Devil May Cry: Would you Fight for Me
Written By: Lady Lunar Phoenix
Beta attempt number 1: I noticed a typo, I'll do a proper Beta in a year or so...
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It began with time.
'Destroying' the Qliphoth tree wasn't going to be as much a day long job as Dante had shrugged off. The expectation had been to go and make a leisurely lumberjack job of the tree and trying to assess what had become of his brother. Passing comments that worried him, blank spaces of Vergils' memory as complete as a deleted scene from a movie. Nothing remained on the surface and Dante feared it remained somewhere in the back. Yet the tree stood as a bloody neutral ground, a conversation piece that didn't inflict pain. It was beyond massive, they had culled several 'limbs' on their way to the thick blood soaked trunk.
With sunlight never reaching this world, the sky was always in darkness with only the lurid glow of energy to illuminate anything. A stifling dome that created a slowly claustrophobic sensation of a coffin lid, eternally lowered over the dead. Denied sunlight or moonlight, the twins couldn't tell if it was the same day or a week after. While being half demon meant that the need for rest or food wasn't as important leaving them with less touchstones for time. While granting them more time to 'talk the night away' as it were.
So amid taunts, demon slaying, challenges, sparring matches, demon slaying, reminiscing about their childhood and even more demon slaying. Somewhere amid all of that Dante finally started to feel like he was getting a read on Vergil. Something he hadn't felt since the day Trish told him about Nelo Angelo, or rather 'Nero Angelo'. It had been one thing to have irreconcilably differences, to decide that 'his' Vergil died when they were kids. So long as he could believe that Vergil was alive 'somewhere'.
But it was agony when the fiction became fact.
Yet somewhere along the way, whatever it was that V had been or done... Vergil had changed.
After so many agonizing years of solitude, hiding in his shop and coming out only to kill demons. Of fruitless searches and quiet resignations that eventually blossomed into a young man. Seeing Vergils' ghost in that raw teen, the same stare, the same intensity, and suddenly he was tearing through the meager files he kept. Rewriting all the references of 'Nero Angelo' to 'Nelo Angelo' because Dante was going to be dammed to a worse hell than this before he let his nephew's name be tied to his father's broken form.
"Curious," Vergil commented thoughtfully after Yamato had sliced through some roots to reveal a wall fragment, a strange thing to find among the roots of the tree. It protruded upwards, a jagged tooth of a giant, its walls may have been white once upon a time. Now it was dusted with dirt and stained red from the human blood that had been carried down from the human world. Which it 'had' to, for there were no structures in the Demon World. Well, not when Mundus was gone.
"What you got there Vergil?" Dante asked, shaking off the corpse of an empusa absentmindedly from its impaled death on his sword.
His twin was seemingly invested in what looked like a broken chunk of wall to the devil hunter, going so far as to start slicing off bits of root to uncover more. Pockets of blood spurted out as the Yamato lightly caressed it, splitting open the vein easily. "It would appear that this part of the trunk has grown around a physical structure."
"So?" Dante shrugged as he sauntered over to his brother, the roots in the human world had been littered with a great many human constructs. How was one broken wall different? "Its just a wall. Come on, I want to get back to the human world 'before' Nero becomes a dad."
Vergil stiffened in response to the comment, his hand that had been running along the wall froze and curled slightly before he caught himself. He took a calming breath and forced the reality out of his mind to resume studying the wall. It played on his memories, in the darker recesses where his nightmares once resided. "The demon world is rather organic in a sense. It lacks buildings and other objects the human world has... Yet there's a wall here..."
"Well couldn't the tree have carried something back on its own when it started to retreat back into here?" Dante asked, seeing the simplest of answer to the question.
Nodding at the logic, Dante looked more about himself now that Vergil had pointed it out. His time in the Underworld hadn't been about sightseeing beyond sighting Vergil. Only to come away two years later with only the Yamato's saya. Hive like veins where demons could rest existed, but there was nothing that could be confidently referred to as a 'landmass'. All it took was one particular large demon to flatten anything, and often they did in power disputes.
So while Dante 'knew' there was a way out of the Underworld now, namely Yamato.. Well...
A question sudden sprang up in his mind... Dante looked at the wall, and in his mind it began to rebuild itself, the blood washing away... It became white and the sky a washed in a perversion of the earth's blue sky. Lifeless and empty, rooms with recreations of demons he had fought. Alarm bells began to ring a clarion call in the back of Dante's mind.
His promise to Mundus that the next time Mundus came to the human world, it would be his son that would face Prince of Darkness. But he didn't have the promised child, Vergil did and Nero wasn't ready to face someone like Mundus. And Vergil... was up ahead, walking heedless of the thoughts that erupted from bloody graves in Dantes' mind. Ripping Vergil out of the tree and dragging him back to wait felt like such a 'good' idea at that moment.
Perhaps because they were twins, or something else, but Vergil stopped in his steady progression and lowered his head into his empty hand. He turned around at the absence of a second pair of footsteps. Seeking out Dantes' presence patiently, his brothers' expression was hidden behind his bangs. But his gaze caught, he watched Dante attempt a breezy smile, the same one he gave ever since they arrived in the Underworld. That regret filled smile that hinted at all the things they had missed while Vergil had been away.
More like a kicked puppy than anything.
Which was ironic seeing that Vergil could be viewed as little more than a mad, rabid dog. What other description could be afforded someone who ripped off their own childs' arm? An opportunity to establish a connection. A bond with someone untainted by all of Vergils' past failures, and he ruined it with violence. Then watered that wound with poisoned words all the way through the tree to ensure that Nero would kill. If Vergil couldn't rein in his demonic side as his frail human side, and Dante couldn't do it.
It would have fallen upon Nero. With Vergil having decided that it would be for the best that Nero have no shred of sympathy for Urizen. Better for the hatred to keep Nero focused than the pity that could make him slip up. All the while confident that 'his nephew' would be fine even if he learned who Urizen was. At least at first. But the child was a delight, and somehow perhaps the boy knew how to poison in turn.
As V poisoned Nero with honeyed words of revenge against the one who took the boys' arm. Nero poisoned V with his compassion, his tolerance, his humility, what else could one call it when Nero willingly bowed to V's words? V's appearance made him seem close in age to Nero, there was no reason for the boy to readily submit to a peers' wishes. He may have acted tough around Dante. But V was physically weak and Nero didn't behave with the same bravado around V. Tolerant of the odd stranger, the same trusting personality untainted by having his arm violently ripped off in his own home... The boy was... something...
'And the boy is mine!'
It was a childish thought. A scream 'from' a child even if the only one were to hear Vergil's inner thoughts was Vergil himself. The wailing of a child not wanting to share this precious gift. A gift he had ruined with his own selfish desires. 'Grandchildren' indeed. What wonderful stories Vergil could recount, how he unleashed demons in a mad bid for power in his youth perhaps? Or maybe how he tore their fathers' arm off in a near animalistic need for self preservation? Maybe they would enjoy a tale about how he nearly destroyed the world in a bid to have one more fight with their great Uncle...
"Vergil? Maybe we should go it slow... Something about this place doesn't feel right to me," Dante called out as he hurried his steps to join Vergil.
"Why? There is no standing threat here that should delay us," Vergil replied, yet Dante was ill at ease suddenly. His lackadaisical pace was replaced by a stalking stride, his shoulders were hunched forward just enough to imply he was on the hunt. Giving lie to his suggestion that they 'slow down'. But what was the hunt?
More over the Devil Hunter didn't look to be forthcoming about his reasoning, Vergil caught his glance once and his younger brother looked away. "Dante."
Dante frowned in frustration as his thoughts began to chase each other into nauseating knots. He looked up at Vergil who stood slightly elevated on the root of the Qliphoth, amid all the red and blacks in the background, Vergil looked coolly detached from it. A flicker of curiosity or concern danced across Vergil's expression. He just stood there waiting for Dante and the Hunter found himself hit by this wave of fear.
How exactly 'had' Vergil survived all this time?
"I killed you on Mallet Island... How did you survive all this time? Where were you?"
Vergil didn't drop his gaze, but Dante could feel the absence of focus as Vergil dug through his memories. 'Was' this Vergil? Could it have been a copy the way Trish was created in the image of Eva?A copy created, or maybe this was just what all those Nelo Angelos looked like when they were busted out of their armor?
"I... can not recall... I remember distantly seeing you, a momentary discomfort then release..." But the memories did not come and soon he was only able to give an indifferent shrug. "Perhaps that is what Phantom contained..."
"Phantom?" Dante echoed, how did the demon spider factor into anything?
"The familiars, each was a set of memories I had and when I separated myself each one became their own entity. Originally there were four, you met three, Phantom was the last." Vergil explain, while he couldn't remember what Dante wanted to know. He could recall running across the bloated spider in Red Grave City. "The familiar refused to submit so I destroyed him, though it meant losing those memories that he carried." He shrugged slightly with indifference before he tugged lightly at the collar of his vest. His left thumb rubbed comfortingly over the hilt of the Yamato, the hum of the swords power a grounding reassurance.
His Yamato had changed in his absence. It been one to flow and change with growth true, but it was marked now as well. The shield that Urizen had caused it to manifest was not a skill of his creation, Vergil now recognized. It was Nero's desire to protect, somehow the Yamato had not just recognized the child, but manifested an ability intended to reflect its new owner.
Nero's power thus entwined within the Yamato, served as a reminder that it would lend its power to the two. That comfort was a reassurance as he waited for Dante to get to whatever point the hunter was trying to make. They stood there even as the tree pulsed with blood through its veins, demons would eventually start to gather again around them. Yet Dante just stood there, looking up at Vergil with a multitude of emotions seemingly ghosting along his rugged face.
"I thought you had joined with Mundus intentionally," Dante finally began. Recalling a meaningless past, of course. But there was a weight to Dantes' voice, emotions that for once didn't elicit the same disdainful response out of Vergil. "It was about a week after that whole business that Trish told me the truth. She mentioned a 'prisoner', she told me some of what he did to 'that guy'... But it was 'you' she was talking about," the memories came back easily enough for the Hunter. Slipping on a pained smile, silently grateful that Lady had arrived to take Trish out, let the Demon learn a bit more of the human world.
It gave Dante some peace and quiet. Time to slip away into his shop and let the world devolve into nothingness. Sobbing as he curled up behind doors, on the couch, in his bed, there was no place in the shop, that the pain didn't savage into him. "I let you fall here, I let you go and years later... I killed you." His voice became thick with the emotions that had weighed him down, breathing became a struggle. "I never once tried to save you, or help you, I couldn't even recognize you..."
Vergil turned around fully, giving Dante his full attention, his expression wasn't as closed off as normal. There was an almost genuine expression of concern or question that Vergil held before he began to walk back down to join Dante. "Where as that kid just, flies in out of nowhere, tells you to back down and you do... I can tell how you fight, you didn't even try. You let him beat you up," Dante pointed out, his voice thick with emotions he couldn't straighten out. Shame that he let his own twin down? Pride that his nephew was strong enough to do what Dante failed to do? Grief for all the years wasted and lost?
He watched the corners of Vergil's mouth dip down in displeasure, "you think I would not take a duel seriously?"
"You were a walking corpse and you had the strength to rip his arm clean off his body," Dante retorted, causing Vergil to flinch in response.
Vergil straightened his posture his thumb tracing the tsubas' edge. If not for the guilt of the truth in Dantes' words he would have already put the blade to his loud mouth twins' throat. At least the idiot had the decency to look chagrin for his error.
While Dante was still angry, his nephew left in a two month coma over what his idiot father did... But... Somehow while Dante slept, while interacting with V, Nero reached Vergil on some level... "Are you coming home?"
"I have no home," Vergil's reply was a chilled one.
"You could..." Dante pointed out, wishing his voice didn't make him sound so weak. So needy, especially given how much Vergil disdained it. "The shop has spare rooms that can easily be converted into a bedroom. Its not the family home I know... But you could..."
Dante waited for the scorn or ridicule, feeling a twisted sensation of vulnerability and longing, needing to keep Vergil close. It played on the edge of his senses, a threat that he couldn't put his finger on or fully recognize. Only that it wasn't 'him' that it was focused on. Some lizard part of his brain kept hissing that it was after Vergil. While the jagged tooth walls called to mind the landscapes borne from their shared pasts.
It wouldn't have been the least bit surprising if the ground opened up and tried to swallow Vergil whole. Snatching him away after Nero had pulled Vergil back this far. It was far too, as Vergil expression wasn't as closed off, rather he appeared to be internally weighing the options as they stood. Revealing to Dante that Vergil was seriously pondering the offer.
"Nero works for you correct?" Vergil finally asked, even as he began to eye the demons as they approached the pair of hunters. "If it would please him." Though that was the question, 'did' Nero want Vergil around? He had repeatedly reminded the child how 'Urizen' had taken his arm. His narrative had been crafted to motivate Nero into 'fighting' Urizen; at hating Vergil. At best, if Vergil could not defeat Dante, then Nero would be able to cheer his father from the side lines. At worst the boy would take revenge for his fathers' death by slaying a now weakened 'uncle'.
And as Dante had so lovingly pointed out, the boy was a man with children on the way. What need did he have for a villain as a father? There would be no grand tales of heroics from Vergil, Dante most certainly, but Vergil? "If he wishes my presence there, I will stay. If he wishes my departure, I will return here."
Yamato sang as he struck dead the impudent Empusa that approached them. Taking comfort in the simplicity of just killing demons while Dante now had to weigh the counter offer. 'If Nero rejects it, if he wishes me gone. I can open a portal and leave the Yamato behind, she acknowledges him. If nothing else it would be something he would appreciate more than my old book.' It took him a moment to realize that he had nothing else really. The blade or the book, Nero had Red Queen, and no interest in literature as Vergil had in his youth.
Dante joined in as more Empusas and even a Queen began encroaching on their conversation, his stride easy. "Nero didn't awaken his Devil Trigger, and fly all the way to stop our fight just to let you go off on your own Vergil." He smiled quietly, feeling some of his worry fade away. "Face it Vergil, you're moving into my shop."