Author's Note:

This turned out to be a rather Vergil-centric chapter, though I hadn't originally intended it to be that way. I guess it was inevitable with the subject matter. I won't say too much, but if anyone was having doubts about Vergil's real problem, then this chapter should clear things up. Hope no one is offended by it, but I do want to warn people up front that there is a hint of twincest in this chapter. Vergil is definitely messed up, but I think most of his problems stem from this one thing that he can't seem to come to terms with.

Anyway, I hope you'll stick with me because the next chapter will have some action and some big answers as well. And just about all of our characters will make an appearance.

Chapter Fourteen

Taboo

Draining her cup of coffee, Doujima complained, "I don't know about any of you, but I'm getting really sick of this dreary little town." She slammed her cup down on the table and peered out the window onto the empty street outside. "We've been here two days already, and we haven't found a single clue to lead us to Lucifer."

Tearing open a packet of sugar, Karasuma agreed, "I know. I'm starting to wonder if coming here was such a good idea in the first place. I have this restless feeling that we've walked into a trap, and yet other than the Solomon agents who attacked Robin and Dante on our first night here, we've found nothing at all dangerous about this place. Does that seem strange to anyone else?"

Sakaki shrugged, swallowing his last bite of pancake. "What seems strange to me is that Michael and I planned on walking to a nearby town to look for computer parts yesterday, but somehow we ended up spending half the day wandering around a field for absolutely no reason."

Smiling coyly, Doujima poured herself another cup of coffee. "I thought that was because you two have no direction sense whatsoever."

"I'm not so sure," Karasuma said pensively, raising her coffee cup to her lips but not drinking. Steam danced above the cup stirred by her breath as she sighed. "Trish and I tried to leave the town too and ended up getting sidetracked. I may not know much about how demons work, but I'm starting to doubt all of these coincidences."

Fiddling with the remains of his omelet, Michael looked up at her curiously. "Are you saying that Lucifer might have something to do with it? Do you think that he's preventing us from leaving?"

Karasuma shrugged. "I don't know what I'm saying. Maybe I'm just being paranoid."

Shivering and quickly gulping more hot coffee, Doujima tried not to think about the desperation of their situation. She did not want to live out the rest of her days in a tiny little spec of a town like this one; it didn't even have a department store, let alone the kind of high-class fashion boutiques where she chose to shop. Making a face as she swallowed the terrible coffee, she wondered how long she could survive without Starbucks. She was already pissed that she had missed the release of the new flavor of frappuccino in Japan: mango green tea with caramel.

"Speaking of coincidences," Doujima said lightly, "Robin has been acting kind of odd lately." Michael immediately shifted his attention to her, but she ignored his cautionary glare.

"Why do you say that?" Karasuma asked.

"Well," Doujima continued, glancing at Sakaki who quickly looked away, proving his cowardice. "Last night we were playing poker in the boys' room."

Rolling her eyes, Karasuma muttered, "What is this, summer camp?"

Continuing despite Karasuma's comment, Doujima said, "And it was the weirdest thing... Robin guessed everyone's cards."

"Guessed their cards?" Karasuma raised an eyebrow. "You mean she won? I never would have pegged her as a poker player, but I'm not sure I see what's so shocking about that."

"No," Doujima answered quickly. "Robin wasn't even playing, but at one point she warned Michael not to raise his bet because Sakaki had a full house. She had been reading a book and wasn't even watching us play before that point, so I don't know how she could have known what he had in his hand. So we started quizzing her and she knew exactly what cards we all had in our hands."

"I told you before," Michael protested before Karasuma could reply. "It probably just has something to do with her powers developing. Remember how she knew about the attack in the airport before it happened?"

Karasuma nodded. "As strange as it seems, I think Michael's answer is probably right. Who knows what kind of things she can do now? It isn't all that surprising that she is developing a skill like foresight as well." Frowning, she added, "Though I wouldn't wish an ability like that on anyone. Especially someone as kind as Robin."

Considering Karasuma's statement silently, Doujima looked out the window again and wondered what it would be like to see the future. She could predict the next fashion trends, or what stock to invest in, but she imagined that the gift didn't work that way anyway. And what would Robin do if she knew that someone she cared about was going to die? Would she tell them, even if she knew there was nothing she could do to save them?

Doujima decided she agreed with Karasuma and almost every movie she had ever seen about prescience. Being able to predict the future was a bad idea entirely. But still, it might have been nice if Robin could tell them what they were supposed to do next.

"Where is Robin this morning, anyway?" Sakaki asked, startling Doujima out of her thoughts.

"At the church," Karasuma said. "Trish saw her leaving early this morning and followed her to make sure she was safe."

"Why does she always go off on her own?" Michael said with a heavy helping of frustration in his voice. "Doesn't she know she's in danger?"

"Maybe we're not giving her enough credit," Doujima commented. "Everyone else seems to be convinced that she's the most powerful person alive—maybe she really can take care of herself."

Her features set in an expression of maternal concern, Karasuma replied, "I hope you're right, Yurika."

-----------

The church was empty and comfortingly silent. Closing her eyes, Robin lost herself in the rhythm of prayers, her mind floating somewhere above the meditative state of repetitive Latin phrases as she pleaded with the heavens for a sign--as well as the wisdom to recognize the sign when it appeared.

Her instincts told her that Lucifer was somewhere close by, but he was keeping himself hidden and biding his time. She couldn't figure out what he was waiting for, but she had a feeling that understanding his motivation was the key to finding him. He was searching for his body just like they were, but she imagined that he had a better idea of where to start looking than they did. Why hadn't he found it yet? She knew that he must have still been looking, because they would know if he had managed to find it—he had already said that he intended to use her in his plans as soon as he had regained his true power.

Morning sun was pouring through the stained glass windows when Robin finally opened her eyes again. She had woken up early and walked down to the church for morning prayers, slipping out before someone could lecture her about going off on her own. Though she appreciated their concern, she felt stifled by her companions' constant worry; she had a hard time thinking when they were hovering over her every moment of the day.

Sitting back in the pew and lifting the kneeler, Robin sighed contentedly, thoroughly enjoying the peaceful quiet. A loud creak from the back of the church broke the silence, and she turned halfway in her seat when she heard the snap of boots against the floor. Allowing the wooden door to swing shut behind him, Vergil walked through the vestibule and into the church leisurely, pale blue eyes sweeping over wooden arches and rows of empty pews before finally settling on her.

She would have expected him to look entirely out of place in a church, but she supposed that Vergil fit the environment in his fine blue coat and soft leather far better than Dante would; though neither of them belonged in a place of worship with their demon heritage, Vergil could at least manage to walk into a church without immediately looking like a heathen or a vagrant. Personally, Robin felt that either of them would have been welcome regardless of their ancestry—God loved everyone equally, after all—but she knew that not everyone would agree with her opinion.

Uncertain why he was there, Robin watched silently as he paced down the center aisle and regarded every aspect of the lofty space with an aloof expression. He paused beside her pew, his eyes focused on the altar and his expression introspective and unapproachable. Something about him always made her nervous, but she refused to let his unshakable self-assurance make her doubt herself.

"Were you looking for me?" she asked faintly, unable to come up with a better explanation for why he would come to such a place.

His eyes darted toward her, but his expression did not change. "No." His lips twisting into a wry smile, he added, "Unlike the rest of you who seem to be content to simply set up house in this town and laze about all day, I'm still working toward our original goal. I'm looking for Lucifer's body."

Ignoring his insult, Robin followed his gaze back to the front of the church. "Do you think it's here?"

"I don't know. I've delayed coming here thus far, but I have no excuse to continue avoiding it now that we have failed to find clues anywhere else," he answered evenly, approaching the altar without a shred of reverence in his posture. "Sealing ultimate evil within the image of that which is considered holy is a common trick."

Robin sprang to her feet and followed after him mostly to make certain that he didn't do anything disrespectful. Despite his often blatant rudeness, he was relatively mannered and polite on a superficial level and she didn't think he would do anything to deface the sanctuary, but she didn't want to take the risk. "If his body really is buried here, then perhaps they thought that it would be safer sealed within the protection of a holy place."

A small smile curved his lips as he glanced back at her, but he remained silent as he climbed the steps and approached the altar. Robin followed him uncertainly after bowing briefly on the first step, her skirts dragging over the marble floor. The church was elaborately decorated, the statues of saints lining the alcoves on the back wall of the sanctuary beneath a mural painted and gold leafed far above. Robin had always preferred simpler churches with minimal decoration, but she had to admit that the statues and paintings were all quite beautiful.

Pausing in front of the altar, Vergil's eyes narrowed as he traced his fingers over the words inscribed into the front edge. "An interesting choice for inspiration," he said softly, his fingers lingering on the marble surface. "Don't you think?"

Blinking at him uncertainly, Robin stepped closer to get a better look at the carved letters. "That's not Latin," she said in surprise. "It's Italian."

"E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle. 'We then emerged to see again the stars.'" Vergil translated for her though she certainly didn't need the translation to understand it. "A quote from Dante and my namesake, The Divine Comedy," he continued, his expression unbearably smug, though she didn't think his arrogance was directed at her. "What is it doing in a church?"

Robin didn't know much about the famous poem, but if Dante and Vergil were named after the characters in it, then the quote was a very odd coincidence indeed. "What do you think it means?" she asked in a hushed voice as if they were sharing a secret.

Regarding her with a weighing gaze as though he was surprised that she had even bothered to ask him, Vergil said in a voice like a literature professor lecturing his student, "The quote is the last line of the section describing hell. At this point in the story, Dante and Virgil have just climbed out of the underworld through an opening in the earth created by Lucifer's fall from heaven." He began pacing slowly around the altar, his fingertips dragging over the marble surface as he walked. "With the memory of hell fresh in their minds, they look up to see the stars, the image representative of their journey away from sin and confusion and closer to heaven."

Though she knew she should be wary not to trust Vergil, Robin found herself gazing at him in awe; something about the moment had the feeling of great significance, the powerful symbolism of the poem colored by what she knew of the men who shared names with their counterparts in the story. She found it unnerving that Vergil could recite the symbolism of the story without believing in its truth; she imagined that if he had been the Virgil in the story, he would have been happy to stay in hell and would have had no desire to accompany Dante out of it.

Her eyes wandering around the church as she considered his explanation, Robin noted the gold sparks of stars painted in the mural on the curved ceiling. Frowning, she walked around the altar in the opposite direction and met Vergil on the other side. His eyes were focused on the velvety rug beneath his feet. Taking a step backward, he lifted the tasseled edge of the rug with his toe and kicked it back. An old stone was hidden beneath it, more letters scribed into its aged surface, though these were written in Latin. Crouching down beside the stone, Vergil began to translate. "Here below is the enemy of man."

Robin shivered. "Do you think he's under the church?"

The sound of someone clearing his throat made her jump, but Vergil merely returned the rug to its place and stood up with fluid grace. A young priest stood behind him, framed within the doorway on the other side of the altar. "Hello. Can I help you?" the priest asked casually.

Vergil hesitated only a moment, regarding the priest with a discerning gaze. "I'm a historian," he lied smoothly, though Robin didn't know why he felt the need to hide their reason for being there. "I'm writing a book about churches built in the same period as this one. I hope you don't mind me taking a look around."

His smile somewhat strained, the priest replied, "Of course not. We leave the church open during the day, but there are a lot of valuable artifacts on display here. I have to keep an eye out for thieves. I'm sure you understand."

"Certainly."

"I don't know much about the church history myself, but the grounds keeper has been here for years. I could ask him to give you a guided tour, if you're interested."

"Thank you. Perhaps I will take you up on your offer later." Vergil bowed his head ever so slightly and then nudged Robin ahead of him with a firm touch on her shoulder. "I'm afraid we really must be leaving. We have another appointment in a nearby town."

The priest appeared to be nearly as confused as she was, but she allowed Vergil to push her down the aisle toward the back of the church. She was so baffled already that she was hardly startled when she saw Trish standing just inside the door, leaning back against the wall.

"Looking for religion, Vergil?" Trish asked tartly when they were closer.

Trying to defuse a disagreement before it happened, Robin asked, "What are you doing here, Trish?"

"I followed you here this morning," she said without taking her eyes off Vergil.

Robin stopped in her tracks, ignoring the weight of Vergil's cool hand on her shoulder. "Why?"

Her eyes still focused on Vergil, Trish replied, "There are a lot of dangerous bastards in the world. I wanted to make sure none of them troubled you."

Finally releasing his grip on Robin and pushing the door open with a bored expression, Vergil commented, "I'm surprised you didn't intervene when you saw me walk through the door." Holding the door open for them and smiling darkly at her, he added, "Or perhaps you actually knew better than to interfere."

Ushering Robin through the door ahead of her, Trish snapped, "I wanted to know what you were up to."

Interrupting the argument, Robin said quickly, "We think that Lucifer's body is buried somewhere underneath the church."

Trish raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Robin nodded.

"I can't believe it." Trish turned on her heel. "Why are we leaving?"

Scowling at her, Vergil retorted, "Because we don't know how to get to it yet and the priest back there was not human."

Her jaw dropping in shock, Robin shifted her gaze back to him.

"We don't know exactly what the stakes are here," Vergil continued, "so I suggest we talk to the groundskeeper the priest mentioned and see what he knows about this church."

"But the grounds keeper is dead," Robin replied, her brows furrowed.

Vergil's pale eyes focused on her sharply. "He is? Was the priest simply trying to mislead us?"

Caught off guard, Robin blinked at him with her jaw agape. "I...don't know. Didn't he say that...?" But she knew that the priest had not said anything about the groundskeeper being dead and she had no idea why she would have thought he was dead at all. Somehow she had simply known it was true, just as she had known what cards everyone had been holding in their hands in the card game the night before. The realization troubled her.

Vergil raised an eyebrow. "He certainly said nothing about the man's demise."

"I overheard a couple men outside the church grumbling about someone's untimely heart attack," Trish offered. "They were pulling weeds in the cemetery. She could be right."

"Regardless," Vergil replied with a dismissive shrug, "We should at least go back to the house and research this church a bit more before making any rash decisions."

"Research," Trish scoffed, rolling her eyes. "That's all you ever do."

"Incorrect," Vergil said sharply. "I am the one who discovered the clues in that church, am I not? And at least I'm not wasting all my time babysitting a young woman who is more mature than most of her protectors." Turning away, Vergil began walking down the street back toward the Monarch, his coattails snapping behind him with his angry strides.

Robin watched him in wonder, unable to ignore the hint of satisfaction that had blossomed within her at his indirect compliment. She felt Trish looking at her and finally tore her gaze away from Vergil's back.

"Don't let him manipulate you, Robin," Trish murmured softly before turning to follow Vergil with a sigh.

-----------

"Not much time left now, Vergil."

Looking up from the historical record he had been perusing, Vergil regarded Lucifer with a neutral expression before returning his attention to the book. "Yes," he said blandly. "Only a few more hours until your arbitrary deadline of three days is up. What will happen if I fail to remove the seal by then, I wonder?"

"I'm sure you do," Lucifer said with a smile, perching on the other side of the desk.

"Why three days?" Vergil asked, turning a page with a flick of his wrist. "Why not four or five?"

Lucifer picked up one of the volumes stacked next to Vergil and turned it over in his slender hands. "Surely you of all people can recognize the power of symbolism."

"Ah, is that all it is?" Turning another page impatiently, Vergil glanced up at him. "How asinine."

Chuckling richly, Lucifer commented, "Is that a hint of frustration I detect in your voice, Vergil? I don't understand what you're so concerned about. You know where to find my body now. All you need to do is break the seal before midnight tonight."

Taking a deep breath, Vergil repeated, "Yes. All I need to do is break the seal."

"I have faith in your abilities...though I am a bit disappointed in your progress with your brother. Have you forgotten my other request?"

Avoiding the knowing gaze in those dark eyes, Vergil tried to focus on the words before him as he turned another page. "I might be able to make more progress on all of the tasks you have assigned me if you stopped showing up every five minutes to remind me of them."

"Very well," Lucifer tossed the book he had been flipping through back on top of the stack. "But your opportunities are running out. Take care not to waste this one."

Confused, Vergil looked up and opened his mouth to respond, but Lucifer was already gone.

A moment later, the door swung open and Dante stomped into the room with a scowl. "I hear you and Robin found something interesting in the church," Dante announced as he shoved the door shut behind him. His glare was as visceral as ever, but Vergil was so weary of the game that he hardly noticed it.

"If you're here to lecture me about breathing the same air as your beloved little bird, don't waste your breath. I didn't know she was there until I got there." Vergil finally found an entry about the church in the record and began reading swiftly, making an effort to ignore Dante as he read.

Wandering father into the room, Dante commented, "This feels familiar. Seems like we just did this a couple days ago."

Disappointed that the passage about the church was both vague and incomplete, Vergil slapped the book shut with a frown. Standing up and carrying the book back to the shelf, he replied, "Maybe that's because we did. Shall I stab you now and save us both another pointless argument?"

Dante leaned back against the shelf and peered at him curiously. "That was a little more brusque than usual. What crawled up your ass?"

His eyes flicked to Dante before he returned his attention to the shelf; something in his brother's gaze made him uneasy. "Move," he said firmly when he realized that the book belonged on the part of the shelf Dante was leaning against.

Raising an eyebrow in challenge, Dante smirked. "Make me."

Vergil considered rising to the challenge, but his sense of urgency over Lucifer's ridiculous deadline stopped him. Shaking his head, he tossed the book back on the desk and turned away.

"Is that it? I was hoping for a fight."

"I know." Vergil reached for another book and began flipping through it. "And normally I would indulge you, but I don't have the patience today."

He could feel Dante's eyes boring holes into the back of his head, but he dismissed the attention. "What have you found out?" Dante asked finally.

"The church was renovated during the time that our father lived here, but the records don't say anything about a tomb underneath it. There is nothing on the floor plan of the church either. If Lucifer's body is buried there, then they kept the secret well."

"Why are you looking for more proof? Both of us know in our guts that it's there. So...how do we get to it and renew the seal?"

Vergil shook his head. "I don't know.

"But you have a few ideas, don't you?" Dante insisted, pushing away from the shelf and walking up behind him.

"A few," Vergil admitted, tossing another useless book aside.

"Then why are you here instead of in that church testing out your theories? So the priest isn't human. So what? That's not something that would normally hold you back."

Vergil grit his teeth at the suspicion in Dante's voice. If things had been simple, then he might have agreed with him completely, but things were not simple at all. Vergil could feel Dante hovering behind him waiting impatiently for an answer, but he didn't have one to give him. Lucifer expected him to break the seal while Dante expected him to renew it. He was trapped between their wishes with less than ten hours left to find a way out of the paradox. Vergil had never been one to give into despair, but he was beginning to feel nearly powerless now—a state he loathed with all his being—subject to others' wishes and unable to even decide what he wanted anymore.

"What do you know that you aren't telling us?" Dante murmured, standing close enough for Vergil to feel his warmth against his back and his breath in the hairs on the nape of his neck. Vergil closed his eyes and tried to focus his mind. He didn't have time for this distraction!

Grabbing Vergil's arm roughly, Dante forcibly turned him around. "Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

Dante's hand burned against Vergil's bare skin—reminding him that he had taken his coat off in a fit of frustration earlier and left it draped over a chair on the other side of the room—and the fiery touch reminded him painfully of the one thing that he could never seem to forget he wanted. Wishing that he had not only left the coat on, but also chosen to wear something more substantial underneath it than his leather jerkin, Vergil tried to remember what Dante had originally asked him.

"Are you shivering?" Dante asked wonderingly, his voice dropping into the kind of sultry tone Vergil imagined he used for pillow talk—but that was a dangerous thought and he knew that Dante had only slipped into that tone of voice out of habit anyway. Venturing to meet Dante's eyes, Vergil was startled by the contemplative expression on his brother's features. His lips pursed, Dante loosened his grip on Vergil's arm and lightly traced fingertips over his bicep and down to his elbow.

Vergil tried to cover the tremor that ran through his body by pulling his arm out of Dante's grasp entirely and taking a step away, a scowl darkening his features. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Damn, you are flustered, aren't you?" Dante breathed, with an expression that suggested Vergil had just confirmed some private theory of his.

"This conversation is a waste of time." Vergil turned back to the desk and reached for a book, not even looking at the pages as he flipped through them and not noticing until he was halfway through that it was one of the books he had already searched. "If you're so eager for action, then feel free to dig up Lucifer's body by yourself. But I want to have a little more information before we commit ourselves to whatever's in that church."

Thoroughly trying to ignore Dante, he didn't turn to investigate when he heard a rustle of fabric, but he was forced to pay attention when he felt the worn leather of Dante's coat fall down around his shoulders. Dante slid in front of him and leaned back against the desk with his arms crossed over his chest, observing Vergil closely. Unable to even speak, Vergil watched him with a hint of dread, wondering exactly what he had in mind.

A small smile tugged at Dante's lips as he leaned forward, placing a hand on the crown of Vergil's head and dragging his fingers back toward himself, essentially forcing Vergil's hair into a rough mirror of his own hairstyle. Peering out at him from beneath a ragged fringe of white as Dante leaned back against the desk again with a grin, Vergil tried to focus on something other than the fear pounding through his veins. Was it possible that Dante had figured out his secret? After years of awkward moments and unexplainable tension, had Dante finally realized that Vergil's true feelings for him were anything but simple—and anything but hatred?

"Have you lost your mind?" Vergil whispered, his grip on the book tightening to the point that the cover began to bend backward.

"I sure as hell hope so," Dante murmured, his expression far too serious for Vergil's liking.

Unable to stand the scrutiny any longer, Vergil took a step away, sweeping the coat off his shoulders and flinging it back at Dante. Trying to slow his pulse and wondering how he had unraveled so quickly, Vergil shoved his book back on the shelf without any regard to where it actually belonged and tried to clear his mind.

"What? I thought you liked my coat," Dante said acidly. "You certainly seemed to like it enough when you spent the night all cuddled up beneath it back in Japan."

Vergil repressed a shudder and finally managed to focus his eyes on the spines of the books, forcing himself to read them simply to keep himself under control. His attempt was only half-successful until he read the name of the book at the end of the shelf and a thrill of hope rushed through him. Pulling The Divine Comedy down eagerly, he began flipping through the pages, searching for the quote he had found in the church.

Though Dante was still talking, he was no longer listening, his eyes focused entirely on an envelope nestled between the pages where the quote appeared. The envelope was sealed, but a note was scrawled over the flap in flowing script that he immediately recognized as his own handwriting. Unable to breathe, Vergil quickly scanned the note.

"Blood is the key," the note read. "Bring Robin. Open this inside."

Vergil slipped the envelope into his pocket and returned the book to the shelf with such aplomb that Dante stopped in the middle of his tirade and simply stared at him. "You're right," he said shortly, turning back to face Dante. "I'm not going to find any answers here. The only way to figure out what we're supposed to do next is to explore that church."

Regarding him as if he thought Vergil was now the one whose sanity was in question, Dante said cautiously, "Okay... What changed your mind?"

Drawing a deep breath, Vergil retorted, "Does it matter?"

"I want to know."

Vergil shrugged. "You convinced me."

"Right," Dante said without hiding how little he believed Vergil's statement.

"We should go to the church immediately."

Now Dante was the one who was flustered, obviously thrown by Vergil's sudden about face. "Now? What about everyone else?"

"This is a task that only you and I can accomplish. It's better that the others stay here so that Lucifer is forced to divide his attention—" Vergil caught himself abruptly, "if he's watching us right now at all."

"Why do I feel like you're trying to trick me?"

Vergil sighed. "Because you don't trust me. But I don't need your trust—just your cooperation."

His eyes narrowing, Dante asked darkly, "Are you sure that's all you need?"

Scooping his coat up off the chair and sliding it over his shoulders, Vergil pointedly ignored the implication of Dante's words. He was not prepared to deal with that particular reality at the moment. "We should bring Robin as well," he added on his way to the door.

"What?" Dante caught his arm in an eerie repetition of his earlier action. "No. We're not involving her in this."

"She is already involved," Vergil hissed, glaring back at him. "And she will be the first person Lucifer goes after if he figures out what we're doing."

"You keep talking about Lucy as if he's hanging around and waiting for us to make a move. Why would he do that? If he knows where his body is, why hasn't he recovered it already?"

Vergil frowned. "Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't have the key." Registering that he had just let a fact slip that he had been intending not to bring up, Vergil quickly reached for the doorknob.

Dante pressed his palm against the door to prevent Vergil from opening it. "You seem to know an awful lot about Lucy that you didn't happen to mention before. So start talking."

"About what?" Vergil shouted, unable to repress the intense emotional reaction he felt bubbling up inside of him. Dealing with Lucifer's constant prodding on one side and everyone else's constant doubts on the other had been exhausting enough, but the thought of Dante finally uncovering his deepest secret had pushed him over the edge. "Just what do you think that I'm hiding from you?" Vergil heard the hysteria in his voice, but found that he could do nothing to suppress it. "Do you think I'm colluding with our enemy—double crossing all of you? Why would I do that? What would I possibly have to gain from it?"

"I don't know," Dante sneered. "Why don't you tell me?"

Vergil threw up his hands. "So, that's it? You're just accusing me of being a traitor without any proof?" Normally that wouldn't have bothered him—he would have expected it, in fact—but now, with his emotions frayed and his control completely undone he could do nothing but react with raw emotion.

Crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head, Dante said, "I don't need proof to know you're a traitor. It's who you are."

Vergil took a deep breath and tried in vain to calm himself. "Not this time," he said softly.

"Then explain where you're getting your information." Dante leaned a shoulder against the door to prevent Vergil's escape.

Sighing, Vergil considered his options. "I had...a dream," he began cautiously, unable to come up with a better explanation that Dante would believe. "Normally I would dismiss it, but something about it seemed too real. I saw the church and the stone behind the altar. And Lucifer." He glanced at Dante to see if he was buying the lie, but Dante's expression was impossible to read—even for someone as experienced at reading his expressions as Vergil. "I don't think Lucifer can reach his body without us."

Dante looked away and smiled wryly while Vergil found himself unable to look anywhere but at those lips that seemed to always want to curve into one of his damnable grins. "I had a dream about Lucifer too," Dante said finally meeting Vergil's eyes.

"Oh?" Vergil asked, stunned by Dante's admission but trying desperately to hide his surprise.

"Yeah." Dante stepped away from the door, his hands dropping to his sides. "I thought I was just drunk, but it was a little too detailed to be explained away by alcohol." He took another lazy step toward Vergil. "He told me some interesting things." Dante's voice was dropping into that throaty growl again and Vergil had to struggle to hold his ground when Dante took another step and was standing nearly nose-to-nose with him. "Things about you."

Vergil's eyes widened despite his attempts to hide his reaction. Had Lucifer truly been willing to risk exposing him in order to push him into facing his secret desires? Smiling smugly to cover his unease, Vergil replied in a whisper, "And you believed him? Surely even you can recognize tactics aimed at sowing dissension between us."

"Oh, he didn't say anything about you being a traitor. He just gave me an unusual suggestion. I wasn't even going to test it out, but then I started to wonder..." Dante grinned coldly. Leaning even closer, he breathed the next words over Vergil's lips. "And he was right. Your reaction is shocking."

Vergil pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him back a step, trying to hide what a difficult time he was having breathing. "Do you even know what kind of reaction you're trying to provoke?" he demanded bitterly.

Shaking his head, Dante retorted, "I know what kind of reaction I'm getting."

"Do you?" Rage filling him, Vergil shoved him back against the door hard enough that it rattled. His hand clenched in Dante's shirt, Vergil screamed in his face, "Do you understand what Lucifer wanted you to do to me?"

For perhaps the first time in his life, Dante was speechless, his eyes wide as Vergil began to fall apart before him.

Knowing that he would regret it, Vergil found himself leaning inexorably toward his brother, his eyes still locked with Dante's but his mind focused somewhere else entirely, focused on lips parted slightly in surprise—perhaps in horror. All of his years of control and restraint crumbled inside of him and he could no longer stop himself or deny his temptation even though he knew it would only lead to disaster.

Their lips met and Vergil's eyes closed abruptly, his entire awareness suddenly refocused on that forbidden touch. Subject to the whims of desires no longer shackled by good sense, Vergil lost himself in sensation, hungry lips and tongue eagerly demanding entrance to Dante's unusually reluctant mouth.

Dante threw him halfway across the room when he managed to break contact, panting to catch his breath and glaring at Vergil with every bit of his being. Trembling with need, Vergil could do nothing but gape at him helplessly and continue wanting what he knew he would never get. "What are you trying to do? Rape me too?" Dante demanded, his eyes nearly glowing with fury. "Is that how you put difficult people in their place?"

Unable to look at him any longer, Vergil closed his eyes and felt his resolve drain away. Lucifer had won this battle, at least. He could almost imagine the self-satisfied smile on the bastard's face as he watched Dante reject him. "I didn't rape her," Vergil whispered, his voice sounding ancient and so very tired, "and I could never...ever rape you." He turned away, holding his arms across his stomach to quell the gathering nausea.

After a long silence, Dante murmured in a fragile voice, "You're serious, aren't you? This isn't just another game."

"Go away," Vergil rasped.

"What?"

"Leave!" Vergil tried to focus his eyes on something but they kept blurring. "I want to be alone."

"Vergil..." Dante's voice actually sounded regretful, as if he doubted his harsh reaction, but that was an opening Vergil didn't need right now.

"Get out!"

At last the door opened and closed and Vergil swayed on his feet, catching himself against the bookcase as a roar of frustration erupted from his throat.

"I'm proud of you, Vergil," Lucifer murmured in his ear, dragging fingernails down his spine. "Only one more task to complete now. And once you've finished it, I vow that you will have a place of honor at my side."

Author's Note:

Well, there it is. I hinted around enough at it that most of you probably figured it out by now, but I'd still like to hear what you think. I know it doesn't excuse the fact that Vergil is an asshole, but I think it explains that he started out messed up on a deeper level and can't seem to get over it even though he knows that what he wants is wrong. Oh, the angst. Feel free to tell me if you just think I'm the sick and twisted one for writing him that way. :)

I really liked the scene with Robin and Vergil in the church. I think their interaction is really interesting to write because Robin can't quite figure out what to think of him and Vergil doesn't seem as susceptible to her sweet little Robinness as everyone else. Or is he? We'll just have to find out…

To ease anyone's mind who's wondering how long I can keep this up, I wanted to tell you that the next chapter is mostly written. It just needs some work. I told you I was determined to finish this thing. One small warning on that front though is that I just got a temporary/possibly permanent promotion at work because someone is leaving and I'm essentially doing two jobs right now. So, I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep up this pace, but I'll do my best! This story has gone unfinished for too long.