Author's Note: A friend and I wereworking on this but she's now gone MIA and faded off since she doesn't have time anymore to help me I took over. So if you noticed a change in words and paragraphs, you know why. This part of DMC is based on Beauty and the Beast but in my own way.

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry or the twins. Hell if I did, I would've already announced DMC6 with Sparda as the main character or Nero. I just own Christine and Adrian. Along with any OC's that appear in the story.


It was quiet as the wheels turned down the gravel road. Well, mostly quiet, the stuff tied down in the bed of the truck shifting as the back wheel dipped low. The frame shook and two hands shot forward to grip the dashboard, a cloud of white drifting from painted lips.

"Careful!" she hissed.

"Sorry."

Her eyes narrowed on her brother, his hands on the wheel as he drove a little more carefully around the bend.

"Remind me again, why we're doing this?"

"Christine, I already told you I have an interview," he said.

"Yes, I already know you have an interview," she said shortly. "Why are we already moving out here when you don't even have the job yet, Adrian?"

Adrian sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, his bangs brushing back against his forehead. He needed a haircut, something he hadn't done in a couple of months. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he could see the road behind them. The ground was covered in snow still, even though winter should have been nearing its end. Perhaps this new place was more prone to the cold, but he couldn't be sure.

"Look, I'm guaranteed the job, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," she nodded.

"Chris, the interview is just a formality, okay? I'd have to do it regardless," he said, trying to explain. "Reis recommended me."

"Oh, sure," she rolled her eyes. "Everyone follows Reis."

"Hey, he's a good friend," he argued.

Letting out a breath of air, Christine crossed her arms, shoving her hands beneath her armpits for warmth.

"Every time Reis is involved, you land yourself in trouble! What is it this time? Huh?"

She was trying not to yell, her nerves already on edge.

"On the side contracting work? Reused vacuums? Maybe scooped up cars?"

"Chris, would you stop it already?" Adrian snapped.

His hand slammed down on the center console, and she jumped, her back pressing against the door, and her hands curling in front of her. Opening his mouth, he froze, brows furrowing as he tried to find the words that he needed.

"Christine, I…"

Before he could manage anything more, the engine gave a jerk and a sputter. A loud pop followed and then a line of smoke trailed from beneath the hood. The two hadn't even registered the curse that came from Adrian's lips as the truck suddenly died, coming to a rolling stop. Within seconds, the driver's side door swung open, the brunette's foot kicking it shut as he hurried forward.

"Shit!"

He drew his hand back as the metal burned him, gripping his shirt as he used it as a glove to pop the hood up, smoke exploding in his face. Coughing, Adrian waved a hand in front of him, covering his eyes. With all the smoke, he couldn't see anything. With another cough, he moved to the other side of the car, pulling the door open despite his sister's protests. From the glove box, he pulled out a flashlight. He was quick to close it back, slamming the door shut in frustration.

"Careful!" she snapped.

From her seat, Christine watched quietly at that point, eyes full of mirth. She'd lost track of the number of times she'd told him that this truck was a piece of shit. He was always fixing something on it. Always without fail. Only this time, they may be stuck, if the sound she'd heard was any indication. With his luck, something probably exploded or melted. Although it was hard to imagine something melting in this cold. Then as if some unknown force had read her mind, Adrian let out another yelled, and his boot met the front bumper.

"It's melted!" he cried. "The stupid freakin' wire is melted!"

With a sigh, Christine drew her hands in front of her, breathing into them for warmth. She rubbed them together, exhaling a few more times. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of her brother, her door opening before the contents of the glove box practically fell into her lap.

"Adrian!" she screeched, nearly kneeing him in the face.

She shoved her hand against his face, watching him stumble. With a scowl she hopped out of the truck, easily moving a few feet away from him. If she didn't, she'd probably end up punching him in the face instead of using her knee.

She saw her brother glaring at her while rubbing his face. He went back to the glove box, searching for an item.

"Damn, where are the pliers?"

"Did you try the toolbox in the truck bed?" she asked sharply, shivering slightly as she hugged herself.

First, the heat had gone out about an hour ago, now this. He really should have just gotten rid of the truck instead of constantly pushing his luck. He never wanted to listen though. Never.

She watched as he paused for a moment. Before closing the glove box and he tossed his sister's cropped jacket to her, something he couldn't understand why she found it 'cute' as she put it.

Grunting, she slipped it on, arms still wrapped securely around her middle. With each breath came a cloud of white, her hair swept behind her, keeping the back of her neck warm. She couldn't understand why it had to be so damned cold. It had never been this cold in Huntsville. In fact, given where they'd been, it normally didn't even snow. The white powder in question coated her heeled boots, the leather the only thing keeping out the biting cold.

Adrian had walked from the passenger side to the back of his truck and pulled himself up slightly and started to ransack his toolbox looking for the pillars.

"I swear, I just fixed the piece of shit," he swore.

"Well, not good enough apparently," Christine pointed out.

"Would you just shut up?" he grumbled, finding the pliers at the bottom of the box.

It was beneath the pile of wrenches, quickly hopping back down as he made his way to the front. With any luck, he'd be able to strip part of the wire and salvage it. Although, that seemed to be all he ever did with this truck. It was fixed this, tape that, replace a screw here, a wire there. It was like trying to hold a pipe together with Duct Tape.

It was like he didn't want to get rid of the truck at all. It was the only means of transport for him and his sister.

"Are you done yet?" Christine asked impatiently, pacing as she tried to keep warm.

Neither of them really had clothes appropriate for this kind of weather.

"You can always get back in the car," Adrian said, scraping what he could of the melted wire as a means of cleaning the contact.

It wasn't doing him much good though and he didn't know if he'd be able to make a proper connection with his limited tools. Stripping it down the rest of the way he undid one of the bolts, wiping it on his pant leg before twisting the new section of wire in place. Once that was done, the bolt went back on.

Staring impatiently still, Christine watched as he climbed back into his seat, making to turn the engine back over. It made a few clicks and died, so he tried again, then again. She watched tiredly as he tried a dozen times, taking it as if that would coax it to life. His words fell on deaf ears though and the engine went silent.

"I knew you should have gotten rid of this truck weeks ago!" Christine exclaimed.

She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her pants, hopefully, to warm them up.

"We're just going to have to push it," he finally said.

"Wait, what?" She questioned.

She wasn't sure if she heard him right. Did he say push? She doesn't have the strength or the proper footwear to be pushing a vehicle.

"You've got to be kidding me?" she gapped.

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p' as he closed the hood of the car. "If we're lucky, we might be able to make it somewhere before dark. By then, the temperature is gonna drop even further."

Swearing, she pulled her now warm hands out of her pants pockets and walked to where her brother wanted her to be.

"Besides, we really shouldn't be that far from town," he said.

"I swear, I'm gonna kill you," she grumbled, hands gripping the top of the tailgate.

"Look, if we can get it on a downgrade we can let it coast," he said, trying and failing to make her feel any better about their current situation.

She just went on grumbling about the whole mess. If he would've taken it to a pro, got it fixed up and detailed. They wouldn't be in this mess. But no. For some reason or another, Adrian wanted to keep old reliable.

He was pathetic. Downright pathetic. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to consider it a vehicle anymore. It's not like anything worked in it. The heating coil was finally burnt out, and the filter for the AC went out over a year ago, now who knows what's wrong with it? She was surprised it hadn't just

She also remembered he had to put new brake pads on the truck for the 10th time this year already. She really wanted to know why he loved it so much. If it was her, she would've just taken it to a pro, fixed it and detailed it, and traded it in for a brand spanking new truck.

Before she realized it, the sun had started descending in the sky, the light shrinking as their shadows grew darker.

"How much longer," she groaned, her feet slipping as she tried to keep her hold.

The cold was finally seeping into her boots, toes damp from snow. She was freezing, her hair slightly matted from the couple of times she'd fallen in the snow. She could practically hear the tremor in her voice at this point.

"Just over this hill, we should come up to a town." She heard him say.

She wasn't sure if it was positive. She knew he was terrible with directions. He even got them lost at one point and refused to ask for directions saying he knows where he's at.

"Adrian, I'm g-gonna m-murder you," she stammered, fingers numb as she pushed forward, the sun on her head the only thing left giving her warmth.

She was pretty sure her lips were already blue beneath what was left of the lipstick she'd applied earlier that day. The only purpose really was to keep them from cracking, the skin painful.

"A-alright, alright," he started, "s-sue me!"

From what she could tell, he was freezing just as bad as she was. And all he had was a jacket on, not a winter jacket just an average jacket.

Silently, she made a mental note to buy some proper clothing when she got the chance, gasping once they finally made it to the top of the hill. She felt her heart drop as she stared. There was no town in the immediate area, only a fast array of trees. Trees and a tower. A tower?

What was the tower there for? There was no way, it could be a cell phone tower. It didn't look like one at all. And to think, they're out in the country.

"What do you think that is?" she asked, breathing in a lung full of frozen air before coughing, her breath catching painfully.

Seeing what his sister was looking at, he looked at the tower himself, "I'm not sure..." his voice trailed off.

Adrian knew for a fact that he's never seen that kind of tower before as long as he's been alive.

"It looks like it's made of stone," he said quietly.

She nodded her head; Christine wasn't sure herself either. For all, she knew it could just be one big stone shaped like a tower.

"Well, hop in," Adrian said, a grin spreading over his lips.

She looked at her brother like he was crazy. He must have grown another head. There was no heat in the truck, and it's dead so why are they both getting in?

He could help but laugh at the look on her face. It was priceless.

"We're gonna coast down," he explained, the truck still sitting in neutral. "It'll be a piece of cake."

From the look on her face, she was skeptical. She was very unsure; she knew her brother well. Usually when he says a piece of cake. Something always goes wrong. Like their old apartment. He fixed the water pipe saying a piece of cake. And something else went wrong.

"You're going to be the death of me," she told him, hesitantly climbing into the truck.

With shaky hands, she clicked her seatbelt into place, unwilling to take any chances.

She always remembered her own mother telling her to buckle up. It didn't matter if she was in the backseat or the front. She always told her to buckle up.

Closing her eyes, she felt the truck shift, Adrian giving it that last little push before jumping in himself. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, another shiver running through her as the cold set in, the chill of the seats just as unforgiving as the air outside.

Her fingers reached down under her seat and gripped the seat tight. She was starting to have a gut feeling. Telling her, that this was a very bad idea.

"A-Adrian, I think w-we're going too f-fast!" she stammered, her back braced against the seat as she felt the truck shake.

"We're fine," he assured out, tapping on the brakes.

There was only one problem. They weren't gripping hard enough, the sound of metal-on-metal sounding, the truck moving far too fast for the shotty brakes to compensate.

"Oh shit," she heard from him.

She knew when he said that. It means that's not good. Not good at all!

She braced herself as the truck went through a bush near the bottom of the hill, flattening it like a pancake. She let out a shriek as her hand shot forward, pointing.

"Adrian! Tree!"

"I see it!" He shouted trying to turn the wheel.

However, it was like everything was against them as he struggled to turn it.

There was no traction as the truck slid over the snow, tires squealing before the crunching of metal hit the air, along with the sound of a window shattering.

Feeling like someone was taking a couple of hammers and beating her on both sides of the skull, Christine let out a groan as she opened her eyes.

Her vision swam, gasping as she jolted forward before wincing. She ducked her hand between her legs, her hand brushing a wet spot. Frowning, she pulled her hand back, a vision of red meeting her senses. Blood was trickling from a cut on her forward, the liquid clouding one of her eyes as she tried to wipe it away. Despite it all, she knew that head wounds always bled the worst, no matter how bad they were.

"Damn it..."

Hearing a groan beside her, she turned her head to see her brother moving his head against the steering wheel.

"Adrian?" she groaned, slowly reaching a hand forward.

She could already feel the stiffness in her body, muscles seizing through her back. She didn't think anything was broken, but it was hard to tell. The ringing in her ears was the disorienting part, vision swimming as she stilled herself.

"I... I'm fine..." Adrian managed after a couple of minutes.

She eventually felt a hand on hers, grip tightening as if reassuring her.

Tilting her head to the side, she winced. Her head hurt and the blood rolling down into her eye hurt, leaving her jacket stained as she tried to wipe part of it away. Trying to blink it away wasn't helping either.

"Can you move around?" Her brother asked.

She could hear movement beside her.

Vaguely, she was aware of him moving in his seat. Letting out a breath of air, she gripped the seat belt, trying to unhook it. It had her pinned to the seat and it wouldn't budge, her heart pounding as she started to panic. An arm shot out and she pressed at the door, tears falling.

"Hey, just calm down," Adrian said gently, pulling at the belt.

It didn't budge for him either, the door caved in slightly at her side.

"I'm gonna get you out of here," he promised.

Reaching to his boot, he pulled out the pocket switch he kept hidden. Crawling toward his sister, he started to cut at the seat belt, that was keeping her pinned.

"Just look at me, alright?"

He was trying to keep her attention on something else. She didn't like not being able to move, her mobility was limited as she sat there. The last time she was in such a position, it was a nightmare. He was an idiot, thinking that any of this had been a good idea, something tugged at his heart. He'd promised to keep her safe. He'd made her a promise.

Not only did he make a promise to his sister, but also to their deceased parents as well. They lost their mother and father, and Adrian refused to lose his precious sister as well. In his book, he'd do anything to keep her safe.

"Just breath, Chris," he said, one hand on her thigh, the other working to slice her free.

She nodded her head lightly, listening to his words as he spoke, he always knew how to calm her down.

"Alright, just hold still..."

He flipped the blade closed, hand curling around the belt. He gave it a tug, jerking it to the side, most of it frayed. With one final pull, it snapped, sending him back a few inches. Panting, he looked her over, brushing a hand over her cheek. Pulling a rag from his pocket, he pressed it to her forehead in an attempt to stop the steam of blood flowing.

A whimper escaped her full lips as he pressed the rag to her forehead, all she wanted was to wake up and find all this a nightmare and she was still in bed. Unfortunately, she knew it was all too real to be a nightmare.

For a moment, her mind went back to the last time she'd been stuck, eyes closed as she tried to calm her breathing. She'd been pinned, the door nearly crushing her arm and leg. She remembered the blood and the tears, the glass littering the floor at her feet. The image of his slumped form made her cringe and she cried.

He never wanted to see her like that, he loved his sister far too much to see her harmed or worse.

"Chris, it's alright. You're fine," he said, cupping her face between his hands. "You're fine."

Nodding her head, she closed her eyes and listened to him speak.

"Now, give me your hand," he said, releasing her from his hold.

He'd have to pull her out over the center console and through his side, the snow had caused the truck to slide sideways into a tree.

Taking a hold of his hand, she allowed him to gently pull her out of the truck.

Once they were out, Adrian was finally able to see the damage, his face falling. The mirror was gone on the passenger side, the door crushed. The manual window was shattered, likely the reason for the cut on Christine's forehead. The windshield was cracked as well, a line snaking its way through the glass and spreading like roots. He couldn't bring himself to look at the front of it. In the back, a few of their things had slid free, and the small wooden table he'd tied down now spluttered in pieces. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he kept his other arm around his sister's waist.

"Damn it..."

The truck was totaled.

He knew then and there that he should have listened to his sister and gotten rid of the truck when he had the chance.

Letting go of Christine, he walked over to the back and reached in, and pulled out their packs, tossing them over his shoulder. If they were lucky, maybe they'd find shelter at that tower for the night.

"Where are we going to stay?" She asked.

She watched as he also pulled out the first aid. She figured the reason he did that was so he could make sure she wasn't seriously hurt or perhaps bandage her forehead.

Walking beside him, she stayed close to him, not leaving his side.

"We're gonna see if we can't make it to that tower," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

He rubbed her arm, trying to get a bit of friction going. Her face already looked flushed, and her lip had bled.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against his chest searching for warmth. In her mind, she prayed that close to the tower, there would be someplace with heat.

Although given their luck recently, she doubted it. Shivering, she rubbed at her arms, a cough breaking free from her lips. Her throat felt dry and her limbs heavy.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

Christine tried not to roll her eyes as he said this, remaining quiet as they walked. If he wasn't so stubborn, they wouldn't have to worry about stuff like this.

Sighing to herself, she felt him rub his hand up and down her arm.

"It's freezing out," she stammered, feet faltering as she caught something in the snow.

"I know, I'm cold too." He said holding her close to him.

"We'll be there before you know it, sis."

She nodded her head, hoping to believe his words this time.

The closer they got, the colder it grew, snow starting to fall from the sky. Christine let out a cough, cringing as her chest seized.

She felt him pull her closer to him.

"Why is it so cold?" He asked.

"I can't feel my face," she breathed out, shoulders quacking.

"Looks like we have to cut through the woods here." He spoke.

He was starting to think how far the tower was from the truck.

They'd been walking for a bit and the snow just kept getting worse. Somehow, they were walking right into a storm, his arm out in an attempt to cover his eyes.

"I... I think I see it!" he cried out, ushering his sister forward. "Come on!"

Taking a hold of his hand, she followed her brother into the storm.

"Keep your head down!"

All she could do was comply as they trudged forward, hand over her face as snow clouded her vision forward.

"Don't let go of my hand!"

Listening to him, she tightened her grip on his hand the best she could do. She was afraid that she would lose sight of him if she let go.

With a shiver, Adrian pulled her up the path, his bangs flitting about. He was nearly knocked over by a gust of wind, the air tearing at his skin. Swallowing, he pulled her closer, shoving her toward the front doors. Her hands shot out, gripping the rotten iron handles feebly, chains looped through them.

"Adrian!" she cried, pulling at the handles.

The doors broke open, but barely as the chains creaked against the bellowing wind.

Feeling her brother against her back, she saw his hands come around her.

She felt him pull against her, the muscles in his arms clenching. Pressing a foot to one of the doors he grunted, hands gripping the handle of the other one. There was a creek and the metal shifted, the doors opening just enough.

"Go!"

Quickly, she ducked under the chains. She went sideways, squeezing through the opening and inside.

She watched as he managed to squeeze inside himself before allowing the door to close behind him. Feeling a tingle run down her spine, she shivered.

It was worse inside than it was outside! But as she saw it, they had a roof over their heads until morning.

"C-come on," Adrian stammered, wrapping his arm around her. "There's gotta be a fireplace somewhere. Maybe some blankets."

She nodded her head, following him around. She was starting to get a feeling that they don't belong there and that they should leave.

"Bingo!"

Christine shivered as he moved away from her toward the far end of what could only be explained as something grand. In the middle of the room was a large wooden table, goblets scattered atop the withering cloth. She wet her lips as she ran a hand over it, her fingers leaving behind an uneven trail within the dust. It was odd though, at the end of the table, one single glass stood upright. Stepping closer, she realized it was likely the one thing free of dust.

"Weird..." she whispered, tracing the rim with her fingertip.

She nearly jumped when Adrian grabbed her arm, pulling her forward.

"See? Fireplace," he grinned, pointing to the wall.

"Heat," she thought.

Oh, how much she loved it. She really loves the cold weather, but she doesn't like being stuck in it with a poor excuse for a vehicle.

"There's gotta be firewood somewhere," he said, excitement filling his voice as he scrambled around the room.

She tried not to laugh as she watched, carefully pulling out one of the chairs from the table. She was feeling light-headed, easing herself down into the seat.

She was starting to have a very strange feeling, a feeling of not only being watched but that they shouldn't be there. She wasn't sure about it, the place appeared abandoned, but she wasn't exactly sure. Feeling something soft drape over her, she came back to her senses to see it was her brother's jacket that he had draped.

"I'll be right back, okay?" he said, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. "I'm gonna see if there is some firewood near the back of this place."

"Okay..." she breathed, white clouding the air once more.

As he left, she closed her eyes, curled into the jacket, and hugged her knees to her chest for warmth. Her heels dug into the material beneath her, keeping her firmly planted in place.

"So cold..." she whispered.

She knew she wanted to get her blanket out while riding in the truck. But she told herself that she wasn't going to need it at all.

Glancing down, she caught sight of their packs, leaning over and pulling the top of her brother open. No doubt he had a flashlight in one of the pockets, her shoulders still trembling.

She was a bit curious about the place. She wondered who use to live there.

Running a hand through her hair, she sneezed, groaning. Pushing a few things out of the way, she managed to find what she was looking for. Pulling the flashlight free, she clicked it on. Light flooded the room in front of her causing her to squint. Her eyes went back to the first thing she had seen. The glass was crystal, patterns etched along the stem, seeming to crawl upwards toward the lip of the vessel. She spotted the remains of a couple more, stems broken as they littered the tabletop. They'd no doubt been that way for a long time.

She could see dust covering the entire table except for the area she ran her fingers across.

It made her wonder when the last time was that it had been touched, feeling another shiver run down her spine.