Spoilers/Warning: This fic contains spoilers about the game and its ending so consider yourself warned. And also there's some swearing in here, due to the Sparda brothers' potty mouths.
Dedication: To Zeromaru Chaos Mode, Laryna6, Lina L, SecretsofPandora, The Tyrant Hamster, BladeMaster16, Some Random Reviewer, AnimeGamer10, Meirelle, yodel, rose-mirror21, Kerriane Harrington, Dra Gan the Dragoniodian King, Avrile, Shinimegami, Dav Strife, Sable, Kay-Marie (LOL girl, your question about Yamato will be answered later on), and Shades of Blood.
Holy cow! Over 100 reviews! Really, you guys are the awesome! You all get chocolate hearts since it's Valentine's and all. :) I am totally in your debt since you're the ones who keep me writing! Thanks so much for reviewing, and I hope you keep on doing it!
Disclaimer: Capcom owns the rights to Devil May Cry! But they were nice enough to let me borrow it. :P
A/N: What can I say? I want to make this fic go faster, but apparently it isn't going to happen. Oh well, onwards and upwards! Enjoy. :D
Oh, and since Shinimegami brought it up, I'm starting a mailing list. When I update I'll email those who want to be informed about it. Just tell me if you want to be in the mailing list and which email to send it to. Cheers!
Chapter 09: Bringing Home the Bacon
Clamping a hand over her bleeding left shoulder, Lady jogged over to where her Uzis had fallen from her brief tussle with the reaper. Scooping one up with her bloody right hand, she pointed it at the large demon.
'Dammit!' she cursed mentally as she tried to get a clean shot. However Cerberus' constant jumping always got in the way of her aim.
Almost stamping her foot in irritation, she watched and waited as the demon dog deftly avoided all the reaper's attacks while successfully landing his own. She couldn't help but admire the three-headed hound's strength and agility, and was starkly reminded of her own human limitations.
Shoving the thoughts away, she gripped the Uzi's gunstock tighter. It didn't matter if she was less powerful than a demon; as long as she was willing to battle them it was enough.
It had to be enough.
The reaper raised its scythe in an overhead strike, but as usual the much smaller Cerberus managed to dodge it with seemingly casual ease. The blade's tip inserted into the concrete floor as if it were nothing, but when the demon tried to pry its weapon from the ground, the blade stuck fast.
Seeing his chance, Cerberus jumped onto the scythe's shaft and used it like a springboard to leap at the Hell Vanguard's exposed head. Opening his three jaws wide the hound bit into the pallid skin with a sickening noise. His freezing breath immediately started to ice over the other demon's flesh as he tore at its face. Using his sharp paws he also scratched off large chunks of icy demon tissue that fell to the ground in a macabre rain.
Releasing its hold on the scythe, the demon grabbed Cerberus around his middle and roughly threw him off. The demon hound flipped in mid-air and landed on its feet like a cat.
'Now!'
Depressing the trigger of her Uzi, Lady fired a stream of bullets at the wounded creature. They struck it in the middle of its bloodied face and it cried in anguish as the projectiles further opened the injuries.
Shielding its face with its clawed hands, the reaper began to sink into the shadow-covered ground in an attempt to escape. Lady's shots went over its head and she stopped to re-aim. However before she could, Cerberus launched himself at the demon's chest. The dog madly slashed with his paws and snapped with his razor sharp teeth.
The middle head managed to bury his entire muzzle into the chest and sink his fangs into something vital.
More of that purple-black 'blood' seeped from the wound and seemed to enter Cerberus. Lady watched in shock as she actually saw the three-headed dog growing in size.
Before she could think on it further, the reaper let out one last shriek. It was so loud and high-pitched that she had to clamp her gloved hands over her ears. Still its scream was so deafening that it made her head throb. Windows shattered all around her, and dust fell from the shaking support beams overhead.
Lady found herself crouching down with her hands over her ears and her eyes tightly shut. She'd managed to avoid the demon's weapon, but its dying call seemed to be the end of her. The wail seemed to pass through her flesh and made her bones resonate wildly till all she felt was pain. It seemed as if her organs were liquefying at the terrible sound.
The female devil hunter didn't know how long she stayed that way, but eventually she felt something ice cold touching her right arm. Carefully looking up she saw that Cerberus' middle head was gently prodding her with his nose.
The guardian of the gateway to Hell was now the size of a large pony. When she stood up she saw that his head reached a little past her shoulders. He looked the same as before (aside from the increased dimensions that is) but his eyes also had a cleverer look to them.
True he had been sharper than the average dog to begin with but now it actually looked like he had human-level intelligence.
Turning away from those keen eyes, she glanced back at the reaper's remains. Its corporeal body was just a pile of sand now, and none of the darkness remained anywhere.
Actually, now that Lady looked more closely, the insides of the factory seemed brighter somehow. The late afternoon sunlight streaming in from the completely broken windows appeared more luminous than before. Even the numerous shadows in the building didn't seem so deep, so threatening.
"I guess that was the last one, eh boy?" she asked her partner. Her voice rang in her ears, and she swallowed a few times to try to regain her proper hearing.
All of Cerberus' heads barked an affirmative.
Trusting in her companion's otherworldly senses, Lady nodded in satisfaction. Another mission completed, though it had been on the insane side for a while.
After gathering her precious weapons that were scattered on the brewery's floor, she and the hound exited the building. Lady stopped in front of the portal for a moment and let the blessed sunlight touch her skin.
The sight of the setting sun was enough to raise her flagging spirits a little, but she still felt bone tired. Her muscles were sore from all that jumping and dodging she'd done. Even her bones seemed to ache from the reaper's dying call, and she couldn't wait to get home and sleep for a thousand years.
'Home?' Lady snorted in derision. 'Since when do I have a home?'
Cerberus's left head briefly whined at her as he picked up on her mood. She patted his muscular shoulder to show that she was OK and felt his coldness even through her leather gloves.
Eventually they reached the black duffle bag Lady carried her armaments in. It looked lonely and misplaced out there by itself in the parking lot, and she could only feel the same.
Crouching down in front of it she began to expertly pack away her guns when she heard tires going over grass, stone, and dirt. Without looking up she felt more than saw Mr. Gunderson's car coming to a halt farther from them than before.
After long moments, the front door finally opened and the businessman stepped out. With obvious reluctance he approached her and stopped about two feet away.
Ignoring the older man for now, she unzipped one of her duffle bag's side pockets and extracted a large cotton pad and some medical tape. Lady peeled the bloody clothes from her left shoulder and looked at the wound.
'Not bad,' she thought as she inspected the cut. It was indeed long, almost from her front all the way to her back, but it was shallow. Thankfully that meant she wouldn't need a trip to the emergency room for stitches. With luck she might not get a scar from it either.
'Not that it matters,' Lady thought sardonically as she recalled the myriad other scars on her body.
Ripping open the package that held the cotton pad with her teeth, she gingerly placed it on her injury. She winced slightly at the pain but pressed the cloth against it anyway. The wound still bled a little, but she'd take better care of it at Dante's place.
Not being able to stand the silence any longer, Mr. Gunderson cleared his throat loudly. Lady looked at him from the corner of her eyes as she taped the cotton pad in place. His gray eyes were wider than usual, and it kept bouncing from her bloody injury to Cerberus' giant form.
When they first met, the hound had been strange but still relatively harmless looking. He was the size of a toy dog after all. Now that he almost matched Mr. Gunderson's height, Cerberus' looked absolutely lethal.
"I take it you were successful?" he finally asked her as he kept a wary eye on the demon dog.
"Yes. All the demons have been exterminated," she said tiredly, not caring if the client was terrified of Cerberus.
"Good, good," he nodded absent-mindedly as his eyes roved over the hound. "Where did you get this do –"
"If you don't mind, I'd like to get paid and leave," Lady interrupted him sharply. She recognized that look in Mr. Gunderson's eyes; that man always had it. The businessman's initial fear had morphed into inevitable curiosity, and she didn't want it to develop any further.
'People subconsciously fear evil. And yet many are drawn to it like a moth to the flame,' her sire's voice said in her head unbidden.
The words and his voice, oh so composed and reasonable, made her blood boil in reaction. Lady's cheeks flushed and her eyes took on a dangerous light.
Seeing her dark expression, Mr. Gunderson cleared his throat uncomfortably once more and straightened up.
"Of course, Lady, of course," he said with forced calm. "Here's your payment. I think it will be adequate?"
Digging into the inside pocket of his blazer he took out a wad of cash. He handed it to her, and after counting the hundred dollar bills she came up with $3500.
"It is," she said, not up to arguing. It was less than she expected but she imagined that it was more than what most people would, or could, pay. Anyway, in the end, she didn't hunt demons for the money.
"Excellent!" Mr. Gunderson gave her a genuine smile, which she barely returned. Looking over her head, his eyes scanned the brewery. It seemed that he felt the same lifting of oppressive gloom as she did since his expression turned jovial.
With the job done and paid for, Lady bent over and retrieved her bag. Using the straps to lift it, she almost staggered from the weight.
'Oh man, was it this heavy before?' she asked herself as she hid a grimace. Though she'd used several clips of bullets it felt like the bag had doubled in weight. Her fatigue was making things difficult, but with stubborn determination she carried the bag.
Trudging over to the patiently waiting Cerberus, she stopped in front of the gigantic hound.
'And Dante said that he grew bigger than this!' she thought in awe as she looked him up and down. The area around him was cold, and the ground at his feet had been coated with ice. His very breath shot out plumes of white as it froze the water in the air itself.
"Now how am I going to get you on a bus?" she queried as she tapped her foot in thought. There was no way he could fit through the doors, and she doubted the bus drivers would stop for them anyway.
Cerberus' right head ('Righty' if you went by what Dante called him), looked straight into her eyes. Then he shifted his gaze to Mr. Gunderson who was still looking over his brewery. No doubt he was imagining what he could do with it now that it was demon free.
"… I couldn't ask him that!" Lady whispered to Cerberus as a surprised, and slightly mischievous look crossed her features.
The dog's tail started wagging as Lefty jerked his head towards the distracted businessman.
'DO IT!' his gleeful expression clearly stated.
Humming in indecision she glanced back from Cerberus to Mr. Gunderson.
Well … the bus really wasn't a viable option considering what had happened earlier. And that had been when Cerberus was puppy-sized. She couldn't imagine what kind of havoc would ensue now that he was much, much larger.
Sharing a grin with all three heads Lady walked over to the client. He was muttering something about calling in some movers when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
Turning around he was mildly surprised, and disappointed, that they were still here.
"Yes?" he asked as his gaze once more flickered to the giant three-headed dog.
"Mr. Gunderson," Lady began in her most genial voice. Her change in tone immediately made him suspicious.
"I was wondering if we could trouble you for a ride back into town?"
With a final tug, Vergil managed to get the old light bulb free from the lamp. He gave the item a cursory look before tossing it into a nearby garbage bin.
Dinner was simmering in the kitchen, and his brother was still asleep. With nothing left to do (his book collection was non-existent at this time), he had decided to fix the four lamp stands Agni and Rudra had previously found.
The lamp stands were tall, about six feet in height. From the black base protruded a thin shaft that ended with glass 'lamp shades' shaped like fans. When a working light bulb was placed in them these fans lit up and would look quite nice with the rest of the décor.
Vergil would never openly admit it, but this place didn't look half bad. Yes the majority of the items were second hand, but it all coalesced into something … comfortable.
Still, he couldn't stay here forever. He had things to do, goals to achieve, and power to obtain. This little setback didn't deter him from his ultimate purpose: to gain the power of Sparda that was rightfully his.
But before he could do that, he had to recover his devil powers and his beloved Yamato.
When they'd been cleaning the flat a few days ago, Vergil had been looking for his sword as well. But all that searching had been fruitless so he was forced to reside here till he could regain his weapon.
Vergil couldn't believe that his brother had left his katana in the Divinity Statue before the Temen-Ni-Gru had buckled. It nagged at him that Dante would bother doing that while carrying him and escaping the collapsing Demon Tower at the same time. That didn't make sense, but then again, his brother loved to yank his chain.
Unfortunately it wasn't only Dante who was wearing his patience thin. Being forced to remain here, having his wounds heal at human speeds, dealing with Lady's attitude, and putting up with the former Tower guardians was really starting to get to him. On several occasions Vergil had found himself extremely tempted to resort to violence, but each time he'd managed to control the urge. Now he tried to keep himself occupied lest he lose his temper and do something rash.
Oddly enough it was cooking that had kept him calm for this long. At first he did it out of necessity; Dante's idea of cooking was calling the local pizza parlor. With their current financial state, that was unfeasible, not to mention unhealthy as well. Lady's culinary attempts hadn't been bad but still, his meals always came out better.
He didn't really enjoy cooking, nor was he adverse to it. The task simply occupied his mind so that he didn't dwell on his current situation, which brought him a measure of peace. And since he'd claimed the kitchen as his own personal domain (he didn't tolerate Dante or Lady mucking around in there) he was free to bask in blessed solitude for a while.
The familiar humming and clanking of the elevator running suddenly filled Vergil's ears. With his back turned to the elevator, he began to work on the next lamp stand.
'It took her long enough to finish,' he thought as he quickly checked the wall clock. It was close to seven p.m. now, and the sun was only a smear on the horizon. He knew that if he, or Dante, had gone, they would have completed the job hours ago.
With a loud clang the elevator stopped and he heard the gate being pushed open.
"So, you're finally back," Vergil said while inspecting the lamp's electrical cord. "Were you successful?"
"Successful in what?" a voice that was definitely not Lady's asked.
Turning around in surprise, Vergil saw a rather rotund man standing in the flat's 'foyer' area. He was older than them, probably in his mid-fifties. His curly steel gray hair was unkempt and greasy; they were kept out of his face by a dirty baseball cap.
This stranger might have been muscular once but he had traded that in for rolls of fat. His jowls hung low over his chest, and he stared out at Vergil with beady hazel eyes. The stained tan t-shirt and brown plaid pants were stretched over his body, and they extended even further as he lumbered towards the oldest twin.
'Who is this man, and how did he get in here?' Vergil asked himself as he watched the approaching figure. The smell of old cigar smoke and booze hit his nostrils, and the half devil sniffed in distaste.
'Dante's associates could use some improvement.'
Either the man didn't notice Vergil's revulsion or he didn't care. He was busy looking around the re-decorated flat, and by the looks of it he was impressed. A little.
Finally coming to a stop a foot away from Vergil, the man looked straight into the cold blue eyes. Used to those kinds of stares, the 'guest' got right down to business.
"So you plannin' on staying here after all, Dante?"
Vergil raised an eyebrow in silent question.
"Figured you might," he grinned, showing off yellowed teeth. "With all that weird crap going on a few blocks down, I thought maybe your new place got screwed up too. Well if you plan on renewing your lease with me, you have to pay up now. And no more funny shit either; I don't want any more calls about late night romps or damaged property. You got that, punk?"
He accentuated his words by poking Vergil in the chest with a sausage-like finger. The Sparda twin's face didn't change, but the mood certainly did. Somehow he seemed all the more imposing, and his urge to kill the offending man seemed to manifest itself into the air.
Feeling the suddenly heavy atmosphere, the stranger backed up a little. He didn't know what happened to Dante, but he usually wasn't this silent or dangerous. Dante had lived here for almost two years, but he'd been a smart-ass the entire time. This attitude was new, and he didn't like it one bit.
"One complaint from the other tenants, and you're outta here," the man continued on with fake bravado. "Or if you even chip a piece of brick off the wall, you're gone."
Not appreciating the stranger's intimidation tactics, Vergil took a step forward. No one threatened him and lived; it was a personal rule he upheld no matter what.
With surprisingly fast reflexes the larger man took out a revolver from behind him. He'd tucked the gun inside his pant's waistband, and by the way he handled it, this wasn't the first time he'd used it. When you lived in the seediest part of town, and your tenants were dodgy at best, it was always a good idea to carry around a little insurance wherever you went.
He aimed it at Vergil, but all he saw were four lamp stands in the middle of the room. Suddenly he felt a hard punch to the gut, and it sent him sprawling across the coffee table. His backside slid across the polished surface and knocked a stack of magazines and newspapers onto the ground.
With a loud grunt, he crashed onto the carpeted floor. He'd retained his grip on his revolver, but it promptly fell out of his hand when someone swiftly chopped at his wrist.
Shouting in pain, he held his aching joint in his opposite hand. A shadow loomed over him, and glancing up he saw the cold visage of Dante. He'd never seen this killer look on him before, and he couldn't help but gape at the menacing figure.
"Wha's goin' on?"
The sleepy voice broke the mood, which the man was grateful for. Using a nearby armchair for support, he shakily rose to his feet.
"Hey, this nut is trying to kill me!" the landlord said with anger, and a tinge of fear, in his voice. Taking several steps back, the man maneuvered himself around the still threatening form of Dante.
When he looked at the source of the new voice though, he couldn't help but do a double take.
Dante was standing at the other end of the flat wearing nothing more than black jeans. His voice was husky and his hair was tousled. Sniffing loudly once, Dante swept some of his unruly bangs out of his bleary eyes.
But what really caught the other man's attention was the girl standing next to Dante. She was obviously a minor, maybe around thirteen or so. However he had to admit that she was a real looker.
She only wore a blanket wrapped around her slim body, but he could see peeks of smooth skin. It was pale, no, pallid actually, but it set off her bright orange-red hair in perfect contrast.
'It has to be dyed,' the landlord thought as he kept ogling the girl. 'No way her hair colour is natural.'
There were no signs of make-up on her face aside from bright red lipstick. But she had to be wearing contact lenses too; her crimson irises couldn't be real.
With a flirtatious smirk, she wrapped her arms around one of Dante's own. The action caused the blanket to slip further down her torso, revealing the tops of rather generous breasts.
She may only be thirteen, but she was a well-endowed thirteen.
In total disbelief the man's eyes flickered from Dante, to the girl, to the lamp stands, to the Dante look-alike who had almost murdered him, and then back again to Dante. Suddenly it all became clear to him.
"Dante!" he shouted, his face going red. "Are you filming porn in my building?"
"What!" Dante asked in shock, completely awake now. Vergil, who had just noticed the strange girl besides his brother, could only slap a hand over his eyes in incredulity.
'Great! Now the landlord thinks we're perverts! And pedophiles too! That's disgusting!' he groaned to himself.
Now he knew he shouldn't have just tipped himself over into the abyss back in the Demon World. He should have leapt into the damned darkness with a rocket pack strapped to his back. That way he could have zoomed deeper into Hell, which was probably better than being here right now, at this very embarrassing and awkward moment.
'Nothing can be worse than this!' Vergil thought as he heard Dante finally noticing the girl clamped onto his arm. His younger sibling was now yelling at her to let him go, but all she did was giggle. No, giggle was too innocent a word for it. Her laugh had been throaty, seductive, and very adult.
"What the HELL is going on here!"
The roaring voice of Lady made Vergil start in surprise.
'OK, I was wrong. Now it can't get any worse than this.'
Turning around to face the elevators, he saw that a tired but livid looking Lady was standing there, gaping at them all. Beside her was a much larger version of Cerberus, who looked amused by the entire situation.
"Who're you? Another chick for the film?"
"What film?" she asked warily.
"That kind of film," the man jerked a thick thumb in Dante's direction.
Looking around Vergil's body, she saw the other Sparda twin standing in the grasp of a young looking red head.
"Dante …" she said threateningly, a growl Cerberus would be proud of escaping from her throat.
"Whoa, babe, it's not what it looks like!" Dante waved his hands at her in a placating manner. "This is another one of my, err, well you know. Her name is Nevan."
"Nice to meet you," she said to Lady with a triumphant smirk. The female demon tightened her grip on Dante's limb, much to his chagrin.
"Look, I don't care who any of you are or what you're doing here!" the large man shouted. "Dante, either you pay up now or you can kiss this place good bye!"
"Hey, wait a minute, Lou! That ain't fair!"
"Cry me a river," he sneered. "Fifteen hundred dollars upfront, right now, or else start packing your bags."
"What? I only paid a thousand before!" Dante said angrily, his cheeks reddening with the emotion.
"I only put up with you because Enzo said you were cool. That bastard was obviously lying his ass off so pay up or else."
It was apparent that he didn't think they had the money right then and there. He was surprised when the new girl came over and took a thick wad of bills from out of her shirt's breast pocket. Counting the hundred dollar bills right in front of him, she separated $1500 from the rest and handed it to him.
"I trust this will cover it?"
"Yeah," Lou said, eyeing the bills still in her hand.
"Great. Now get out of here."
He was about to make a retort, but a low rumble began to fill the room. Looking past her, he saw a huge dog, a three-headed dog at that, growling at him. It was glaring at him with blazing eyes, and an overwhelming fear gripped his body.
"Fine, fine," he said as he hastily made his way to the elevator.
"Don't forget this," Vergil said as he tossed the revolver at the man. His aversion for the firearm was clear in his voice, and Lady glared at him.
"Another fifteen hundred dollars by next month, Dante. And remember, if I get even one complaint about you, all of you are gone!" the landlord said from the safety of the elevator. Activating the lift he pressed a button for the ground floor.
The occupants of the room gladly watched him leave. An uncomfortable silence reigned in the room that was getting increasingly colder. Finally Dante cleared his throat and smiled winningly at Lady.
"So, it was a cake walk, right?"