Chapter XII: Consequences

It took them a while to get back to their familiar neighborhood and when they reached the boarding house it was almost 3 at night. Even before they got to the front door, Dante could see Roy up ahead, waiting for them in the open doorway. It was difficult to tell his expression against the dark backdrop of the lobby at first, but his figure was unmistakable. He couldn't tell how the old man would greet them. Feeling neither scared, nor proud, Dante just wanted to get Tess some help.

She really wasn't looking very well; her fingers and lips were turning a bruised blue hue and her legs were wobbly and unable to keep her walking. She outright had refused to be carried in any way, so when her stumbling got to its worst, Dante slipped an arm around her waist to make sure she wouldn't faceplant. Now that he saw the djinn waiting at the doorstep for them, Dante realized how he must've looked, having his arm around her waist. He gulped a bit and hoped Roy wasn't going to skin him alive.

Roy didn't wait for them at the doorstep. As they got closer, Dante saw him bite his lips and jog down the steps like he couldn't help himself. He was deathly pale and had a strange expression, worried and relieved. He walked up to them and before either could react he seized both kids, each from one arm, and walked them up the steps and into the building, all the while stuttering a little.

"Finally, you're back. I had half a mind to go out, tearing the city apart looking for you. You're both wet to the bone-frozen! Why did I ever let you two go?" he muttered, frustrated. "Thank goodness you're both in one piece!"

In the lobby, Magda was waiting for them by the kitchen door, holding towels. She looked calm and serene, but her look was sharp, kind of shrewish. She had the look of someone who had not slept and it showed on her tightened face.

"Dry yourselves out. There is hot coffee in the kitchen," she said dryly, handing them both towels. Then she dragged Tess closer to her, despite the girl's protests.

She draped one towel over Tess' shoulders and then used the other to vigorously dry her hair. The old woman looked rigid and strict but her lip was trembling a little. "You're going to get ill," she stated as-a-matter-of-factly to Tess. "I don't want to know what it is you did-I can tell it was exceptionally foolish. Unless of course you want to end up dead."

Tess protested, trying to pry her grandmother off her. "Ow, ow, Grams!"

Dante gulped as Roy draped another towel on him. He was sure that the two adults would murder them for being reckless idiots, and he knew he should be expecting the worse. After the ordeal at the park that he had just survived, he was too tired and unwilling to put up much of a fight.

"Yeah, Tess. You're gonna catch a cold for sure. You should have left me to drown. Ice Princess was already dead. You shoulda left me at the bottom of the lake," he said sarcastically.

Magda glared at him angrily when he said that, but he now saw something different in her look as well: Like she was a little afraid of him. She seized Tess from the arm and helped her up the stairs.

"Come with me," she told the girl. "You need to dry up and get warm."

Tess put up some weak protestations but followed her, looking back at Dante briefly. She had a tired and dejected look that said how much she was dreading the prospect of being stuck alone with Magda and he felt sorry for her. They broke off their gaze about the same time because they knew Magda and Roy would notice…although Dante was pretty sure Roy wasn't going to be so pissed about it. Just then, Roy put his hand on Dante' shoulder.

"Come with me, you need something hot to drink," he said, actually seizing the back of the boy's coat and ushering him towards the kitchen. "I need to talk to you," he added under his breath. All Dante could do was follow, feeling a little intimidated.

Tess got hauled straight to the second floor bathroom by her grandmother. "Listen to me," the old woman hissed, tugging her by the arm and forcing her in the shower stall. "This kind of folly will not be repeated, do you hear me? You are never to follow him again."

"Bugger off Grams!" Tess started, breaking into another coughing fit. "You don't-you don't own me," she carried on as she started stripping her frozen, wet clothes and shivering.

Magda glared at that reply as she took the clothes from her and pulling back her sleeves, she opened the shower's water to hot. "Why must you always cross me? First with your delusional belief that you see the future, then acting as if the halfling is not—"

"Stop calling him that!" Tess shouted, breaking into another coughing fit and wincing as the hot water hit her skin.

"Stop treating him like he's a freak, behind his back! You have no right to call him anything; you don't control him. I bet you hate that! You hate anyone you can't control!" she said, through more coughing and shivered under the hot water.

Magda stared down at her as if she both felt sorry for and was angry at the girl while taking hold of her hands and rubbed the girl's bruised fingers, looking at all the scrapes, cuts and bruises the girl had.

"Hate him? No, he doesn't matter to me. But I don't feel safe," she said sharply. "He is a half-demon and I have had enough experience with demons in my life. I have put up with one hell-spawn already."

"Don't talk about my father like that!" Tess growled at her. The hot water stung on her cold skin and her throat was getting sore and making her voice croak. "You're always like this, talking ill of any person that means something to me!"

Magda smirked, backing off as Tess stepped out of the shower. "A bit sensitive about him, aren't you?"

"Well he doesn't think I'm half that bad!" Tess said, snatching another big towel and wrapping herself in it while Magda draped another one on her shoulders.

Magda paused and looked at her with a strange expression. "On the contrary, you don't seem to think he's half that bad either."

Tess froze, but didn't lose her head. "He's better than you!" she hissed.

Then she actually regretted it because Magda frowned…differently. "Because he doesn't understand. What is happening here is bigger than you two. He puts you in more danger than either of you comprehend. Now get dressed and go to bed. You've been through enough," she said and her voice trebled.

Tess stepped out of the bathroom, aware that she was already running a slight fever and feeling exhausted. Magda seemed unwilling to continue the argument and just followed her to her room, where she helped her dress despite the girl's protestations. The old woman hounded her until she climbed into bed and demanded to be left alone to sleep.

Meanwhile, Dante had let Roy push him into the kitchen, despite the certainty that he was about to get the third degree. He'd accepted the old man's superior experience as a fact and wanted to see what he had to say about this.

Roy had yanked his soaked coat and sweater off him, leaving the boy in his t-shirt, then wrapped him in a big towel. Then he pushed Dante into a chair next to the hot radiator, poured hot coffee into a mug, which he subsequently shoved into Dante's cold hands and draped another towel over his head. He drew up a chair opposite him, sat down and leaned forward with his hands on his thighs, in a kind of anticipating manner.

"Well? How did it go?" he asked, rather expectantly. "Did you get the bastard?"

Dante had raised the mug to his lips, grateful for the hot beverage, when Roy dropped that bombshell, nearly making him choke on his coffee and sputter it. He had definitely not expected the djinn to actually approve of their reckless behavior. Taking caution in his choice of words, he silently wondered if it was a trap. He spoke slowly, sipping his coffee between sentences. The warm liquid trickled down his throat and made him realize how cold he'd been and just how exhausted he felt.

"Yeah. We got him. We got him good," he said.

Instead of getting mad or reacting in any other aggressive or disapproving manner, Roy looked a little excited. He smacked his hand onto his knee and grinned.

"HAH! Good! Excellent! Best news in ages," he laughed, rubbing his chin. "I was a little worried when you snuck out and Tess then almost broke her neck to follow you. Yes, I knew where you two were heading, I'm not a halfwit," he added as Dante stared.

"You did? Then why the hell—"

"Did I not stop you?" Roy finished. "I wanted to. But really… could I have stopped either of you? You'd probably run me over and Tess would've just given me a big fat order to mind my business. No, that wouldn't be fair for either of you."

"Fair!" Dante echoed, somewhat indignant. "We almost got ourselves killed; you could've-I don't know--done something?"

Roy scoffed. "And have you both whining afterwards that I was 'babying' you? Heavens no, I'm much happier with how it turned out. You were so set on going after Chernobog and Tess was so fixed on following you that I was a bit reluctant to get in the way."

"So, you just let us go? You told us that stuff about Chern-the-butter and you still let us go?" Dante quipped. He wasn't sure if he felt indignant or angry.

Roy just nodded with a casual shrug. "It's a little more complicated than that. While you kids were out, we had a little…invasion."

Dante started. "Something tried to bust in?"

"Not in the house, just the protective circle. It was almost breached. I…felt it take," the djinn said seriously. "It was one of those madmen you've seen before. But the important part is that I felt something…different about him."

Dante felt alarmed that something might've tried to get into their home base while he was away. "What happened?"

"The circle held; we're alright for now. Chernobog being out of the picture should help." Roy rubbed his chin. "Anyway, I didn't like letting you kids go out there, but I realized that it was the only way this would end well. Judging from the way you both look, I suppose I was a bit too optimistic about your abilities, but still."

He sat back and sighed. "See…if I'd gotten involved, you two would've raised hell on me. I don't really care about your tantrums, but Tess… No, thank you, I would rather not be feeling her scathing ranting on me for the next decade."

Dante just scoffed sarcastically. He didn't know if he should be angry at the old man or not.

"Besides," Roy continued, "I would be depriving you both of a chance to show these demons that you can handle your own. I won't always be there to come barreling in. And pardon my old-fashioned confidence, but you sure as hell can fight." He leaned forward and patted Dante on the shoulder in a way that was not patronizing in the least. Dante could feel it: He was actually proud. "I'm happy with how this turned out. My expectations for both of you are confirmed. Aren't you?"

Dante shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck and finishing his coffee, feeling grateful for the warmth next to the radiator. "I guess," he said, hesitantly.

Roy smiled at him a little bit, reluctantly. "I hope you're not mad at me."

Dante shrugged. "Nah, if you put it that way, I'm not. Dunno about Tess though." He didn't show it, but he was pretty proud of himself for the respect he'd gotten from Roy and added, "You know, old man, I wanna ask you about something."

Roy nodded, gesturing for him to go on at his leisure, leaning with interest.

Dante leaned forward too. "Something happened to me that I've never felt before. I felt so powerful; I was fast and so...pissed off! I could barely control myself, I felt it. It kept coming and going. I know for sure I didn't want Tess to see me like that. I knew what I was doing but not all the time; it was like instinct."

Roy listened to him carefully and then studied the teenager. He let a small sigh, rubbing his chin again. "So it's started. I expected it had. Your demon half is getting stronger," he said skeptically.

He leaned back in his chair, looking a little absent minded, glancing at the ceiling, then the floor as he spoke again. "You're not ready to control your demonic powers yet. You barely are able to keep them from getting to your head. The fact you could muster control…well, that's hopeful. Pray you can keep that clarity later, because it's only going to get stronger. It could be that you might not be in control of yourself anymore."

Dante shuddered for a moment and shrugged to hide it. That thought unsettled him. If he was close losing control of himself when only a fraction of his power was awakened, what could happen later? He was hesitant to even think about it. The last thing he wanted was to end up becoming like the demons he was so fervently set on destroying.

Roy paused for a moment, as if he was picking his words. "If it goes beyond your control... Well, you'll become like the very kind of demon you so hate; worse, even, if you've been able to kill a greater demon at only sixteen." He gave an absent-minded nod of the head, to nothing in particular. "You're going to grow stronger as you get older. Strength you have; skills, you learn fast. What you need is experience. But neither will save you from yourself if you don't watch it."

Dante watched him eying him and felt a little uncomfortable. Roy looked a little worried about him. "Dammit, stop looking at me like that, I'm fine," he blurted. "I'm not gonna lose it."

Roy smiled kindly. "I know. You're about as fine as a dormant volcano," he scoffed.

Dante sipped his coffee and mumbled, thinking it over. Nocontrol.Just like the demons.No, he didn't want to become something like that. He didn't want to talk any more about this, so he changed the subject swiftly.

"So guess what Tess did!" he said, trying to sound upbeat.

He took another sip of coffee and started drying his head as he spoke. He had to force a bit of faked excitement here, to cut into Roy's worrying. "She…uh, charged my sword with fire! I mean, my sword's blade was on fire from her magic! She said that's unheard of because it's a demonic weapon. Isn't that kinda awesome?"

Roy's brows bowed up. "Wait-what?" he gasped, flabbergast. "She did? Huh… that is impressive. See, witches can use their witchcraft against demons, but not enchant them. Their respective powers just reject each other. Only witches that have fallen in with demons can do something like this. It's amazing that she could do that," he exclaimed, rubbing his stubble.

"So just what the hell happened back there?" Dante asked. "How'd she do it?"

"I can only think of one reason why this worked," Roy said skeptically. "Her firestarting power isn't wiccan; that must be why it can connect with demon relics. But still, I never thought she had it in her to do such advanced witchcraft."

Then he chuckled. "Wait till Magda hears of this, she's going to have to take back all that slandering she's been filling that girl's head with. Come on, tell me what else happened. Don't leave anything out."

Dante hesitated a little.

"I'm not going to get mad. I'm a bit angry at you twerps for almost getting killed, but I'm not going to punish you," Roy assured him. "I know Chernobog must've taunted you, that's how he is-was, anyway."

Dante told him everything as best as he could. It was hard to remember all the details since everything happened so fast. And the rush of his demonic side surfacing, to say nothing of nearly drowning, had blurred his recollections of what happened a little. Roy groaned and palmed his forehead when Dante brought up his near-drowning and Tess' rescue. He called them both idiots but his tone and attitude was of deep concern rather than anger.

If anything…it's nice of him to worry about my ass… Dante thought and actually felt a little bit…touched.

"So I was right, he did talk," Roy huffed.

Dante nodded. "Yeah. Didn't say much but he sure seemed to get a kick out of riling me up. Wouldn't stop mocking me." He finally pulled the towel off his head. "And you were right-he said he had a master."

Roy smirked stiffly. "Yes, I expected so. I know he'd have been very angry that not calling the shots," he said, skeptical. "I'm glad you capped him. I'm not surprised they're after Tess. You probably haven't noticed, but they've been crawling around the area for a while, they've been tagging you two. Only reason they don't attack us is the protection circle. Used to hide us from them, but I think they got past that. But they can't touch us-yet" he said, half gravely, half amused.

He looked at Dante, up and down, a little, and smirked. "You know…you've surprised me. You got a lot more potential than you look. That's good. Don't lose that," he said, getting up and rubbing his knee.

Dante smirked a bit, audaciously. "Told you not to underestimate me, old man." On the inside, he felt nearly embarrassed in a good way. Being appreciated like this by someone was still new to him.

The response made Roy chuckled. "I'm glad you'll still be around to remind me. Now! Go up, have a hot shower and change into something warm. Then straight to bed. I don't care for excuses, you're both shattered. She's going to be sick for sure, and I don't need you out of it at the same time. Get a good night's sleep and let me worry about tomorrow's cooking and such."

Dante smiled, getting up and gathering his still damp clothes and his sword. "Thanks, Roy," he said and then stood up to go upstairs.

Roy patted his shoulder a little. "Don't worry about Magda, either. I'll deal with her. But don't let these things fill you head all the time, just take it easy for a while." Then he chuckled some as Dante walked out of the kitchen. "You know… if I knew him at all, your old man would have loved this. I know her father would!"

Hearing that last comment, Dante smiled, despite himself. Even though he'd always given his father little thought, the idea of him being proud of Dante kind of made him feel good. But the empty lobby then reminded him of Tess and looked up the stairs, just to see Magda coming down the stairs slowly, one hand on the railing. She stopped when their gazes met. The old woman still had a pinched expression and her look turned cold when she looked at him. She then came down to the lobby, very dignified and stern, passing right by Dante.

She's such a bitch… Dante thought. "Hey. Is Tess okay?" he asked her, determined to get an answer from her.

The old woman stopped and glanced back but never really turned. "She'll be quite ill but there is no danger," she said dryly.

Dante sulked a little, his good mood dampened by the old woman's attitude. "Good to hear," he said. He was too tired to snark at the old woman. He turned and walked upstairs to head to his room to sleep. He briefly thought of getting a peep at Tess to see how she was doing, but thought better about it and decided to leave her rest. He was still feeling chilly and just wanted to take a hot shower and sleep.

Magda frowned as Dante took his leave. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders better and with an air of rather offended dignity, headed towards her chambers until Roy came out of the kitchen.

"She's going to be sick, isn't she?" he asked coolly.

"Yes. I will have to prepare some medical draughts for her. She'll be very lucky if she doesn't suffer pneumonia," she replied with an apprehensive glare.

"Hrmph, they're both lucky they're not dead," Roy grumbled.

She didn't reply as she headed for her quarters; just cast a rather apprehensive glare at him. The djinn responded to her look with a strangely calm one.

Roy sighed. Despite serving her for many years, Roy still failed to understand her. He didn't really take her side unless he really agreed and that didn't happen often. He hated taking sides, anyway. He only approved of the behavior of the two kids because he knew it was important to change things. He felt that Magda had evaded the presence of demons and the problem they presented for too long. Despite their recklessness, the kids at least wanted to do something about it. And as far as Roy was concerned, Dante's influence was doing Tess good; he made her step outside her comfort zone and take initiative that Magda would never have allowed her to.

Over the years he had served the family obediently, but his real allegiance lay with Tess, not her. Magda was no Templar witch; merely married into the family. Roy had little binding him to her than a promise to a now dead young woman. He'd made valiant attempts to maintain a balance between Magda and Tess exactly because he knew the history. Magda had lost both her husband and daughter to the plots of demons; once just a little neurotic, she eventually became a very bitter woman, whom age had not improved.

The estrangement of her daughter and the dubious past of her husband as an outcast from the coven his own family had founded had not done much to soften her attitude towards Tess. She cared for and loved her as a blood relation but the pain, bitterness and anguish Tess' parents had brought her was still too raw to be forgiven. Roy understood her attitude, but he always disapproved of how she seemed to be taking it out on Tess.

The very next day, Dante woke so late it was nearly 2 pm when he got out of bed. Incredibly, he was still sore all over and feeling out of sorts even after a long sleep, but he was sure he felt better than Tess would be. Hungry and with the prospect of just resting for the whole day, he got out of bed and dressed, thinking of going to see what the redhead was doing. He made double sure that Magda was nowhere in sight before he moseyed over to her door.

He didn't knock though, wanting to surprise her a little bit. Hoping the door was unlocked, he gave it a try. Feeling the knob turn all the way and hearing a click as it hit the end of its revolution, Dante smiled and moved into a room he had yet to explore. He was always curious about what Tess' room looked like. The first thing he saw was a small couch with a couple of clothes strewn negligently on it.

Tess' room was just barely smaller than his, but looked more lived in. Various posters were stuck on the walls. Her windows had dusty blue curtains, drawn shut. A rice paper lamp fixture hung from the ceiling, along with a dream-catcher with black feathers near the window. Books lined a couple of shelves on the other wall. A pile of more books and magazines stood against the wall under the window, along with a table-light.

He spoke softly. "Tess?"

He heard the shuffle of covers and a small groan. "Hi…" she said weakly, sounding like she had a sore throat.

He walked in towards a bed against the wall next to a closet. Tess was sitting up while a book lay open on her lap and the light was on. An empty mug with a spoon sat on her night-table. He chuckled a little bit as he walked closer, hands in his pockets. She was pale but her cheeks were red and she sniffled.

"Guh, wait, don't get too close, I'm a mess. You want to catch this borderline plague?" she blurted, coughing.

She pulled the covers up to her nose, frustrated. She looked like roadkill, her hair the very definition of bed-hair. She was still in pajamas-all Dante could see was a T-shirt that must've been nearly two sizes too big. Her eyes were a little red around the rims. She sniffled a lot and coughed, and suddenly snatched a box of tissues and hid it under the covers. She looked completely embarrassed to be seen in such a pitiful condition.

"I hate being sick," she croaked.

Dante was really glad she wasn't as bad as he was afraid she'd be after that death-defying plunge into the lake and the brush with hypothermia. He smiled warmly, quite the opposite to usual antics with her.

"Aw, don't worry, I haven't been sick since I was three," he chuckled.

He moved closer and finally sat down on the bed near her knees. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "You know, Twig… I didn't thank you for getting me out of the lake. I would've been deep-frozen fish food if you hadn't. So…thanks," he blurted."I was kinda worried how you were, too."

Tess groaned a little and he was certain she was blushing. "You're welcome; thank you for not dying on me," she replied shyly. "We cut it crazy close, didn't we… And don't worry. It's just a bad cold," she added and coughed. "How about you, feeling alright?"

"Sore, but fine!" He grinned a little. He really felt sorry for her. After all, she was more or less suffering for saving his bacon. "But, sorry to hear that. Anything I can do for you?" he offered.

She sniffled and before she could answer she suddenly pulled a tissue from the box and ducking to the side, she sneezed a couple of times in a row. Dante resisted the urge to laugh and just sheepishly blessed her. She sniffled again and when she spoke her nose sounded blocked. "Thanks, but I'm good for now. I just want to sleep this off. Grams has been feeding me these awful medicine potions."

She made an expression like she wanted to vomit and she stuck her tongue out.

He chuckled a little at the way she spoke. "Alright. It's a good thing Roy's not gonna tan our hides. I don't think he's that mad at us. Can you believe it, he wanted to hear how we did. I think he's proud of you for that move with my sword. He said he didn't think you had it in you," he said and nudged her a little bit.

She snorted and then coughed again, covering her mouth. "Yeah, trust Roy to go all nerdy about this. I knew he was going to drop that strict act sooner or later. Frankly, I think he is kinda pissed at us, but he's probably too relieved we're back in one piece to whine," she said with a small sigh. "I wish I knew how I pulled it off. I never expected it to work, really. Grams tried to not look surprised, but she was. I had fun seeing that."

He chuckled and they fell silent for a moment. He figured she was as awkward as he was and thought it better to let her rest. He patted her shoulder softly.

"You know, Twig…I may make cracks about your size and poke at you…but you damn right shut me up last night," he said and stood up, then slowly made his way to the door. "Fell better, will ya? Chasing down demons won't be fun without you now."

He smiled to hear her chuckle hoarsely. "Alright. Try not to get killed in the meantime," she scoffed.

"You got it. I'm off to eat. See ya, bones." He stepped out and clicked the door shut behind him.

Dante headed downstairs feeling pretty cheerful despite his soreness. As he neared the kitchen he smelled something appetizingly good and smiled. He walked into the lounge to find Roy over a pot, cooking.

"Hey. 'Nother masterpiece, old timer?" Dante said.

Roy looked over and smiled a little. "Always, kiddo. I've been cooking for longer than you can count," he chuckled. "She's got one nasty cold, doesn't she? I can only imagine, after jumping into that lake. She wouldn't have done better if she tried killing herself."

Dante suddenly sulked at that last comment and his expression turned sour when he walked up to the table and slumped in a chair. "Hey old man, it ain't funny when I'm the cause. She risked her life for me, so it's no laughing deal."

To prevent the silence from getting awkward, he quickly added, "What was funny is that that Frost-butt went down to a couple of kids. I thought he'd be tougher."

Roy snorted. "You're underestimating yourself. In matters of your age, yes, it's weird. In matters of power thought, I'm not too sure. You two have potential-you, especially. You just need...motivation." He stopped a while to taste the stew and smiled in approval.

Dante watched as the djinn shuffled around, leaning forward and crossing his arms on the table. "I don't know… feels like there's still unfinished business."

Roy nodded. "That's true. You'll have to watch out now. You do realize, I hope, that news of Chernobog dying will spread in the Underworld faster than you can say 'oh crap'. They'll be on your case sooner or later. Chernobog's master will be undoubtedly intrigued," he said, filling a bowl of stew for him.

He turned and left the steaming dish on the table. "I've already mentioned that your father's insurgence left a mess of warring demons in the Underworld. Tess' old man was caught in that conflict. You don't want to have the same fate, believe me. They'll try to pull you into that mess, even if they don't know who you really are. So make sure you don't do anything stupid."

Although he understood what the old man was talking about, Dante gave him a cocked eyebrow. "Me? Stupid? I don't think you give me enough credit." Absently he thought about that being a mess left behind by his father. Like so many others, including that idiotic dept that Tess was under till last night. He stirred his stew with his fork and mumbled, "Idiot old man of mine."

Roy probably heard him and while he was serving another bowl of stew on a tray, presumably for Tess. "Trees are judged by the fruit, not the roots," he said gently.

He sighed, making a mug of hot tea for the tray meant for the sick witch. "You know…" he said awkwardly. "I didn't thank you for saving her. If there's anything I can do, just let me know. I'll take this up to her. Enjoy the stew!"

Dante had tasted the stew and winced a bit, halfway between a smile and a painful grimace. It was tasty, but still a little too hot to really enjoy. As Roy lifted Tess' tray, Dante stood up.

"Wait-do you mind if I take it up to her? I mean, mine's still a little too hot, so lemmie do that while it cools off," he offered spontaneously. He watched Roy anxiously, wondering how the old familiar's reaction would be.

Roy raised an eyebrow and barely held back a smirk or a laugh. However he just shrugged, putting the prepared tray down. "Be my guest. But if she's sleeping, don't wake her up. It'll be worse than hell," he said, while preparing another tray that presumably was for Magda.

Dante smiled and nodded, picking up the tray from the counter and then going up the stairs to Tess' room. The only reason he was doing this was because he thought it'd be funny to see her expression and maybe tease her a little to cheer her up.

He balanced the tray on his hand in order to quietly open the door with the other. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and went inside, his eyes stopping on the curled form on the bed. So she was sleeping. Stepping softly up to her bed, he rested the bowl on her nightstand, pushing the existent mug inwards softly. Looking over, he saw clumps of her hair poking from under the cover. He was torn between letting her sleep and waking her up so she'd eat something. He hesitantly put his hand out to touch her.

"She sleeps. Don't wake her."

Dante nearly jumped with a silent cuss. Magda had spoken gently but suddenly from the door. Dante whipped around quietly to meet her gaze and against his will, he felt his face get hot. The old woman stood at the doorway, dressed in dark clothing and stared at him very calmly but her appearance had a certain weariness to it.

"You startled me," he muttered quietly while staring back bravely.

Magda merely smirked and moved over to Tess' still form. The girl was sleeping quite heavily. She'd likely dropped off right when Dante went downstairs. The old woman's features seemed to soften a little as she reached out and pulled the blanket over the girl better then moved some hair out of her face. For a second, there was almost a hint of tenderness in her look.

"Her fever dropped a little," she stated dryly. "You take quite an interest in her, don't you, Dante?" she added, almost slyly. She wasn't all too pleased with that fact.

Dante frowned at her tone. What the hell was her problem? Couldn't she let up even now, after they'd survived that mess? So what if he liked the little shrew!

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," he replied in a matter-of-fact voice that defied Magda's steely gaze.

He felt quite cocky, now that they'd beaten Chernobog and even more so after he'd gotten Roy on his side…even under those circumstances.

Magda stood straight and turned around to face him, hands clasped in front of her, in a dignified manner. She chuckled. "You shouldn't wear your heart on your sleeve so proudly," she said. "Otherwise it will end up broken too easily."

Dante frowned. "No offense, but I don't need you telling me how to live or whatever." He was pretty annoyed and he was sure it showed in his expression, but the old witch hardly seemed to care. "Look, we're friends, okay? We like each other. I'm not one to pry but with your attitude, she sure as hell needed one" he said quietly. "What's your problem, anyway? You can't keep her caged up forever!"

"Fool," she said coldly. "That's her nature, to attach herself to anyone-to foolishly risk her life. She's naïve and ignorant to the ways of the world and she's ignorant in the manners of demons. She would have thrown herself into danger to save anybody. She doesn't understand what she's facing and it would be an early death for her. She isn't made for the things you are."

Dante frowned worse. "You don't even know your own granddaughter," he growled. "All you see is a weak and scared little girl because you blame her for something her parents did to piss you off. She's got more guts and strength than you think. You keep pushing her away and it'll be a lonely end for you."

With that he walked out past her then went back downstairs, steaming. The funny part was that he felt about as angry as he felt awkward. Never in a million years had he imagined he'd be defending Tess' integrity so fervently, to her own grandmother no less. Dante could tell by now that perhaps if Magda was different, Tess might've been less irritable and less prone to being so defensive.

Dante returned to the kitchen to find a now perfectly lukewarm stew on the table, but he was a little too irritated to enjoy it. The teenager mumbled quietly, as he sat at the table. "Old bag. Who the hell does she think she's talking to?"

As he sat there fuming and nibbling at his stew a little. He was still sitting there when Roy returned to the kitchen. He moved to the pot, presumably to get some stew himself, eying Dante carefully. He tilted his head sideways and stared.

"Goodness, now what happened?" he asked.

Dante looked up and then slumped in his chair with his arms crossed looking off to the side. "Just the old lady getting on my nerves. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Oh. Magda gets like that. Ignore her," Roy chuckled. "She's pissed that she's not in control of you. That's all. She doesn't want Tess ending up like her mother," Roy said, rubbing his chin and setting his plate.

Dante chose not to go on to matters of how he and Tess got along and how the old hag seemed to want to get in the way. He did, however, inquire on a different subject that had been on his mind while they ate.

"Hey, Roy...how is it that some demons can pass through my father's seal?"

"Hmm, interesting question," he said, pausing to think. He broke a piece of bread. "My theory is that the seal, though extremely good -and I mean no offence to your father- isn't perfect. Minor demons, like those that require a medium to exist in this world just...slip through the cracks. The bigger, more powerful ones…well, there's two possibilities. Either someone summons them through, or they were here in the first place and were stuck here when the seal was placed."

Not entirely satisfied, just Dante listened while eating the stew. "Theories…" he sighed.

Roy smiled wryly. "I know. But that's the best I can do. I'm a djinn, Dante, I know a lot about demons, but only as enemies I have to protect myself against. I'm just as much of a learner as you are."

They ate in silence for a little while and Dante considered something that was bothering him since last night. "Hey Roy… how good are you with fixing guns?"

Roy looked up. "I suppose I'm decent. Why?"

Dante suddenly leaned forward and drew Ivory from the back of his pants, putting it on the table and sliding it towards the old man. "This is why. Chern-o-thingy busted my guns," he said dryly.

As soon as he'd started changing, Dante had taken notice of his guns. They were in pitiful condition and damaged after the big fight with Chernobog. He'd despaired, but remembered Roy bragging he could repair anything.

When the gun stopped in front of his dish, Roy stared down at the firearm, then picked it up and examined it rather expertly. "Ow. You poor baby; what did he do to you?" he muttered. He shook his head, looking at the big crack along the top of the barrel, the small dents on the slide and the chipped surface. He cocked it and shook his head at the nearly broken safety. "Goodness."

"Yeah!" Dante replied, taking out his second gun and sliding it across the table as well. "This guy looks better, but they could both use some work!" The black gun stopped in front of Roy to reveal its scratched, dented and chipped surface. "I'm a good swordsman, but I dunno, I tend to reach for the closest gun when a fight's up."

Roy chuckled, setting Ivory down and pulling a slice of bread in two. "Yes, I get your point. Alright, I'll have a look at them. I don't mean to brag, but I'm a jack-of-all-trades, I can repair anything. I'll start work on them tomorrow. Maybe this will keep you out of trouble for a while."

Dante sulked and almost glared at him. "Hey, old man, these two have saved my life more than once, but I'm not going to sit on my ass like a good little brat while you dally around! If you can't fix them fast, I'll just take them to a gunsmith."

Roy's head snapped up from his dish and he looked offended. He bowed up an eyebrow.

"What smith?" he barked. "You won't find one in miles! Besides, are you challenging my ability to repair things? Fine! I'll go start work now and starve myself to death! Bah!" the old djinn said.

He stood up angrily and picked up both guns, then trudged towards the basement. "And you bloody better not interrupt me while I'm working or I'll peg your face-permanently!"

Dante was taken aback at his explosion but still smirked. So, the old man's got buttons after all! I didn't mean to sound like an ass, but wow, he does take this seriously.

Feeling like he wanted to play around a bit, he picked up the bowl of stew and followed into the basement after Roy, his boots thudding on the creaky steps on his way down. It was damp and dark, like a cave, but surprisingly clean. A set of lights hanging from the ceiling illuminated the basement and the pantry corner that he was familiar with by now with the laundry machines and Roy's working bench off to the side. He grinned, seeing the old man stand over his bench; Roy was muttering to himself angrily, but had rolled his sleeves and he was looking down at the guns laid onto the workspace with a serious expression. Dante put the bowl down on the steps and backing up a step or two, he called out as if to a cat: "Roy! Dinner!"

A loud cat hiss was his reply, along with a few choice curses and Dante cackled a bit as he trotted up the stairs and back to his seat to finish his dinner. He'd never get tired of messing around with the old man.