...

Babbling

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Warnings: the usual, and see the title

Half Betad (Tora, Nim =*)

'Dialogue'

"Thoughts"

Dedicated to Fate_Eater and especially to KiKa (90% of the chap are yours, dear)

...

The last thing he could feel was the familiar heart beat and a pulse in his chest, the thin cord that was yet stronger than any tie, and Dante's voice that was screaming for him through the fog:

"Verge!"

...

By the time detective Steeve Larson managed to get to the Gate, the tall white-haired man was unconscious, in the arms of his twin, lying on the floor in the mess of tendons, blood and flesh; the suspect of the double murder, his twin, was drinking blood right from the open wound on his brother's chest. He then stopped and tightened the embrace, then cried. The suspect grabbed a random piece of bone from the side, tearing it out of the original body with inhuman strength and ripped open an artery on his neck and leaned down to his brother.

Detective Steeve Larson was too far to distinguish what exactly happened in the darkness of the underground hall.

By the time FBI got the crime scene both twins died. Cause of death: older one – stabbed through heart; younger one – blood loss and numerous internal bleeding.

Detective Steeve Larson was mentally unstable and was put into a psycho ward.

Okay, see the '…' before the sentence about Steeve? From there to here is not the text of the story, but my pms. So I delete it now from the previous chapter. Forget about it. I would have never killed them. Fuc, I worked 2 much on it to do that. So. Now I present those who survived till now:

Chap 29

Blood, sweat and tears

The tips of the thin lips crooked the tiniest bit into the smallest shade of a smile, and Dante knew it was Vergil. It was so Vergil, a thin line of understanding, razor-sharp and lightning-fast, clearing all the fog that clouded his mind, leaving the devil hunter with a solid knowledge: in front of him was his twin, with his heart stabbed – by no one else's hand but Dante's.

"Verge!"

His brother's body lost balance and started falling gracefully. Dante unconsciously caught it, Vergil's head resting in the angle of his elbow, his body relaxing in the devil hunter's arms, slender legs sliding along the slick stone floor.

'No!' Dante's palm pressed to his older twin's cheek, leaving black liquid fingerprints on pale skin, thumb brushing the lower lip. 'No-no-no-no-no!'

Vergil didn't move, didn't breathe. Something small burst within his body and a shimmering blue shockwave scattered around the underground hall. Small cyan lightnings, almost tangible, almost visible, were cracking over the older Sparda's body, and Dante felt as the power so familiar, the power of his father, started leaking from its vessel.

'Verge!' Dante shook the body aimlessly. Vergil was lying motionless in his beloved light blue coat with the unsymmetrical golden snaky pattern, fitting yellowish high shoes, in his usual blue pants and vest; even the scarf was in place, covering his throat. Useless things.

'Verge, Verge, please…' Dante muttered non-stop, but only the blood in the wound on his brother's chest gurgled.

"Blood!"

The cuts and holes Dante had in his stomach were too difficult to bring to his brother's mouth, so he glanced around in panic, looking for a weapon, but there was nothing sharp except for the crushed bones. Dante let his brother's head fall slightly lower on his arm, grabbed the nearest piece and slashed across the vein at the curve of his left elbow with all the force he could muster. The gash was big and ugly and painful, but the red thick blood spilled freely.

'Drink!' Dante threw his weapon away and pushed his twin's head to the wound so that Vergil's mouth would be facing the spilling hot liquid. 'Verge, can you hear me? Drink, I beg you, brother, you have to drink this!'

The tricklesreached Vergil's face and ran along his cool cheek. Dante pulled his brother further into the embrace, closer, and pressed his lips to the gash, prying his mouth open with his thumb.

"It's a pity, really," Vergil was most relaxed and soaring over the never ending sea of blood, under the black sky of the night Demon world. "It was never my intention to die this way, but oh well. It is even a little bit romantic, to die by the hand of my own brother. I have been in the same situation so many times, prepared to leave this world, at my brother's mercy. But I didn't mind, because if Dante beat me it just meant one thing – I was wrong somewhere. And now, how can rescuing him be wrong? I pay for something this way, and I know all too well what for. My retribution has come. Ironically, this time I don't want to leave him."

"Verge!" the hot red pull in his chest made the sky waver and the ocean of blood rippled.

"Calling for me. I don't want to leave him. I still have my regrets and – I haven't even touched him properly. Disappointing." Vergil closed his eyes and let the strong cord of their connection pull him out of the calm eternity.

Thrashing his body, all the forces of reality struck Vergil at the same time: his wound pulsed with pain, it was hard to breathe, he was drowning in the air and his every cell hurt as if it had been burnt. As if he had just been born.

It seemed like long hours when several seconds passed and Vergil lay motionless in Dante's arms. The devil hunter kept muttering his name, as if his twin would hear.

Dante almost jerked away in surprise as suddenly Vergil shivered, opened his mouth with long demon fangs instead of teeth and, grabbing the younger Sparda's arm, and dug into the open gash.

The devil hunter gasped and immediately let out a shaky exhale: he hadn't been so happy ever in his life before. Dante bent his knee, pushing his brother's body closer to his chest, helped Vergil turn onto his side and snaked his fingers into the older Sparda's white disheveled locks, getting a hold of a whole fist of hair and guiding Vergil as he sucked blood – and life – out of his vein.

Only one sensation was relieving, and it was the liquid life on Vergil's lips, crawling along his tongue and into his body, right to the heart, through his organs and tissues, reviving everything it touched. Vergil opened his mouth wider and drank in huge gulps, his lips and teeth squeezing the life out of the squishy flesh. He feasted on it, as it he was breathing for the first time, drinking for the first time, living for the first time.

Dante was looking at his twin, who was rhythmically sucking on his vein: a bite at the flesh, a suck of blood, tongue on the flesh, lapping, a new bite... it reminded Dante of sex. The feeling was as intimate as the first time he made love to woman.

Life was returning to Vergil and he noted that he was digging into flesh like a beast, with animal abandon and wilderness. He opened his eyes, relaxed his jaw and pushed away from the hurt delicate human body. It was an arm. Vergil turned his head: Dante's arm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," the older Sparda stretched his hand and put it on the top of his younger twin's head. Dante was beaming at him like crazy from under his palm. He was fine, and Vergil calmed down.

'Hey. I was lying here, thinking, that you might decide to unstuck the huge piece of bone from my heart, since I believe we both do not want me dead. And if you don't plan on dying today, too, you might want to drink from the wound in my chest.'

'Oh, sure, sorry,' Dante started to older Sparda's hand slid along his cheek, neck, past his bare chest, down.

Five digits dug into Vergil's wound, stretching the torn fabric of the vest and tearing the skin unpleasantly, the big ugly piece of hurt was tugged out and replaced by liquid and fleshy agony. Vergil shivered and bit his lip. Not loosing his composure was easier when he looked at Dante. Him, in front o Dante, screaming or writhing, was unthinkable, so he lay in his brother's embrace almost placidly.

'Do you mind stopping your silly smiling? I am afraid that this disease is rather contagious.' Vergil smirked through blood in his lungs.

'Shut the fuck up!' his younger twin smacked the back of Vergil's head with indignation.

Vergil stared.

'You seriously did that now?' before Dante could form a coherent excuse, the older Sparda laughed and grabbed him by the back of his neck. 'Come here.'

The devil hunter let the strong hand guide him down, to the dark hole in his brother's chest. The smell and taste shook Dante at the same time, his suddenly dry lips fell open and he put his tongue out to touch the dark warmth. Fresh snowy smell of Vergil's skin, rich smell of his blood, all-encompassing and never-ending enveloped him; the taste of the first small lick exploded in his mouth, hot, burning like ice burns the tender flesh. But the cold feel dissolved in a second and flourished in the devil hunter's mouth into a gentle metal warmth with a hardly tangible undertaste of sweetness.

Dante wanted more. Much more. He let his tongue out to lick at the open wound again. At the same time Vergil turned back to his arm and closed his mouth over the gash on his younger twin's arm, this time without biting with his fangs, just a soft suck to draw out blood; and the virus crawled from Dante into Vergil – the precious virus of life.

Sensations struck Dante thousand times harder than before. He drank blood from his older twin's chest, and it flowed its way into his soul rather than his body, making him aware of Vergil like he never ever was: hair, slightly damp from the humid air of the underground hall; pale face with the dark blood prints of the devil hunter's palm on the left cheek; long white eyelashes resting – eyes closed; rhythmically moving lips, sucking him; the light movements of Vergil's neck as he swallowed greedily; the relaxed shoulders and his hand over Dante's neck, fingers playing with strands of hair; the chest, rising unevenly, the shimmering pulse within the ribcage; the flat stomach; narrow hips; long legs slightly bent up, the only sign of impatience in how Vergil tugged them closer in an attempt to curl up but then let the heels of the shoes slide in a pool of blood and his legs almost lay back to the stone floor.

Dante closed his eyes, the hand on his neck moved to the back of his head, stroking the wrong way, combing through hair, and pushed him down, encouraging. Now, it was definitely perverted and intimate enough to count as sex.

"I am not sucking you cock, asshole, I am fucking feeding on you open heart." Dante would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't so into lashing Vergil's muscles with his tongue – in the literally unpleasant sense, not in the figuratively erotic one.

"Oh, I know," Vergil's voice replied in his head. "But it doesn't make it less erotic."

"Get out of my head, asshole," Dante grumbled back. He would have been more impressed with his brother's ability to intervene with his thoughts if several minutes ago he didn't think he'd killed the afore-mentioned brother.

The older Sparda snickered into the wound. The moment of crisis had passed, and Vergil was sure his younger twin knew this as well, so both of them were still drinking not to survive, but to patch up their physical wounds, and to stay connected – to patch as many wounds on their hearts as was possible.

Vergil finally licked for the last time along the thin line into which the gash on Dante's arm had turned and cleaned up the last drops of blood. He then shifted his body to settle comfortably on his twin's knees,wrapped in Dante's arms, and kept watching through the half-lidded eyes as his brother sucked blood from the almost closed wound on his heart.

The devil hunter's long white locks were in the way so Vergil combed them back with his hand, revealing the concentrated look, the closed eyes, the lips all covered in crimson and glistering, and a playful tongue tracing the slowly fading white lines of the wound.

Dante was too involved into gulping down the living liquid to care about his surroundings at first, so he realized with great surprise that his fingers had undone the vest oh his twin's chest and pushed it to his brother's sides to bare Vergil's pale chest and stomach. Now that Dante had slowed down and tore his lips off his brother's chest, he didn't know where to put his arms. He would have leaned onto Vergil but there was - skin. Everywhere else was uncomfortable or dirty. In the end, he had no choice and rested his right palm across his older twin's ribcage with hesitation. It made Vergil twitch and on his bare stomach the muscles became hard and evident under the tender skin. Dante could spend the whole day stroking just to look at how those muscles were working - relaxing into the curvy lines of the body then tensing into the hard armor.

"Would he freak out if I leaned down and licked it?" and he stared at Vergil's navel as he caught himself thinking that. "I'm so screwed – it must be the blood."

'Sated?' the older Sparda smirked. 'Then how about you make yourself useful and repeat it all slightly lower?'

Engulfed by the shock at his previous thought, Dante licked his lips, failing at cleaning them and only smearing the blood, and automatically looked lower, where Vergil's hand was directing him with a slight pull on his hair. Below was the flat stomach and the beltline of the dark blue trousers. Apparently, Vergil was excited.

Somehow, Dante's mind became crystal clear in a blink of an eye.

'I am not doing it.' The devil hunter looked back up at his older twin. 'No way in Hell.'

'Oh well,' Vergil made an indifferent face, swiftly put his arms round his brother's waist and turned him over. Dante suddenly was lying down, staring into the darkness, flat cold stone against his back. He must have been lying on a puddle of a blood, since it was wet and oily against his skin, but Dante ignored it easily when Vergil towered over him with an impenetrable expression, which had to mean there was something behind it to conceal.

'Verge?'

'Anyway,' the older Sparda leaned in, 'you will have to feed on me for several days.' Vergil kissed the small scars on Dante's stomach one by one, making the devil hunter shiver involuntary. 'You are human now, so you will have to heal properly. I will take some time.'

'Um. If you say so,' Dante put his hands onto his twin's shoulders and tried to push him away. 'Cut it out already. You've already overcome your dose of allowed inappropriate remarks and actions. Your quota is filled for today, so buzz off.'

Vergil raised his head and ignored his twin's words completely.

'You are wearing my old white jeans,' he noted out of the blue, and sat back, eyeing the sprawled Dante, then pushed his leg between his brother's. 'You shouldn't ruin the things that are not your own,' Vergil reprimanded, grieving at the blood stains, red and black. 'However,' he pushed his other leg between Dante's and pulled the devil hunter up by the shoulders to sit, the younger Sparda's arms around Vergil's neck, his legs bent slightly on either side of Vergil.

'…you should wear my clothes more often.' A hot whisper came into Dante's ear and the cool palms slid around his waist to the oily traces on his back. 'This way it feels you are one of my possessions.'

The devil hunter's face was burning, eyes wide. "You promised to leave all that shit behind!"

'Verge, bugger off-…!' he almost shrieked in disbelief, but his older brother cut him short with curt, quick words.

'I would have fucked you senseless but for this bloody environment.' Vergil panted, the chapped lips touching Dante's earlobe.

'Uh.' Dante stared at the red glow of the gate in the darkness of the hall. "What happened to 'I will behave like a brother'?" It was getting to him. Vergil was getting to him. Snaking under his skin in a nasty feeling of arousal. "How the fuck do you react to blurts like that?"

"You don't," Vergil's obliging voice chanted into Dante's confused mind. "You say: Yes, master."

"Get out of my head."The older Sparda's presence in his thoughts scared the devil hunter, as he couldn't make out how much of what he was thinking or feeling was clear to his brother.

'Dante,' Vergil called, raising his arms from Dante's waist up to thumb his ribs. 'Give in,' he pulled back and rested his forehead against his brother's. 'I want you at least to touch me now.'

'Em,' the devil hunter looked into his twin's shiny azure eyes and regretted it immediately as the eye-contact made him even more uncomfortable and even more embarrassed. 'I don't think I can.'

Dante was never the one to pass he'd rather have than not have; that included Vergil; 3. something that promised good time. But there were certain issues against it.

'Oh.' The older Sparda's lips formed a perfect 'o' and froze in the shape, a symbol of perplexity and indignation at same time. Dante inhaled and exhaled slowly. The perfect 'o' begged to be outlined by his tongue. Oh, there definitely were certain issues for.

'I mean, this is not exactly how…' the devil hunter stumbled through the words. 'I, kinda, this is a first…' he just couldn't bring himself to say that out loud so instead Dante tried to appeal to the awkwardness of the circumstances. 'I mean, we are still here, in the middle of an underground hall filled with corpses, if you have somehow forgotten?' He locked his fingers behind Vergil's neck and looked around, verifying his own words. With the amount of charisma his older twin was radiating he himself was slightly surprised that he still remembered where and who he was.

'What does it matter? Maybe I find it nothing if not arousing to have you within my grasp amidst the evidence of your power.' The lips twisted into a snicker and in a swift motion the tongue moistened them. The arms got hold of Dante's hips and pulled them close enough for him to be connected to Vergil, Dante's inner thigh to the older Sparda's waist and the white jeans right against the dark blue fabric of Vergil's trousers. 'Now, I want you to touch me.' The wet lips enchanted.

Dante almost gave in to them and almost closed the distance, but stopped, panted, and shut his eyes.

"I mean, he sure as hell says all the embarrassing stuff. He doest it either just to get to me or he really means it. Either way, it's a fucking lose-lose situation, it's Vergil for fuck's sake and my bloody brother always gets what he wants. So the question is, what if I screw up somewhere in the middle? What if I do something wrong this time? I always screw up, right? Especially if we talk about Vergil…"

Arousal of the demon blood he had drank was heavy in Dante's veins, and he knew perfectly well it was unnatural and absolutely due to the chemical reaction. The sane part of Dante's brain, if there was such, knew he had to say 'Go fuck yourself sick bastard!', punch Vergil hard in the face and make a scene. But the memory of his belief in Vergil's death didn't allow him to go through with the plan.

'What's wrong?' the older Sparda asked softly. 'You are thinking too much.' He kissed Dante's frown. 'Cut it out, thinking does not suit you.'

"Oh, now you go seriously for it. Fuck you Verge, it's not freaking fair, gimme a break. What if we start this shit and at some point I change your mind and you leave?" the devil hunter tightened his grip around the older Sparda's neck for a second, bringing their bodies close enough to feel the beating of the other's heart through the connected skin, then pushed back.

'I just can't.' Dante gave his brother an apologetic look.

'Why not? It's not like you haven't seen or touched me before.' The older Sparda remained emotionless, but deep inside he took the offence badly and treated it as deadly insult.

'But!-…' "I'll kill him later for the embarrassment of saying this." 'It is the first time you know it is me.'

Vergil paused and tried to comprehend. He still didn't recognize the argument as a weighty one.

'I remember all our previous encounters, if you are unaware.' The older Sparda explained and tried to catch his brother's glance, to no avail. Dante was avoiding his gaze.

'Yeah but you wouldn't have killed me if I screwed up then.' His younger twin said quietly.

'Do not think about such things,' Vergil failed to suppress a smile. 'Right now I wouldn't care as long as you touch me. And even if you fail miserably I still will cum because I want all of you right now, the failure that you are included.'

"I am above frying his ass for such a low-class insult. I am above it. I truly am.

On the other hand…" Dante looked down to his blood-stained jeans. Even now he remembered what the dry thin fingers of the rat felt like.

'I might need some new experience, though…' the devil hunter shuddered involuntarily at the memory. 'For the sake of forgetting the previous one.'

'Was it that bad?' Vergil raised an eyebrow. Surely their last encounter was not that terrible. Of course, his heart was not into it, since the older Sparda was convinced the girl in his arms was just a girl, but still. The way Dante put his long leg in a black stiletto shoe against his chest was crystal clear in Vergil's mind, as well as the low hoarse voice that said 'Fuck me Vergil. Now.' Dante meant it then, every single word, the older Sparda could swear. Sex couldn't have been so bad, could it?

'Yeah, it was one of the worst things I ever had to go through,' Dante sighed in a graveyard voice, still looking down. The importunate thoughts of the rat incident sent cold shivers down his back and arms.

'Oh.' The older Sparda fell silent. His brother's face was serious and the trembling Vergil could feel under his twin's skin was real. It was no joke and no caustic remark. The older Sparda rarely had to face his mistakes or failures and he didn't know what to say, so he bit his lip nervously and whispered an apology to Dante: 'I didn't know…' Vergil was lost and ashamed; he combed his twin's stubborn white hair back from his forehead with care. 'I am sorry. We should stop then…'

Vergil's arms slid away and suddenly uncoiled Dante's embrace from around his twin's neck. The older Sparda carefully lifted his brother up and seated the devil hunter onto a stone, farther from himself.

'You don't want me anymore?' Dante looked up, speaking his mind without thinking.

Vergil stared. Apparently, his idiot of a brother had a simple and innocent thought in mind, but it did not make up enough of an excuse for how those words sounded.

'Of course I do want you, moron,' The older Sparda grumbled, from the bottom of his heart he hated having to deal with Dante's kid-mode. 'But… Look, I regret not realizing I hurt you the last time. Forgive me if you can. And if something like that happens again, tell me. Don't be silent…'

'Um.' The devil hunter settled on the stone as comfortable as he could, the stone being slick and cold, his legs hurting like hell and his whole body aching all over. He frowned, then squinted at his older twin. 'What exactly are you talking about?'

'About your last experience…' Vergil answered, taken slightly aback.

'I wasn't you, you self-centered jerk!' Dante laughed. 'Now give me your shoulder my head is lead heavy and splitting apart. I need something to lean onto.' And without any warning he let his body fall forward right into the older Sparda, who despite the surprise caught him almost gracefully.

'Who was that?' Vergil's calm even voice asked, that voice which made him so intimidating sometimes.

'Oh, I killed it already.' Dante mumbled into the blue leather on Vergil's shoulder. His own voice now seemed too loud, so he whispered: 'But it was one hell of a disturbing shit.'

'What happened?'

'Don't worry, nothing much.' The devil hunter his a chuckle. "Nah, no way I am going to tell you I thought it was you. Your ego is vast enough as it is, so I am not feeding it." 'But I would kill to have some normal human body beside me right now.'

'I see.' Vergil thoughtfully drawled. 'Do you want me to call Lady?'

'Why the fuck?' Dante sat up and looked at his twin in confusion.

'She is the only human I know,' was Vergil's concise answer.

'I was speaking of you.'

'Oh.'

And the conversation suddenly hit a dead-end. For about a minute they sat still, Vergil studying his brother's expression, Dante studying his brother's neck-chest-stomach-bad-idea.

'Just going for it would definitely stop your inner turmoil, since you act before thinking anyway.' The older Sparda suggested nonchalantly.

Dante's tolerance to naked pick-up lines burst like a nuclear bomb, so he grabbed the stand-up collar of the older Sparda's blue leather coat and shouted at the top of his lungs:

'Will you stop it already? Can't you do it one at a time – insult, comfort or try to seduce me? Chose one fucking option and stop driving me nuts!'

'Yeah, that's more like my brother.' Vergil smirked and calmly ruffled up fuming Dante's hair. 'I understand the past 24 hours were hard for you, sex with me in your female form, the changes and the aftershock of going to Hell, the fear when you became human… but Dante, you definitely have to stop being so sappy. It's not like you. Just look around, even as a human you cleared up the bloody hall around the Gate. You are strong, get it into your head, and bring my brother back out.'

'I'm kickass, I know,' the devil hunter smacked his twin's hand away angrily. 'But as a human I almost died getting here. And hearing the word strong coming out of your full-devil mouth sounds more like an offence.'

'Just stop babbling.' Vergil was irritated, but didn't mean it really. 'You are the only one who recovers no matter how many times I break you. You are the freaking strongest person I have ever met. So shut up and be yourself.' By his relaxed posture, the smug thin line of his lips and the playful glint in his eyes, Vergil was definitely having fun, though Dante couldn't make out why exactly.

The real reason for his older twin's good mood was really the way it felt to be lecturing Dante. It was like they were again five years old and Vergil had to teach Dante something so obvious that his head hurt trying to explain and answer all the stupid objections. This time, surprisingly, Vergil had to prove to Dante that Dante was fine. Which was hard to do when Dante was being panicky self-torturing moron.

'Doubting and thinking were never your fortes. So don't.' Vergil poked his younger brother's forehead, earning a grunt and glare-daggers. 'Whatever comes in our way we are going to live through it, you hear me? And if I ever fail you and leave you like I did earlier today, don't go moping. Seriously. Just follow me and do what you always do when I am being an ass – punch me in the face.'

'O-kay.' Dante suddenly agreed and Vergil deducted something in his speech must have finally worked. And he knew exactly what when with a loud – slap! – of the younger Sparda's hand his head spun to the side. It was numb for a moment and then his cheek was stinging as hell.

'That was so-o-o-o...' Vergil's half-smacked face distorted in the nastiest smirk ever as he was tasting the next word on his tongue: '…bitchy.'

'Now you are asking for it.' Dante stated with a blank face and this time formed a proper fist. Vergil's cheek became numb again, then hot, and he thought that maybe something cold was due. After all, how often had the katana master been punched in the face? Not that he could remember even once, since he was seven. And if Dante was pretty much used to bruises thanks to his own dexterity and grace, Vergil did not much appreciate the painful ugly marks, especially not on his face.

'Whatever,' Dante winced at the pain in his knuckles and gave up thinking about any more punching: his body was already at its limit and, maybe, past it; even breathing was hard. He had to decide what to do next. 'So,' slightly wobbling, the devil hunter managed to stand up. 'Are we going to the Demon world?'

The Gate was right there, the border between the worlds was fragile, and Vergil was a demon, who could pass it easily.

'Forget it,' the older Sparda stood up as well, right in time to catch Dante who slipped on something squishy and slick on the floor – he didn't really want to look down to know what exactly it was.

'Why? Weren't you going there? Wasn't it the point of all the suffering?' Dante asked, his face flat against his brother's chest, his body hanging helplessly on Vergil's arms lie a cloth doll.

'The point of going to the Demon world was to kick some bosses' asses. And you,' the older Sparda easily tossed his brother up and had Dante seated on his clasped hands, limbs down on either side of the older twin and face now right in front of Vergil's. 'You are rendered completely and utterly powerless and useless.'

'Wu?-' Dante's jaw fell open in complete outrage. He would have started a fight if having somebody else move his body weight wasn't so nice. 'What happened to you-are-strong speeches, you cock-hungry lecherous jerkass?'

'Heh,' The older Sparda was looking the raging Dante right in the eye, which was close enough for him to see every single while eyelash, and the helplessness of his younger twin made him want to beam at everything in the world, bitches like Nevan included. Vergil was basking in it, feeling it in every single cell of his body, how Dante wanted a fight, and had to just stick to oral insults. It was a grand feeling. He couldn't feel better even if someone gave him the crown of the demon world, because for every single time that Dante was in absolute defeat, he had worked long and hard, and the less little slips he allowed, the greater was the impact. Now, the impact was good.

'Don't you heh me you fucker! Now you are saying it's my fault? Go fuck yourself you egoistic vein dickhead!'

"Music," Vergil glanced at the Gate for the last time, it's blood-red figure so impassive to anything that goes around, to the corpses on the floor, the their feelings, and headed towards the father end of the hall. Somewhere in the underground galleries there were exits to every corner of the city. He just had to find one close to the agency.

'Where the hell do you think you are taking me you smugface?' Dante roared into his ear rather loud – enough to make small stones rattle down from somewhere in the dark where the ceiling was supposed to be and probably loud enough for Vergil to become deaf for a second or two - but Vergil ignored him. He was especially good at ignoring when he was satisfied with himself. Moreover ignoring Dante just furthermore inflamed the younger Sparda's fury, thus making the older twin's day even more pleasant.

"I will consider it revenge for fucking up with me – and not fucking me." As the thought made its way through Vergil's twisted mind, he noted with a great portion of content that something hard and hot was pushed against his groin. "Oh, he can blabber whatever shit he can spout, how everything is wrong and how he can't so it, I am so not buying it today."

'Verge, stop! I say stop!' Dante rose his head from his brother's shoulder and informed his twin with a pout: 'You have to go back anyway. There is something I forgot there near the room where I was kept. And I am not leaving without it.'

For a moment the older Sparda wanted to complain and come up with some spiteful remark. But his day was good enough already: he got Dante back on his hands, there was no need to go to the Demon world right away and there was no need to go there alone. As an additional bonus he would have three whole days to torture Dante by house arrest and bed regime, by reminding him constantly of being helpless and human and even maybe by making him drink medicine just for the sake of torture itself.

Vergil was too lazy to do it, but it was inevitable, so he turned around and went, stumbling in darkness to the passage that lead back to the ward. Clueless Dante was satisfied with that and smacked his head back into the crook of his older twin's neck. It was becoming a habit of his, not that Vergil minded.

Dante sighed heavily, but said nothing.

The older Sparda glance at him, tightened his grip on the tired body, and continued to rummage through demon remains on his way to the exit.

Dante sighed again, slowly and heavily.

When he sighed the third time, Vergil rolled his eyes: 'What is it now?'

'Oh, nothing,' Dante mumbled into his twin's coat and his hair tickled Vergils' neck.

'Do you want me to let your sorry ass fall down into this nice puddle of blood and flesh?' the older Sparda asked in the niciest of voices.

'Um,' Dante lifted his chin to look over his brother' shoulder at the puddle. It was definitely the worst decision since without the rush of adrenalin it looked rather vomit-inspiring. 'I was just thinking of how to deal with, um, this little problem.'

'Hah,' another smug smirk broke loose. 'This is what you get for not doing what your older brother tells you.'

'What do I get?' Dante asked innocently. Or maybe he was just emptied after the day, of he was just dumb.

'…' "Divine retribution."

'… you asshole you were all over me there, and you are not even hard?' Dante realized there was nothing to accuse Vergil back. He sat upright fast and even spent his last energy to grab his twin's collar and pull his face dangerously close. 'What is the meaning of this?' he hissed.

"So many teasing lines, so little choice if I ever want to have a decent conversation with him again. My life is a tragedy in its every minute."

'Unlike you poor little broken human, I can control mu body rather well, even when I am excited.'

Vergil noticed a human in bloodied clothes leaning onto the stone wall.

The blonde detective was smoking a cigarette, probably the last one he had, holding it with trembling fingers, and eyeing two suspicious men. They looked alike. One was standing tall, in long blue coat, holding the other, dressed in dirty jeans and barefoot, in his arms. Both were covered profoundly in black stains which were undoubtedly the blood of demons. And he would have believed them to be real if when they approached they hadn't been discussing…

'You mean you can will a bloody erection away? Now that is fucking cheating!'

...endo chap 29...

You just have to drop me a line now, ok?

Push the fucking 'review' button

PUSH IT PUSH IT PUSH IT

Ethan.

….push it…

i can see how many of you are there you bastards, i have statistics! It's killing me!

i know you read it and i dont know what you think! Do you want my head to explode?

push the fuckin button!