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Babbling
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Betad by the almighty Nimlinven
She has now received an official title of the Muse))) luv u dear!
Posted right after finished but hell! Look! I'm ON TIME! It's the 15th! Yay I'm a barchellor with no marks less them B!
'Dialogue' "Thoughts"
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Chap 26
Point of no return
Vergil drove automatically, unaware of his own hands turning the wheel. All he was aware of was his younger twin sitting beside him on the black leather seat of the Jaguar.
Dante was torn apart from him. His twin, a part of himself, was supposed to be forever his. Yet…
"Dante has own thoughts and his own wishes, not like mine. Did I get too used to him always being there? Always waiting for me. Did I think he would follow my selfish choice? What happened to me, to fall so low as to seek acceptance…
He is his own man. Has his own body, covered in the marks that I do not want to disappear.
Do you hate the marks on your skin now, Dante? Do you shudder in disgust when you remember?
I don't. And what scares me despite all my rational decisions to follow through being just your brother – I want more. Much more."
The devil hunter was a little chilly, the morning wind making him shiver. He hugged himself and brushed his shoulders, looking for warmth. The bruises on his neck hurt slightly. His left hand he could barely move. The blood was still oozing out of the wound but he didn't do anything about it.
He could care less about the demons at their home, about the wound or about becoming human, about the rare people in the streets, their surprised glances at the blood on his bare skin, about the fresh lines of the medieval houses, columns, doors, about the sun sparks in the sky-blue-coloured squares, arches and circles of the windows.
This morning the realization of what happened last night grew stronger with every passing second and the significance of the sex that seemed surreal yesterday, grew immensely now in his mind.
"I did it with Verge…" Dante pondered. It was going to affect both of them, inevitably. But the devil hunter could not understand how he was feeling about it. The only thing he knew – Vergil was still interested in him when he had become man again – and it scared him.
Why did Vergil want him? Before Dante told himself his brother was ill and injured, then Vergil was memory-less, then he was plain worried after Dante's trip to Hell, then Vergil was angry… Now Vergil was Vergil, no excuse.
The older Sparda frowned. He could always say when Dante was in deep thought and now was definitely the case. Apart from Dante in deep thought being something completely unnatural, Vergil sincerely wished to resolve the tension somehow. He wanted to talk, yet both of them stayed silent in the chilly morning.
"I know you are afraid, Dante." Vergil sighed to himself. "It hurts knowing you are afraid of me. But even worse is the fact that I do not feel capable of holding back. I see you have your resolve, yet you give in at time – I remember the smell of your skin under the rain in this very car, and the way you reached up to my lips back at the agency. I won't be able to stay by your side and restrain myself. Forgive me, Dante, but I will run. Run away from you."
The azure Jaguar stopped in front of Devil Never Cry. Vergil wanted to say something – anything. It would be nice to discuss it now, since the street was completely empty, only the sleepy figures of the old sky-eyed houses.
Dante threw his head back and stared at the sky. "I know nothing." The sun was slowly rising from behind the horizon and its golden and orange crown had already shone through half of the sky like a great firebird. "I just know we have to stay together. All else we will work out, right?"
Hands on the steering wheel, glaring ahead, Vergil saw from the corner of his eye as his younger twin slipped his fingers onto the silver door handle and pushed. Nothing happened.
'What the?..' the devil hunter grumbled.
'I may humbly guess that you inability to push this perfidious handle is due to your slightly un-demonic condition,' the older Sparda droned lazily. 'Might I add that it may be also a matter of a little through-hole in your left shoulder that will soon drown my Jaguar in your not-so-demonic blood? And by not-demonic, if I would be allowed to comment as such, I mean human, you dolt, which understates it needs immediate attendance.'
'Y'thinkso?' Dante eyed his brother skeptically. 'Maybe I just want to sleep since those stupid mothafakas of the demons woke me up too early? Not everybody wakes up before dawn, y'know?'
'Tch,' Vergil opened the door quickly and slid out of the driver's seat. Before the devil hunter saw it coming, the tall figure was standing near him, the door of the car was opened by strong slender fingers of a katana master, and Vergil had leaned in to embrace him.
'What the fuck, I said don't touch me!' Dante slapped the hands away, but his body didn't obey, he just ended up clutching to his older brother's bare chest for support. 'Why the heck am I so dizzy?' He muttered, hiding his face on Vergil's shoulder. There was the fresh smell of morning and the lingering afterglow of the smell of sex. Dante shuddered. It turned him on.
'You are dizzy from the blood loss, moron.' Vergil had his hands around his brother. 'Hold on,' the older Sparda pulled Dante and the younger twin ended up sitting on Vergil's hands with his legs on both sides of Vergil's waist.
'Uh,' the devil hunter just moaned and almost went to sleep immediately with his arms around his older brother's neck.
'Hang on, Dante, we'll go home and take care of your wound.' Vergil turned his head and kissed lightly the messed white locks. He grabbed the man in his arms tightly, pressing their bodies together, and hurried to the door of Devil Never Cry.
'Mmm, you're hot,' Dante meowed, very pleased.
'Wot?' Vergil's lips cut out and he froze while grabbing the iron doorknob. It was suddenly not chilly anymore with Dante hanging on him, breathing into his ear and saying he was hot. Even the wet feel of blood on Dante's left side didn't help. The blood was warm and it was slowly crawling down. The warm rich liquid of life was smeared between their bare chests. No, it just made everything much worse.
'My left arm is cold, Verge. So it's nice that you are warm. Kinda pleasant…' the devil hunter shamelessly cuddled into the embrace.
'I swear I'll kill you, you bitch,' Vergil hissed through grit teeth with venom and disappointment. He went into the agency. "Of all the possible things to say! I will fucking kill you with overly fucking…despite how pathetic the pun is."
'What the?..' Hearing the door open Trish lowered the newspaper to look up. What she saw was not a usual way Dante appeared on the doorstep of the agency – and instantly took her long leather-clad legs off Dante's desk, dropping the ever-suffering antique telephone to the floor, and rushed to tear the devil hunter out of the predator's paws. 'Dante, are you?-…'
Vergil stopped halfway to the staircase, arms around his younger twin in a possessive curl, engaged in a silent glaring battle with the demon.
'Chill, 'm fine,' the devil hunter rolled his eyes even though he couldn't see Trish. 'Just messed up yesterday a lil.'
'Yeah, rrrrrrright,' Trish narrowed her eyes, but decided against the morning murder and just leaned onto the back of the purple couch, her arms crossed.
'Look, I don't really feel like hearing any lectures now, y'know?' with great effort Dante tore his cheek from his brother's shoulder-blade and turned his head to look at her. 'Feel like shit.'
'Because of the wound and the bruises?' Trish studied with suspicion the half-naked twins, especially Dante's ass with the thin line of the thong that lead down into Vergil's fingers. She appreciated the skin-over-muscles masterpiece in front of her, but she didn't like the messed-up state and the wound. 'Nice ass there. What kind of demon did you fight today?'
'We didn't fight nothing,' Dante yawned. He had only one desire at the moment and it pretty much was a horizontal position in bed. 'Those're hickeys, not bruises. We had sex. Can we go now?'
Trish slowly, as if she had been training under Vergil for years and was now his full-blown apprentice, raised her eyebrow in a perfect fit of outraged disbelief. She let the silent pause stretch for several seconds, hoping that the older Sparda could feel the murderous vibes and the castrating intent.
'Want me to kill him?' She asked Dante nonchalantly. Trish knew from experience that the devil hunter informed her usually the hard way – exaggerating and sparing all the important details, but this time she decided against demanding the details - he could keep all of them to himself if sex with Vergil was really what happened to him.
'Nah,' the devil hunter yawned. 'T'was my idea anyway, so he's kinda not to blame.'
'Oh, I see,' Trish cocked her head, apparently skeptical.
'Do you think she is buying this bullshit?' Vergil asked his brother, tossing him up a little so that it was easier to hold him.
'Try her,' Dante countered, and he and Trish stared at the older Sparda expectantly.
'That's the truth,' Vergil tried.
Trish slowly, as if she had been training under Vergil for years and was now his full-blown apprentice, formed a perfect 'o' with her red lips and pronounced a very level and very implying 'Ohh. I see'.
'Whatever.'
'Whatever,' the twins said in chorus, and Trish's stare followed the Vergil-monster with Dante's head on the shoulder and Dante's legs on both sides of his hips heading upstairs.
'She'll deal with it,' the devil hunter told his brother, trying to start a conversation. He was afraid of leaving the word sex linger over them in silence.
'I know. Of course she will.' Vergil hit the wooden door with his bare foot and entered Dante's bedroom.
On one of the leather armchairs to the left were Dante's clothes meant to be worn that day, sky-blue jeans, a white tank top and a deep maroon shirt with sleeves rolled up in advance. In the armchair next to it were comfortably resting two red All-stars. The dirty white soles on the black dim-shining leather. Vergil itched to squish his twin's ribs in his embrace for doing that, but by some superhuman effort he made himself go to the bed and lay Dante onto the black cover.
'Stay put,' the older Sparda threatened. He frowned at his younger brother lying lazily, one hand over his eyes, the other thrown flaccidly across the pillow, legs bent at the knees and put slightly apart.
"Couldn't he lie down like normal creatures do?" in his mind Vergil rolled his eyes. "Close those fucking long marvelous legs of yours. For the sake of all sacred there is, is that the best way to lie in nothing but a women's thong in front of someone who told you they were gay? Get a bloody brain you problem-inducing ass! Oh, just why does it have to bother me so much?"
'Stupidity must be contagious,' Vergil muttered to himself. He ignored a strange rather big yellow-papered package in the middle of Dante's antique desk and kneeled to ram through the drawers searching for the first-aid kit. He finally found it, in the drawer with a number of syringes and four different packs of strange colorful pills.
'Come on, sleeping beauty,' Vergil sat onto the bed near his younger twin. Dante smiled at the feel of his brother's body close, rested his left knee against Vergil's shoulder and moaned happily at the warm contact.
Vergil ignored his younger brother and opened the kit. Most of what was supposed to be there was crammed into one part of the box while in the other were pills, powders and ampoules with medicine of the type that always required prescription and was way stronger than what was recommended for healthy people. 'Why am I not surprised. Sit up, Dante.'
The devil hunter didn't flinch.
'Dante!' the older twin called again, louder. The devil hunter grumbled some swearing nonsense and turned onto the side.
Vergil sighed in defeat. It seemed the blood loss and the lack of sleep put Dante into a slumber. So Vergil had to do everything himself. He slowly uncurled Dante back into lying on his back and even pushed the younger Sparda's arms along his body. Seeing him for once not twisted into some strange position that even a yoga master would consider uncomfortable made Vergil remember the past. When their habits were not that different yet. When their hair fell down the same way. When they would switch places to fool around with their parents. When they would switch beds, clothes, shifts, tasks. When they would switch swords – and no one would notice. "Could we now? Could we now know each other the same way?" Vergil leaned down and left a light peck of a kiss on his younger brother's forehead.
The wound had to be treated despite all the cozy feelings and reminiscences, so Vergil put the best antiseptic he could find onto the gauze and cleaned the hole on his brother's shoulder, touching the hurt skin very gently, dabbing at the wound lightly. He carefully rubbed away the long uneven stains of blood from Dante's chest, the blood trails leading across the muscles over to the nipple, lower to the worked-out stomach.
"Why do I have to do this in the morning right after he said sex was no option? After what happened yesterday I am positively doomed to trying to imagine what it could be like if he was not a woman. If I liked it as it was, why do I have him on my hands semi-conscious and almost naked on my hands with a fucking prohibition for any action?" Vergil threw away the used reddened cloth and prepared another for the hole from the side of Dante's back.
'Dante,' he insisted, but in vain. 'Fine. You want it bad? I'll give you bad.'
The older Sparda bent over to speak to his brother's ear. 'Day,' he called huskily.
'Mnph?' Dante reacted.
'Day come on, be a good boy and let me help you sit up.'
'Mhnah,' the white-haired sleepy disaster answered, yet took his arms, stretched them up, then let them fall onto Vergil's shoulders.
'There, hold on.' "There is at least one thing I can give you now, this demon blood of mine. Let it be your remedy."
Warm. Dante squeezed his eyes and let the hands take him higher and higher. The dizziness was light and pleasant. The hands were pushing away the cold shivers from his left shoulder. Then there was the icy smell of pine trees like in an evergreen forest. The soft short locks between his fingers, the back of the neck that he pushed closer, a snicker into his ear and the tender shift of skin on bare skin along his shoulders, chest and stomach. Someone very close. A prick of a needle and life flowing into his body, his brother's life, every cell becoming aware of the happiness and excitement, the fire of every colour of the rainbow pulsing in his veins. Lips whispering 'More'. His own lips. Against Vergil's ear. More of that liquid hot life, and calmness.
Dante's wound had closed completely, and the older Sparda threw the third syringe to the nightstand. He looked for a cloth to wipe away his brother's blood off his chest where their bodies had been touching, but his own skin had already sucked all the rich crimson and devoured it.
The devil hunter had fallen fast asleep finally, his fingers still in Vergil's disheveled hair, clutching at the short strands. In his uncomfortable position, sitting on the edge of the bed but bent down into a clumsy embrace, Vergil snickered yet again and rested his forehead against the side of Dante's neck.
'You need any first aid?' Trish asked from the doorframe, as she remembered too clearly the bloodied back and the black hole in Dante's shoulder.
Vergil jerked in surprise and turned to face her. Dante's hand slipped from his hair, brushed the older Sparda's cheek and fell down to the bed. 'No, thank you, that would be unnecessary since the wound has already closed and the condition is stable.'
"I definitely need to restore my habits of being on guard no matter what. You are making me too lenient, you fool."
The blonde leather-clad demon eyed the Sparda twins, and by the way they were intertwined there on the bed she knew misfortune was already here.
'Did you tell the truth?' Trish made herself ask and before Vergil had time to answer, she spoke herself. 'If yes, then best would be for you to disappear from his life. Dante had always been too aware of you, so now he will lose all peace of mind, if there ever was any. It had always been Vergil this, Vergil that, so you do not go around having sex with your – attention here – brother who follows human ways – and expect no consequences. You can't expect him to treat the fact as a trivial matter of the varied sex life he has, and this, I am pretty sure of it, is the way you see it.'
'And remind me,' Vergil frowned slightly, several white strands, previously messed up by Dante, fell across his face that wore the intimidating expression of when he had to battle – the lips in a thin line of concentration and the dark glower from under the brows with the azure pupils almost shining. He hadn't accepted the demon and her being nosy irritated him to no end. Apart from the fact that when someone tried laying out the truth that he had no desire to take note of, it drove him mad. 'Why do you even have any saying in this matter?'
'May-be,' Trish chuckled at the older Sparda and invited herself in, making a couple of strides, heels tocking on the wooden floor. Vergil wished for her heels to break. '…Maybe, because I am the one who takes care of the mess called Dante that you tend to leave behind every damn time so persistently?'
She had this face – their mother's. The long hair coloured gold. The red lips and the tender eyes. Despite all that, Vergil was going to murder her. Again. He had never had any need to slay a demon like her, but he was going to do it right this time, following all the rituals to make sure she wouldn't come back. He was no slayer himself – unlike Dante, no. Yet he was going to murder his own kind. In the eyes of a commoner that would be a demon-like thing – betrayal. Very typical for a lesser demon. If he had to do it for Dante, he would stoop so low. Why not, if the result was so obviously alluring?
'Did it not ever occur to you, that for once, maybe for once,' the older Sparda sat upright, took hold of his brother's hands and glanced at his sleeping face before continuing. 'All I wished for was that for once, when I leave something behind for reasons far beyond my powers, I wanted it not to be picked up by some bitch fake demon, or by some wench demon hunter with a wrecked life? That for once I wanted to look back and maybe – maybe! – see that I was still waited for? Cared for? All you mother fucking sluts do is come and use the moment of Dante's sorrow, and exploiting his weakness, you get to him.'
Trish fell deep in thought.
Vergil stood up, in total silence he moved Dante closer to the edge of the bed and pulled the devil hunter to lean onto himself, while with his free left hand he jerked the blanket together with the bedcover off to open up space on the bed his younger twin. Vergil carefully put his brother back onto the pillow and covered him up. Dante murmured something and got comfortable on the soft bed.
'Sleep well,' Vergil said, and brushed the hair off his forehead.
'You are being groundless.' Trish whispered angrily not to wake the sleeping devil hunter. 'Whether it is me, or Lady, it's never enough whatever we do. These couple of month Dante was a complete wreck, drunk and lifeless, practically buried here in the agency. When you leave or when you fight, you are always right, and Dante is left broken and what he needs to push him out of despair is always you. And it's only you!'
'Oh I sincerely hope so,' Vergil spit out. 'Now, if you have finished your unwanted preaching, leave for I need to change my clothes.' He came past the demon, his stare forcing her to move to the side to let him go, then stood in front of the wardrobe, looking at his reflection in the oval mirror of the ebony door of that old piece of furniture. Seeing as Trish didn't go out of the room, he elegantly moved his hand to the right – to the door which was right next to the wardrobe. 'If you please.'
'Shit,' the female demon sighed, threw the red All-stars out of the black armchair and plopped right onto it. 'I didn't mean for it to end like this. I just-… don't want your royal ass to hurt Dante, you know?'
'Today has proven that the royal ass belongs to Dante, actually, but I can see what you are saying.' Vergil threw his head back and closed his eyes for a second. The murderous desire was gone.
'So, are you gonna do it again?' he could hear the hope in her voice, but Vergil didn't know, whether it was the hope for him leaving or staying.
'I have some business to take care off,' he said and opened the wardrobe door, taking a peek at Trish's reflection as it slid in the mirror.
'I see,' she replied plainly and rose. 'Then, I'll leave Yamato at his desk in the lobby for you to pick up.'
'That would be much nicer of you than trying to rule my sex life like an overprotective mother of a thirteen-year-old.'
'I am you mother, you know,' Trish winked at him and left the room.
Her heels tocked on the wooden floor along the corridor and all the way to the lobby. Honey – the colour of the hair. The kind smile. Deceit. Pain and blood. He had never forgotten the way he started to serve Mundus, but now there was another thing Vergil understood. Dante got stronger having her at his side every day, Dante got enough courage and power to overcome what still haunted him, the death of their mother.
"I guess, that's the reason you never really dwell on it. It's in the past. The past…" Vergil looked at the shirts and ties and jeans in the wardrobe. They would look nice on Dante, but much better were suited for himself.
'It's me you are thinking of now, is that right?' Vergil smiled and turned around to glance at his brother. 'Moron.'
The yellow-paper package caught his eye and the older Sparda came to the antique desk to have a look at the address. There was his name on it, and by the signature he knew it was from the old lady he called earlier. She was true to her word, as she had been years before, and the delivery was on time. Timed perfectly, even, for he had to leave.
Vergil took the package and left Dante to rest, closed the door to the bedroom, and headed towards the staircase. The wood under his bare feet were foreign, the paneled walls seemed distant, the black jeans of Dante's had the strange feel of the alien thing that he wanted to be his, but never would really feel his own. Devil Never Cry was not his home anymore, now that he had the determination to leave Dante.
A place with no Dante was not home. This was where he was going to.
A place with Dante, who was in despair, was not home either. This was where he was going to leave his brother.
Vergil was homeless. Hopeless. Helpless.
The feel of Dante's skin and lips would be forever cut out in his memory, with time those memories would become his only place of solace – his home. But would he be alive to come back and relive it all? Would Dante be alive?
The heavy feeling of uneasiness that Vergil couldn't ignore sat awkwardly on his cold shoulders.
'Hay,' he heard Lady enter the agency, the door closed with a soft zing of the glass and a click of the lock. 'Anybody home?' she apparently asked Trish.
'Yeah.' He could feel the snicker in those words all the way to this floor. 'The princess is asleep, and the bitch is the watchdog.'
"Fuck off," Vergil thought, yet his sorrow was much more significant so his lips were pressed closed and he stayed frozen at the top stair, listening to the far voices of the women.
'Hah, are they fine?' Lady asked. She already knew what was important, so now her main goal was to sent Trish away.
'Mostly, why?' there was the sound of a page turning.
'See, there is this job, but I can't go. I have just returned from across the continent and I am so tired I'm falling down. If thy are fine, d'you mind taking it?' Vergil could tell Lady was feeling uneasy, however he didn't know why.
'Sure, is that the same place?' the newspaper fell to the billiard table and the ball clicked at the wooden wall.
'Yeah.' Lady was almost ashamed and the older Sparda could only guess what could have happened. After he decided to leave Dante behind once again, they all seemed no more than characters in a play, in a small separate world, something trivial and unimportant, something that had nothing to do with his horror of the future.
'Take care of the idiots,' the heels tocked to the door, it opened and closed. Vergil wished those heels would snap and she'd fall gracelessly right down. His wish was more of a thought to show himself how he didn't trust her than a true wish. Who cared about the stupid demon when he had to leave his brother with no notice yet again.
He could have written a letter. Last time Vergil tried to, he spent three sleepless nights, ended up restless and wordless.
He could have spoken to Dante. Last time he wanted to talk to Dante he stood like an idiot in front of the entrance to Devil Never Cry, hearing out his brother's pain, unable to say anything. Ended up being thrown away for the pain he caused Dante. If only he could tell Dante. One needed strength to show his emotions and Vergil didn't have that kind of strength. This was one thing he admired his younger twin for.
'Hate to lie,' Lady murmured and fixed her white striped jacket.
'Did you lie?' Vergil asked, walking into the lobby.
'Oh, you here,' the female demon hunter started. 'What if I did?' She lowered her dark glasses to look at the older Sparda over them.
Two differently coloured irises stared at him. 'You killed your father and are proud of it, you work as a demon hunter and say it out loud, you have different eyes and are absolutely not a typical female beauty, and even so you do not care, since you prefer guns for companions.' Vergil placed his package onto the desk near the old telephone and the dark blue case with golden cord where Yamato rested. 'What would you of all people need to lie for?'
'Hm,' Lady threw her glassed on the table, tousled her short black hair and sat down onto the couch, one hand on the back, legs crossed. 'I wanted to be alone with you?'
'Excuse me?' Vergil turned around and shot a questioning look at the demon hunter. She laughed, unbuttoned her jacket and let it fall down.
'I have it bad for bad boys?' Lady was sitting on the purple coach in her high red war shoes and the small garment that was her white striped shorts. Her long legs, slender arms and her breasts were now on the display for Vergil.
'I…' he was not really ashamed or confused or embarrassed. The older Sparda was surprised above all.
'Don't rush,' She said and pat on the place near her. 'Come here.'
'I don't desire you.' Vergil told her. It was after that time with the barman that he felt the need to tell her that.
'I don't care.' Lady laughed in his case. 'There is a male body, and a female body, what else there has to be? Come. I have wanted to do it for a very long time. Admired you for so many different things. For the way you follow your goal, for your attitude towards your fighting. Consider it a favour for me, if you want.'
'Fine,' Vergil came closer to her, but instead of sitting down, he took her hand and pulled Lady up into his embrace.
'Feels unexpected,' she palmed his naked chest.
"Dante didn't yesterday."
'May I?' Lady touched his cheek with her fingers – "Red-painted fingernails." – and stood on her toes to kiss him. The demon who had her in his arms answered, but it was bewildering, he was not passionate of cold, he didn't pay her much attention. The kiss was mechanic, like his mind was occupied by an important thought and his heart was not into it.
"Soft. Softer than that time. Warm. Submissive. Too easy. Predictable."
Suddenly, as if he had lost interest in the kiss, Vergil was pushing Lady roughly against the wall, her cheek rubbing uncomfortably against wood, her elbow hurting after it hit an edge of a bookshelf.
"Gunpowder and sweet spices," he was kissing her shoulder. Too much, too heavy for his sophisticated senses. The soft flesh in his hand was her breast. "Bigger than I expected… is it really as hard to have them as he told me…"
'You are hurting me!' Lady groaned as the demon squeezed her breast and pushed her shoulder and hip painfully into the hard shine surface of the wooden panel.
She moaned and groaned something. Vergil didn't care why.
'Stop!' Lady panicked, when her first complaint was not heard. 'I said stop it!' She shrieked and somehow pushed the demon back. 'Are you fucking crazy?' she panted heavily as he stared at her pointlessly. He was gorgeous and even more sexy than usual in only the jeans and with the messy hair, but he was somewhat absent-minded.
'What?' Vergil simply asked.
'What were you doing?'
'You said you didn't care…' the older Sparda twin shrugged.
'Bastard!' Lady slapped him hard.
Vergil closed his eyes and felt the sting. "What is the point of a lover with whom I can not be myself? Why can't I be rough when I want to be rough?"
'I'm gay,' he sighed and went to the couch to pick up Lady's jacket.
'The remnants of my dignity say I should leave very offended,' she barked at him, snatched the jacket from him, and stormed out.
'I should dress up,' Vergil told himself in the empty lobby. He tore the yellow wrap paper from the package on the desk.
The light blue long coat was perfectly identical to the one he had lost long ago. The shade, the white snake-like pattern on the right side, the golden cord.
Dante opened his eyes. The warmth was gone. So was Vergil. It was a bad sigh, always, so he jumped off the bed and went down, but was rooted to the floor to find his older brother in front of the agency door, clad in his old blue cloak, blue trousers and the high shoes. In Vergil's hand was Yamato, pretty much like when he had jumped off the damned cliff.
Vergil was faltering, or rather thinking something through. Even Dante knew Vergil did not falter. Just didn't.
'You wanted to go without me, right?' the devil hunter said bitterly.
The figure of his twin's jerked, and Dante saw how Vergil almost drew his sword out while turning around – a common reaction from the older Sparda on guard. There was vexation on Vergil's features, eyes were dark with annoyance and he chuckled darkly, as if it was a pity that he saw what he did. Dante's chest went cold.
Vergil's heart sank at the sight of Dante. So much for the secret departure. What was he going to say? And what was Dante going to say?
"Please, don't stay there silent. Yell, shout, start a fight, just say something…" Vergil prayed. He wanted to say no to the question, but it would be a lie. He would have tried to say yes, but couldn't bring himself to voice it. So Vergil stayed, looking at his younger twin in wordless admittance of his unjust action.
Dante got no answer. So for once, he tried to do everything the way he always wanted it to be. He stormed angrily to his older brother and pushed Vergil roughly outside.
The older Sparda stumbled but stayed straight, pushed outside of the agency. It reminded him of the last time he stood there speechless. That story had a bad end.
"Say something, and I promise you, I'll tell you how I feel. How I really feel."
But Dante lifted his head and there was a smile on his face.
"I can do it. I can say this to you, Verge."
'At least say goodbye this time, asshole,' Dante whispered softly.
There was only one word worth saying, so Vergil whispered back, 'Good bye, brother.'
Dante slammed the door shut in Vergil's face.
He didn't want Vergil to see him, when his pain became tearless. He turned around, still wearing nothing but that ridiculous thong, walked upstairs and right into the bathroom, locked the door behind him, got into the bath and coiled there into a nubbin.
...endo chap 26...
I know. I'm a bitch and all.
Gve me 10 reviews and know what happens next within 2 weeks.
(yeah if i get 10 reviews fast I kinda promise I'll update within 2 weeks from the 10th rev)
Next: somebody goes to the demon world. Guess 2 or 1? Nevan finds the shoes. Someone rides Geryon. Vergil's trial – how long will he survive without dante? The bets, ladies and gentlemen, the bets!
Love you all who stay with me.
Ethan.