"Hey, Verg."

Vergil mentally sighed at those two, simple words, dropped so casually from his little brother as to be deceptive. Nothing that ever started that way ever, ever ended well. Ever. And he didn't bother to glance to the side, where he felt and heard more than saw Dante roll over onto his side, along with what was, at first, a gentle, cautious jabbing at his cheek, before Dante's touch grew more brazen when Vergil didn't respond immediately.

That was the first disaster of the night, marked on Vergil's mental scoreboard, when he bit down, hard, on Dante's finger, drawing blood. And Dante wibbled about it, and gave Vergil false hope in the sense that, in the idiot's flailing show of pain and babydom, he would have forgotten whatever asinine thing he'd been about to spew forth like so much verbal vomit. That was Dante, when Vergil truly thought about it: Dante was not manorexic. No. He was verbally-bulemic, and Vergil had to deal with the clean up, which was disgusting any way he looked at it; metaphorically or literally.

But there he lay, the disgusting, coppery taste of Dante's blood in his mouth, because he refused to give into the urge to go and scrub and scrub and gargle it out, and give Dante that ammunition for some lame, flaccid comeback, while Dante silently wibbled beside him, nursing his 'abused' finger. Well, if Dante hadn't shoved that finger repeatedly into Vergil's face, like a three year old begging for attention, he wouldn't have gotten bitten in the first place.

But Dante was retarded.

And Vergil refused to swallow the blood, as well, and it stayed there, caught under his tongue so he wouldn't make the mistake of doing so accidently, strangely sour and metallic. It was a taste...Well, he wouldn't say he knew it well, as one's own blood never tasted quite the same as someone else's, but it was a taste he knew, at any rate. But it was Dante's blood, which made it utterly filthy, and while he wouldn't spit it out because of pride, he wouldn't swallow because of health reasons (as though they could honestly get sick, anyway, but that wasn't the point).

And all was silent for several moments, and Vergil had actually closed his eyes, very much intending on going to sleep, when there was the tell-tale creak of the mattress and shuffle of bed clothes as Dante rolled over once more, scooting far too close for comfort, in Vergil's opinion. They were almost touching, and Vergil's brow drew down into a silent frown, though he didn't open his eyes. He was ready, for whatever the fool had to offer. He was.

Except for what Dante did. There he'd been, reflexes at the ready for any gropey monkey hands, when Dante leaned in, closely, and blew in Vergil's ear none too gently. The jerk forced Vergil to reflexively swallow, and to his horror, down went the blood. Down went the blood he'd so carefully held in his mouth to keep from doing so, and the fool had managed to get him to do it anyway. And it was disgusting. It was filthy. It was disturbing. And had he less decorum and dignity than what he did, he'd have gone running for the bathroom jamming a finger down his throat.

But Vergil was a man, dammit, and he'd take it like a man, as well.

Which was why, with no prelude, he reached over and slapped Dante, hard, across the forehead. "Idiot." Another slap was given, as Dante flailed to keep Vergil away, and failing miserably. "No touch. Bad Dante." One last slap, and hard tug and tweak on the idiot's oversized nose (ironically the same as Vergil's own, but he didn't think about that), and Vergil was willing to let it go, rolling over to put his back to Dante.

And once again, all was silent; it stretched longer than the first time, while Vergil lay there, scraping at his tongue with his teeth to rid his mouth of the Dante-blood taste, and all stayed still. There wasn't even the slightest sound of sniffle-wibbles coming from Dante's side of the bed, which was about as big of a miracle as Vergil could have hoped for.

Until.

"Hey, Verg."

And that did it. It absolutely did it, and Vergil moved quickly, rolling to his other side and right on top of the squirmy, flailing, shaggy mess he was forced to call brother, one hand slapping over the fool's mouth as he did so. Because he knew, yes he did, that Dante would start screaming rape the minute he realized what Vergil was doing.

As if. Vergil certainly had better methods of getting what he wanted if ithat/i had been what he'd been looking for from his little brother. Dante was a sad, deluded child, and if Vergil didn't know any better, with Dante bringing it up all the time, one would think Dante wanted Vergil to have his way with him. Food for thought, at any rate.

"Dante." It was said as he met Dante's wide-eyed gaze, over where his hand had clasped over the idiot's oversized nose and mouth, his own narrowing sharply in irritation. "I suggest, little brother, that whatever it happens to be wait until morning. Or I am going to split you open like a medical cadaver and hang you from the ceiling fan by your intestines." The other hand patted patronizingly at Dante's cheek, and he felt Dante's teeth scrape in a futile effort to bite him against his palm. "Are we clear, Dante."

It wasn't a question. It was a demand, and Dante would be no smarter than to realize that.

But Dante was a fool, and it showed as his own eyes narrowed, before both gropey, monkey-like hands made their way up and latched right on to Vergil's hair, tugging hard. It hurt, yes it did, and Vergil didn't deny that; he didn't give in to it, either, as the hand on Dante's face clamped down tighter, the other twining in the front of Dante's own hair, to lift him up by it. He should have known, honestly, that that would only make his retarded little brother cling like the monkey he was, but that was fine, too, as he leaned back as far as he could in Dante's grip and then headbutted Dante, right in his big ass head. Hard.

Enough to make them both see stars, if he wanted to be absolutely honest about the situation, and it dazed him enough that he slid right off of Dante as Dante let him go, holding his forehead and starting that whining he did. Which was just lovely, really. Because that meant Dante would act as though the world had done him wrong, when in fact it was Dante's fault to begin with.

And thus it began. "What the fuck did you do that for?" Vergil, through the bleary film over his vision, didn't need to be able to see clearly to know exactly what sort of look Dante wore. It was the one where he looked like an insolent raggamuffin of a child, pouting, scowling, and wibbling, all at the same time, just like the big three year old he acted like.

"Just shut up." It was said as Vergil slapped blindly in Dante's direction, crawling back to his own spot on the bed. "Just...Shut. Up. Not another fucking word. Or I swear on everything sacred and pure in this world, I will gag you and throw you in the closet." And he would, so help him God. He would, and hog tie him for good measure, to keep him from making noise. And then he would sleep, having the iwhole bed/i to himself for once, with no shaggy, mangy little brother to spoil it.

"Fuck you sideways." It was said with a huff, as Dante rolled over, still rubbing at his head, putting his front to the wall and his back to Vergil, which suited Vergil just fine, the little idiot. If he thought he was doing Vergil a disservice that way, he was far from mistaken, because the last thing Vergil wanted to be greeted by when he awoke was Dante's idiot face, while he drooled everywhere.

Vergil had had to come to to that sight enough times to know that was exactly how it would be, too.

"Shut it." It was said as Vergil huffed himself, trying to get situated with his own back to Dante's, inched close to the edge of the bed to keep from touching the idiot. In truth, it wasn't a small bed, but they weren't small themselves, so it was truly harder than it seemed, even if Dante was still a manorexic. "I mean it. One more goddamned word, Dante. One more, and-"

"You know, maybe if you'd shut your fat trap, that'd be the end of it, you fucking ignoramus." It was said as Dante fluffed his pillow angrily, 'accidently' kicking Vergil in the back of a thigh as he did so. It earned a snarl that Dante ignored, as he burrowed his way into the bed covers, making sure to pull them completely over his head in an immature show of not listening to Vergil.

That was fine. As long as Dante stayed silent, Vergil could deal with the immaturity. It meant he didn't have to listen to Dante whine, after all. After fluffing at his own pillow, fussing with it to an obsessed degree, he finally got it the way he wanted it, and settled down himself, to sleep, because it was an escape from the idiot he was forced to call brother.

It was a few hours later when something pinged on the fringes of his senses, and Vergil cracked an eye, sure enough finding Dante sprawled all over the bed, and halfway on top of Vergil besides. That, in itself, was nothing new. Dante didn't understand the concept of personal space, especially while sleeping. But that wasn't what had roused Vergil from sleep.

There was a scratching, coming from under the bed, and at first, Vergil stayed still, eyes narrowed in the dark as his ears pricked for it, trying to pinpoint it exactly. After a few moments, and satisfied he'd located it, he eased Dante off of him - not out of concern for the idiot, but because he didn't want to wake him, and get his big mouth started - and leaned over the edge of the bed, making sure to stay just above where the frame ended before the gap to the floor.

A few more seconds, and he leaned down further, one hand letting go of the bed to snatch Yamato where it rested against the wall, right there should he have need of it, when he came face to face with the oddest creature he'd ever seen in existance. It was shaped similarly to a rabbit, but the long fangs protruding from its upper lip said otherwise, and it hissed when it saw him, scuttling diagonally to the foot of the bed, underneath where Dante slept.

In all his years, and with everything Vergil had witnessed, he'd never counted on 'under the bed monsters' being real. And for a moment, he wondered if it wasn't simply a dust bunny that had become sentient.

Yamato's blade was exposed, sliding slickly from its sheath, as he glared at the creature, letting his eyes darken. "I believe you picked the wrong room, bottomfeeder." It hissed again, and Vergil pulled the blade free completely, at the same time forgetting his precarious balance on the bed and tumbling head first onto the floor with a flail and a thud.

That unfortunately woke Dante.

"Huh?" It was somewhat panicked, as Dante bolted upright with his own flail, eyes wide and unseeing, before they focused on where Vergil lay in a heap on the carpet, his ass in the air over his head, in what was the most humiliating thing the elder twin could imagine. "Verg?"

Vergil said nothing and went to straighten himself out, as the creature hissed and scuttled along the floor, daring to peek out from under the bed at him, all fangs and red eyes and dripping maw. Yamato was swiped at it, and Vergil missed completely, instead getting the blade stuck marvelously in the mattress of the bed, to the point where he had to brace a foot against it to yank it out, all the while snarling at Dante, "Don't just sit there like the drooling retard you are, do something."

Dante fumbled a moment, hands numb from sleep, and reached under his pillow, before withdrawing the darker of his guns, Ebony, and held it up in question. At Vergil's, "I don't care what you do, shoot the goddamn thing," Dante crawled off the edge of the bed and moved around, still in a sleep-haze, before he laid eyes on it, where it snarled and hissed at them both, back arched, eyes glowing slightly in the dark.

"Y'know..." It was slightly slurred, as Dante's mouth was vaguely numb as well, "that looks like the bunny from The Holy Grail."

There was an outright pause in the room, as Vergil stared at Dante incredulously, ignoring the bunny-monster altogether, as Dante's retardedness obviously took precidence. "The what."

"The bunny. You know." The hand not holding Ebony came up, and Dante held up two fingers like bunny ears, making the hand-bunny 'hop'. "The killer rabbit." He affected what Vergil considered to be the worst fake-British accent he'd ever heard in his life, and continued with, "'He's got huge, sharp... er... He can leap about. Look at the bones!' You know. That rabbit. Too bad we don't got the Holy Handgrenade of Antioch."

"The what." Vergil shook himself from the sheer numbness Dante's stupidity had brought on, before yanking at Yamato once more. "Just shoot the damn thing. I don't care what the hell it looks like."

"I dunno, it's kinda cute." Dante bend down and wiggled his fingers at it, and when it snapped, he drew back in a hurry, wide eyed.

"Do you see now, you idiot? It's a demon, not a plaything." Yamato finally came free of the mattress, almost sending Vergil in a backflip, before he weaved to his feet and firmed his grip on the blade, working his wrist around before pointing it at the bunny-monster. "Now, then. I believe, as I was saying, you picked the wrong room to try to terrorize."

Dante himself could have sworn up and down he saw the rabbit-thing try to stifle a snicker at that. "The hell is it."

"It's a demon, you retard. A bottomfeeder, at that. The so called 'under the bed' monster. It feeds on fear."

Dante rolled his eyes, because obviously he needed a demonology lesson right then and there. "We gotta kill it?"

There was another pause, as Vergil gave Dante the most disbelieving look imaginable, eyes wide. "Excuse me?" Dante was...Well, he was in rare form, as far as Vergil was concerned. "Are you not a demon hunter, loathesome profession as it might be?"

"Aren't you one, too, jackass?" Dante shot back.

"Not by choice, I assure you," Vergil retorted, snorting loudly. "In fact, the only reason I agreed was to pull your retarded ass out of the debt you blundered your way into, so do not start with me, little brother. Now is not the time, this is not the place, and I am not in the mo-"

"If you two don't really mind..." The voice was high-pitched and squeaky, as the bunny-monster climbed its way up onto the bed, all the better to be seen. "I'll just head out now. It seems like you're busy, anyway. I, uh, don't want to interrupt."

Ebony was jabbed in the bunny-monster's face. "Shut up." And then Dante was back at Vergil. "What the hell do you mean, pull my ass outta debt. I wasn't in debt in the first place, you fucking retard. And just who in hell gave you keys to castle anyway, huh? I never asked you for a idamn/i thing. You forced it on me."

"Excuse me?" Vergil's look was wide-eyed. Almost blank, really. "Not in debt? Well, it's certainly no mystery now as to how you managed to get there in the first place, I assure you. And I itook/i the keys to the castle because you're obviously not capable of handling them yourself, incompetent fool that you are."

All the while, the bunny-monster had made its way to the other side of the bed and started for the door, being careful to be quiet. The two who'd taken that particular room were obviously...Not what he was looking for, being too stupid to be afraid, and too busy with one another to even notice he was really ithere/i. When he reached the door, he sat back on his haunches, waving a paw. "Don't mind me, I'll just show myself out."

They didn't even glance in his direction. "What? What? Oh, no the fuck you didn't." Dante bared his fangs at Vergil, jabbing Ebony right into his chest. "You know what? Fine. Whatever you wanna think, Vergil. Go ahead! See if I care! 'Cause I don't. You wanna think you swooped in and saved me, instead of being an overbearing prick who tries to run my life? Fine! If that helps you sleep at night, sugar."

Vergil's eyes narrowed sharply as Ebony jabbed him, giving an internal twitch. "Dante." It was softly said, as he reached up and gripped Dante's hand and squeezing, knowing very well he was going to snap bones with the pressure he applied. "I suggest, dearest brother, you back off. Now. Before it turns ugly." Dante's hand was forced away, though the idiot refused to loosen his grip on the gun. "This is your only warning."

And all the while, the bunny-monster had jumped up, opening the door to the room. "Uh, see you guys around. I guess." When no answer was given, he scuttled right on out, letting the door shut behind him.

"You know what? This shit is so not worth it." With a snort, Dante jerked away, before Ebony was stuffed in the back of pajama pants that were barely holding on for dear life to Dante's hips to begin with. "It's not! Because you? Are a fucking ass." He folded his arms over his chest, taking two large steps backward, and gestured at the bed. "Go on, your majesty. By all means, get your fucking beauty rest." And with that, he spun on his heel, moving to find the clothes he'd discarded earlier in the evening.

"I?" It was said as Ebony was placed with a clunk on one of the tables in the room, before Dante, the king of shamelessness (and completely forgetting all the times he'd accused Vergil of trying to rape him), dropped his sleeping attire right there, earning a wince and a slap of the forehead from Vergil, before moving to shimmy into his jeans. "I? Am so fucking out of here. So go on! Sleep sweet, Maleficent the fucking hag."

As though that made any sense whatsoever.

Once the jeans were tugged up, zipped, and buttoned, and it was safe to look without being blinded by manorexic, pale ass, Vergil rolled his eyes at Dante's temper tantrum, honestly amused. "I know what this is about. Oh, Dante, grow up."

"Uh huh, and what's that, asshole." Dante tugged his shirt on roughly, before shoving Ebony in the back of his jeans and moving to collect Ivory, throwing Vergil a glare. "Go on. You're so smart. What is it?"

"You, my bestest baby brother, are still mad at me for breaking your jaw. Aw, I knew I felt wibble vibes." That earned Vergil another glare, which proved him right and made his lips twitch in a surpressed grin. "Honestly, Dante, let it go. It's over and done, and pouting will get you nowhere."

"Fuck you in the ear." After checking for his wallet and his keys, and making sure both guns were secure, Dante snatched up the keycard to room, throwing Vergil one last glare over his shoulder. "Seriously. Fuck yourself, you self-centered prick."

"Oh, and why would I do that, when I have you?" It was answered with the slam of the door, and Vergil allowed the grin to show, while he was alone. It just went to show he was right, and Dante knew he was right, and that Dante was wibbling like the retarded fool he was. That was all.

The next morning, as they checked out of their room to prepare to hit the road once more, the day clerk at the desk told them in the hushed, false tones of concern that only those scandalized what such a happening could do to their job-standing passed the word along about a man who'd died of a heart attack in the night only three doors down from their own room. The twins, in a moment of complete accord, said nothing, and instead shared a look before handing over the key and grabbing the last of their bags where they'd rested at their feet, and moved on. It didn't mean anything, and neither one could say they cared very much. It happened all the time and Dante, to soothe his own conscience, decided it was a coincidence and nothing more.