Chapter XIV

This was not possible, it wasn't happening, it couldn't be… Dante was going to kill her. How could she have lost Evey…? She knew she was a little rusty, but she used to hunt demons for a living. Why couldn't she keep track of one small girl? Ignoring the fact that Evey could technically be classed as a demon.

Lady tore back upstairs her heart jumping as she searched the rooms frantically. Evey wasn't here, she knew she wasn't here. The girl had taken the address of the office buildings Dante and Trish had left for. The name of the company was Phoenix – Lady had seen that much from the scrawled address. She had a pretty good idea where that was, but it would take Evey a while to get there by foot. It wasn't only demons Lady had to worry about either; it was dangerous for children to be out in the city at night. Especially here… Devil May Cry wasn't exactly in the best neighbourhood. It was hidden where it would be overlooked.

She trudged back downstairs, scanning the room one last time. Evey wasn't here, she had already gone and Lady was wasting time looking for her. She grabbed Kalina Ann, swung the bazooka over her shoulder. She needed to go out and search, but she was worried about leaving if Evey decided to return. She didn't think she could stand to wait though so she didn't really have a choice.

Lady left Devil May Cry hurriedly jumped on her bike – the bike that Mark couldn't persuade her to get rid of no matter how dangerous it might be – and sped off into the street. She followed the safest route, hoping that the girl would have been sensible enough to stick to the well lit, more crowded areas. She doubled back on herself a number of times, searched the crowded streets with her bi coloured eyes. She couldn't see the small girl with strangely white hair anywhere.

This was hopeless; it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. She was making her way slowly towards the office blocks, though she doubted Evey would already be there, accounting for any powers the girl possessed she didn't think that jumping great distances through space was one of them. She doubled back every two minutes, took a different route eyes fixed on the busy pavements. Just great, one thing, one small thing Dante had asked her to do in complete confidence of her ability and she couldn't even handle that. She really had lost her touch.

Lady pulled her into Phoenix's spacious car park, shut off the engine and rested her head in her hands, arms propped against the handlebars. One stupid little thing…

It wasn't doing her any good waiting here though, she wouldn't find anything here. Was Evey intelligent enough – old enough – to catch a bus? Did she have any money with which to do so? Or would she try to get out of paying? Pull some lost little girl act? Lady wouldn't expect it of her, but she hadn't expected for the kid to bolt like that either. Maybe she should drive back to Devil May Cry, check she wasn't there. What if she had been there all the time and had hidden somewhere to get rid of Lady. It didn't make much sense, but she was clutching at straws.

Eventually Lady decided she could at least search the entrance hall of the building. After all just sitting here thinking about how on earth she was going to explain to Dante that she misplaced his daughter was wasting time. The sun had set now, throwing the world into darkness. Dante and Trish couldn't be far off, they had left what? Half an hour earlier, nearly an hour now she guessed. She passed Dante's car on the way to the double doors at the front of the building a phoenix crest printed in opaque white in the centre of the otherwise transparent glass.

The entrance hall was spacious and annoyingly empty. Lady drew a gun and proceeded cautiously. All her old instincts were coming into action – not that they had ever really stopped. She had frightened her husband on more than one occasion when she had knocked him to the ground because she thought she heard a gun shot. It was a habit which was hard to get out of, but she was far better at it now. Strangely enough the unexpected demonic attacks had stopped as soon as she distanced herself from Dante – though it had also been the time she gave up demon hunting. Lady was rather offended that the demons didn't think her worthy of remembering – or holding a grudge against, but she knew that honestly it was a good thing. A very good thing. If her children were ever put in this sort of danger she didn't know what she would do. Dante must have been going through hell.

Dante woke coughing and sucking in air. For the moment it was all he could do, he couldn't even force his eyes open, it felt as though he'd been drowning. His head lolled, his eyelashes flickered and then it all came back to him with a sickening clarity. His eyes snapped open and he choked.

He couldn't see the world before him was a blurred green blue, there was something covering his mouth; something jammed up his nose. His immediate reaction was to pull the thing away, but he couldn't, his limbs were still weak and strangely light, his head was pounding and clogged, if he didn't know better he'd say he had just woken up from a very bad hang over. The initial panic caused by both his own confusion and his worry for Alex made him lash out at the bizarre prison. His hand struck against something hard, bounced off with a dull thunk that echoed oddly in the atmosphere.

It took him a moment to realize he the substance encasing him was water – or some chemical of a similar nature, another to calm the natural panic rising in his gut, assure himself that he wasn't drowning. The thing in his nose was pumping oxygen into his lungs. Dante could survive underwater for a while, but he didn't know how long he'd been here and unconscious he couldn't subdue the natural urges to try and draw breath. So he wasn't meant to die, at least not yet anyway…

When he stretched out his hands again he was met with solid resistance. He knew where he was now as his vision cleared and his demonic half adjusted, his eyes focusing slowly. There was glass before his gloved hands, thick bullet proof glass designed to keep demons in; designed to keep him in. He was in one of those tanks like a frog in formaldehyde. There were wires imbedded into his skin – he only noticed them when a tiny eclectic shock hit him. Great so he was the test subject in the mad scientist's experiment; that was an entirely new one to add to the list.

Now that he had established where he was he needed to find Alex. It took a moment to focus his eyes through the thick glass and the water, but eventually he saw the room beyond. Another annoyingly white and sterile room – though it had taken on a green blue tint from Dante's position inside the tank. There was a jumble of wires snaking across the floor, other scientific looking equipment which he didn't have the patience to study of figure out – not when Alex could still be alive and in danger… or dead… There was a control panel he could barely see up against the railings of a balcony if he craned his head, coloured lights flashed on the surface numbers scrolled horizontally along a computer screen. The rest of the room appeared to be empty, an unnecessary waste of space. Trying to see any further proved to be impossible, the movement yanked on the wires attached to him and sent tiny pricks of electricity up his spine.

The whole sensation of movement was a bizarre out of body experience which was far from enjoyable. His head was muggy, he felt sick and it was still hard to retain lucidity despite the worry he felt for Alex. He forced himself to focus on the room beyond his coffin like prison, find some trace of the boy.

Instead he found Vergil, walking into view to leer up at him with one blue eye. Dante glared, muscles tensed though it was far harder to do suspended in the almost weightless state. He wanted to speak, but his mouth was currently blocked by the mask which kept him breathing.

"Having fun?" Vergil asked his voice sound distorted and hollow through the water, Dante could still hear the biting tone in it though. "Annoyingly I still need you alive for the moment, I could have used your son, but it was surprisingly easy to bait you into the trap and it'll be far easier to extract father's power from you than a tainted specimen."

At the mention of Alex Dante ripped the mask away from his face. He didn't need it; he could breathe fine now that he was awake completely. Bubbles rippled the water before him as the ventilator sprayed oxygen into the water. He choked for a moment and then forced himself to relax, hold his breath, let his demonic half respire anaerobicly.

"Where's Alex?" He shouted through the glass, because all the sarcasm was gone now. He didn't care that Vergil seemed to have gone from psychotic to mad scientist; the only thing that mattered was his son.

Vergil made a motion like he couldn't hear a smug smile on his face.

Dante kicked the glass in frustration; his booted foot glanced off it uselessly. "Where's my son?!"

The elder twin quirked an eyebrow, acknowledged Dante's question and waved vaguely to the right.

Dante's gaze followed the gesture. Vivienne sat crouched close to the tank. Her back was to him and the wires which coiled along the wall in thick metal casing. She sat as elegantly as one could be expected to when wearing a full length dress and on the floor of… whatever this room was for. Not that Dante cared; his eyes were fixed on the boy Vivienne was cradling in her arms. He was pale and bloody, his blond hair matted with sanguine and his eyes closed. Dante couldn't tell if he was breathing. It made his heart seize in his chest, horror showing clearly on his features though it was mixed with anger. That woman was holding Alex as though he was hers, stroking his hair with a mother's tenderness, rocking him gently. It was his son, his child who was dying or dead – the idea too hard to comprehend – and he was in the arms of a complete stranger. Dante wanted to hold his son, needed to know if he was still alive, protect him and grieve if he was dead…

It sent bitter anger surging through him, wild and untamed. Electricity jumped in his blood, surged outwards from somewhere inside. Vergil realized what was happening a moment too late, made his way to the control panel, flicked a switch. It sent fire coursing through Dante, he could feel it draining away the power jumping in his veins, but clawed hands ripped the wires away as he triggered. The sudden burst of energy shattered the tank outwards. Water tore through the glass, sent him, sprawling onto the tiled floor.

He was on his feet in an instant, but instead of going after his twin he turned his back on him. If Vergil wanted to stab him in the back then so be it, he'd already done far worse. Vivienne lay dishevelled on the floor, thrown forwards by the blast, tiny cuts along one arm which she had used to shield her face from the glass. Dante had no mercy for her as he stalked over; she whimpered when he grabbed her injured arm and hauled her up only to shove her away, towards Vergil. He heard her crash to the ground again as her heels slipped on the wet floor, heard her take a few sniffing breaths.

He didn't care, even if she was human even if it wasn't her fault he didn't care. Alex lay on the floor at his feet, thrown onto his front by the blast, his eyes closed. Dante knelt down, slipping back into human form again as all the energy drained out of him. Gentle hands pulled the boy into his lap, brushed the damp, bloodied, hair from his face. Alex was impossibly pale, but there was still a whisper of breath passing between his parted lips.

"Alex?" Dante asked his voice filled with pathetic hope. "Please, please be alright."

"Dad…?" The boy's voice was broken and impossibly weak, it was a miracle he had survived this long. He should be dead, his demonic blood was allowing him to stay alive, but he wasn't healing, he'd been stabbed straight through the heart.

The realization made Dante feel sick. He swallowed and a lump stuck in his throat. His child was dying in his arms and it was painfully obvious to him even as denial rose up in his mind, because he couldn't accept it. He couldn't loose someone else…

Alex's eyes opened, but they were fogged with pain and out of focus. "Dad I'm sorry…"

"No, no," Dante shook his head numbly, smiled weakly; his hand still stroked the boy's hair in a detached way. "This has nothing to do with you, it isn't your fault," he swallowed hard again, feeling emotion knot in the back of his throat. "I'm the one who should be sorry, I should have… I should have just told you everything from the beginning."

"I-I'm a demon?" Alex let the words whisper out of him, he knew he didn't have very many left.

"Yeah," Dante nodded, sucked in a breath because it felt as though something was pressing down on his chest, slowly forcing all the air out of him, "yeah half."

"I guess I can still get into heaven then huh?" Alex asked a sardonic smile quirking the corners of his mouth. The tone of his voice was far too old for the thirteen year old boy in his arms; the acceptance in his eyes too final for a face which was so young.

"You're not going to die," Dante replied vehemently, he refused to see that it was too late for those words; Alex's eyes had slid shut the smile slipping from his features. "I'm not loosing you too, I can't…"

The room was silent as Dante's voice ended in a strangled whisper; the familiar grief of lose ached in his chest like a scar which had been torn open. Then a low, cracked sound filled the room, like some warped mockery of laughter. Dante didn't realize he was crying until the pale liquid splashed onto the boy's cold cheek, Alex was gone. He hugged the limp body closer to his chest as though he could force the life back into him through mere strength of will. His movements were jerky and feverish as Dante cradled his child against his shoulder, pressed his cheek to Alex's cold, dead one and smelt the life still lingering on his skin tainted by the deadly scent of copper.

"No, no, Alex," Dante's voice was a cracked whisper, tears sliding down the curves of his cheeks. "You can't… you can't leave me…no, Alex please…"

He rocked on the balls of his feet, held the lifeless body in his arms like he'd done so many times when the boy had been unable to sleep. Only this time Alex wasn't going to wake up. He'd watched the boy grow up, taught him to ride a bike all of that stupid sappy family stuff he'd sworn he'd never do and now his son had been stolen from him like everything else that was ever good in his life. He'd worked so hard to protect them and make sure nothing bad ever happened to them and it had all back fired. It was his fault, if he wasn't a demon if he wasn't the bloody son of Sparda… That 'title' had only ever brought him misery and suffering.

Finally comprehension pierced his mind. It came in the form of laughter; hollow and triumphant echoing across the room to his ears. Then heavy foot falls on the tiled floor behind him.

"How touching," Vergil leered from mere meters behind his brother. "Didn't I always tell you that those pesky emotions would get in the way? All this pain and for what? You've been fooling yourself Dante if you ever thought you could live a normal life and now you've got a family to pay for your disasters too."

It took Dante a second to let Alex slide to the floor and another to turn around, launch himself at Vergil. He didn't care about weapons or fair fights or any form of conduct. He sent them both to the ground; his hands found Vergil's neck squeezed his airway.

"You bastard, I fucking cared when you died," Dante seethed feeling the muscles tense under his fingers, wanting nothing more than to hear the bones snap. "Of all the underhanded things you could do… how could you sink so low and you even think you can call yourself my brother?!"

His tirade was halted when cool steel pressed against his throat. Vergil had flicked the knife up from where it was strapped to his leg; let the keen edge bite into the pale skin of Dante's throat. It wouldn't have been enough to make Dante stop normally, but it brought a moment of clarity to his clouded mind and that was when he noticed. The hair had fallen away from Vergil's left eye and instead of matching blue it was a deep shade of red. He lost his concentration for a second and it was all Vergil needed. His twin's fist connected with Dante's temple in a harsh blow knocked him over as he lost his hold and skidded sideways onto the floor.

Dante flipped himself up onto his feet, felt his stomach muscles tear in protest of the harsh movement. He turned around to see Vergil standing across from him sword in hand, grinning. Dante cracked his knuckles, got ready to fight even without his weapons. It didn't matter, one way or another he was going to tear Vergil limb from limb. Still he attempted to call Rebellion. The sword was hidden to the side of the tank he had been in and flew to him, Dante caught the blade expertly by the hilt, swung the sword forwards into a fighting stance.

"Let's finish this," he growled voice low and deadly. There was none of his usual humour to it, none of the joy in the thrill of the fight. He was done wishing his brother would come back, see sense. "I'm going to kill you like I should have done all those years ago."

"I'd like to see you try little brother," Vergil smirked. "Considering you can't even protect the ones you love the most in the world I have a feeling you won't be strong enough to defeat me."

Vergil wanted to provoke him, Dante didn't care. He rushed forwards with a roar, swung Rebellion in an arc which would have taken Vergil's head clean from his shoulders if he'd stayed still. But his twin had already teleported behind him; Dante forced his swing into the reverse, parried a blow and surged forwards in his attack. Vergil had always been more skilled in swordplay, but Dante still found himself coming out on top as he drove his twin backwards. Rage fuelled his every blow, made each movement a split second faster. He wanted nothing more than to kill Vergil, make him pay for it all, the long hours Dante had spent alone worrying about his twin's wellbeing and this was how he was repaid for it? By having someone he loved torn away from him again?

Thinking of Alex made his concentration slip. He had yet to accept the reality of the situation, and comprehension was coming to him in small snatches at the most inconvenient times. Vergil swung at his legs, caught him across the shins. Dante stumbled as Vergil flew in for another blow; the keen blade tore across his chest leaving a deep gash running from his shoulder to him. Then Vergil ducked to the side, smashed Dante back into a wall with his fist and drove the sword up between his ribs.

Dante cried out, felt blood paint his lips as the cool steel tore up into his lung with a visceral squelch. He coughed; spat the dark liquid into Vergil's triumphant face. His brother wiped it away with a clear look of disgust.

"Bastard," he growled between clenched teeth when Vergil twisted the blade savagely; he could feel the keen edge grating against his ribs. The man standing mere inches from him meant nothing to him anymore, Vergil was dead.

Moving his sword arm aggravated his injuries and hurt like hell, but he persevered, gripped Rebellion's hilt firmly and threw the blade upwards. Vergil caught the sharp edge in his gloved hand, let it cut to the bone then yanked it out of his grasp. The sword clattered to the ground. Dante stretched out his hand and tried to call Rebellion back to him; Vergil drove the sword further into his chest and broke his twin's concentration.

"Just for once Dante would you do as you're told?" Vergil reprimanded a scowl marring his features. "You've lost; your son is dead because of your inability to save him-"

"You killed him," Dante hissed furiously, tried to get his hands around Vergil's throat again until Vergil punched him across the face. The force of the blow sent more blood onto his tongue as his teeth cut into his lip. He rested his head back against the wall, let his cheek heal and re-evaluated the situation. He felt numb even with a sword parting his ribs, Alex was dead; he didn't know how he was going to tell Trish or Evey, they depended on him and he'd failed them.

"You lost him twice," Vergil replied with a sneer, his red eye flashed with a strangely inhuman light, the evil in it sent shivers up Dante's spine. "Once to some human and then to me. Why don't you just give up and die now it'll be less painful than watching me tear the remainder of your family to shreds."

"How far have you fallen?" Dante snarled, he stared into his twins eyes, tried to find something which was his brother, but it wasn't him… So long in hell would change anybody, but there was something wrong here. Realization sunk heavily into his gut and he shook his head incredulously "You're not Vergil… you're not him… you're not my brother."

Dante didn't give Vergil the chance to respond, he forced himself into action despite the pain in his side. He grabbed his twin by the collar, swung him round and called Rebellion. The sword could tear itself through walls at its masters will, parting feeble flesh and bone was a simple job. Rebellion's sharp edge severed Vergil's spinal cord, tore through muscle and organs as though they were paper. There was a moment of shocked surprise in his brother's eyes and then it turned to fury as blood slipped between the cracks in his teeth, dribbled from the corners of his mouth.

"I'm your brother," the words were hoarse as Vergil clung to Dante's shoulder for support, his brows furrowed and his eyes boring into Dante's own. "I'm your brother." He repeated as though he didn't know what else to say, jaw slack as all the colour drained from his face.

Dante gave his 'brother' a sarcastic grin, he should have realised sooner, there had been something wrong right from the beginning. This trick had been pulled on him one too many times now, it was getting old. Demons were devious this way; he had to hand it to them for figuring out his weaknesses when they supposedly couldn't feel love or loss themselves.

"I'm your brother," 'Vergil insisted again, almost desperately this time.

Dante shook his head with a smirk and a humourless laugh, replied confidently. "You're not. Best impersonator so far though so good on you," he clapped the clone on the shoulder. "First prize, but you don't quite level up to the original."

He detached the clone's hand from his shoulder and watched as he crumpled forwards, Dante stepped aside; let him collapse onto the cold tiles.

He swallowed, took a breath and then gripped the hilt of the sword in his side and drew it out, watching the bloodied silver with distaste and gritting his teeth around the pain. He let the blade clatter to the ground uselessly, gripped Rebellion's handle and pulled the sword from Vergil's back.

The clone didn't react… Dante bent down, stared into the bi-coloured eyes. They were staring and lifeless, he was dead. If only it were that simple though. He flicked Rebellion to clear the blade of blood and turned back to Vivienne fully expecting to see her standing and composed, the amulets entwined in the palm of one hand.

A/N: This chapter wasn't as long as the last couple, but at least I updated more or less on time right? It wasn't as easy to write as the last one, which makes me worry about the quality, but err I'm supposed to not be negative so yeah -nods-. I guess you all understand why Vergil was acting strangely now?

Oh and err guys, review, I know if you fav/alert and don't review, I stalk all the people who add me to those lists XD I know it's something to be expected of this site, but it'd be nice if I could get over the 100 mark on this chapter eh? On the other hand, to those who do review and faithfully too one hell of a big thank you from me :D

Updates on this fic may become a little rare until after June. I have all my GCSEs in may and revision to do - as much as I despise it. That's not a promise though, I'm a procrastinator so who knows?

-Lady Luce