frustration over the new DMC game coming out and the failings of the anime have finally inspired me to write something. You can check it out by following my profile link above and looking in the list of stories there. It's called "Stay."