Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry. Can't sue me! (MC Hammer tune: Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo, doo doo doo! Can't sue me! Doo doo doo doo...)

Summary: Follow-up of sorts to "Abandoned." Takes place before and after Heather returns to her home, and Dante and Vergil. Her thoughts, basically, concerning what she has done to support her children.

To the People Who Hated "My Angel" and Are Currently Reading This: Thanks for giving me the inspiration to write this. This one's dedicated to you!

The Holding

So here I am.

Home again, back in the arms of Dante and Vergil, the men I love.

They lay to either side of me on the couch-bed, their heads pillowed on their arms as they rest on their sides facing me. My hands are clasped tightly within their own. They are deeply asleep.

I have told them everything, every last sordid detail. The prostitution, the self-defense killings, the rapes…

And yet, they did not react as I had feared they would for so long.

They say that it is their fault I left them, that all I have done since that fight five years ago was because they couldn't control their dominant-male tendencies. Because they couldn't share me, or the life within my womb.

They reached a truce while I was gone. If it means keeping me, they will be civil to each other. The very fact that they are both next to me right now, and haven't said an unkind word or even thrown a glare at each other since I returned says that they are making an effort. They don't want me to abandon them again.

Why do they believe I am worth so much?

I betrayed them with so many men. My body has been defiled by uncaring males, my hands stained with blood. The only things I haven't done are to get pregnant or to catch a sexually transmitted disease.

Why haven't they turned from me, in revulsion, in anger?

Is it because I have given them children?

Perhaps.

Or perhaps not. They were more than a little stunned when I told them Michael and Aeva's parentage. I am certain that the possibility of double Chimera Syndrome never occurred to them. Hell, it never occurred to me that four twin embryos, sired by two different men, could possibly have shared my womb at the time of their conception, let alone that two of the twins could have absorbed the other's twin sibling, making two half-demons out of four quarter-demons. So that couldn't be why my men haven't left me, as I left them.

Reece said they had nearly gone mad with worry. Were they concerned only for what they believed to be the single child within my womb?

Or could it have been…

They were afraid for me?

When Vergil caught me upstairs in my towel, I was more concerned with my own pain and shame rather than anything he might have been feeling. But looking back now, I can see the agony in his azure eyes, the tension in his perfect body. He had such sorrow in his voice. The way he asked his question – "Why did you leave me, angel?" – was almost childlike, helpless. I had hurt him, something I didn't believe to be possible.

They way they are laying now, my slender form cradled between the twin heats of their bodies… It speaks in volumes unheard.

Vergil calls me his 'angel'.

Dante refers to me as his 'babe.'

I watch over them, and they take care of me.

I have broken my half of the unspoken bargain, but they will keep theirs.

Is it true?

Have I accomplished what most women would give up everything to have a chance at?

By my actions, all the pain I caused them and myself, have I claimed their hearts, their love?

Do I even what their love?

My fingers tighten convulsively on theirs.

More than anything else, all I've ever wanted is to be loved.

How did I ever get so lucky?

I have beautiful, healthy children, and I have the two most sought-after bachelors in the city agreeing to share me as their mate. What woman could ask for more?

But I still do not feel worthy of all this. The wounds incurred on the streets are still open, still raw and bleeding; pieces of my soul are gone, bartered away so my children and I could survive in that unforgiving environment. I am a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing.

Can I ever be put back together again?

I make a small noise in my throat; Dante, still asleep, removes his hand from mine and pulls me securely against his body, nuzzling my hair and the back of my neck in a soothing gesture. Vergil still holds tightly to my hand, even scoots closer to my new position whilst mired in his dreams. He does not wish to let me go again, even in his sleep.

Through weeks of sharing their beds, I have discovered that they sometimes talk in their sleep. Dante in particular will speak while dreaming. Moreso when he suffers his nightmares – oh, God. He's been suffering those while I was gone, hasn't he? And I was not here to comfort him! – and spills details of the attack that stole his mother and twin brother away from him all those years ago. It is possible to hold an entire conversation with him while he's asleep, and Vergil is capable of this as well.

I have to know. This is the most effective way of answering my questions.

"Why do you accept Heather back? What is she to you, that you can forgive her all that she has done to you, to herself?" I ask them in a quiet voice. This is a private moment; I do not wish for them to awaken just now.

"Love her." The answer comes from two throats, almost at the same time.

"Why do you love her?" My voice is softer than anything I have ever heard or touched before, to cover my emotions. They cannot lie while they sleep, so I know they speak truth.

"Saved me. Makes me happy." Vergil pulls my hand against his steely chest, against his heart. It beats thickly, reassuringly, beneath my hand. That organ, and the one thumping against my back, are mine and mine alone. I can hardly believe it to be true, so unbelievable is this scenario.

"Trusts me. Loves me." Dante's arm curls tighter around my body, as if he is afraid I will fling it off and stalk away into the night, leaving him alone once more. I asked him before, five years ago, to never abandon me; how could I do the same twice, when it caused all of us so much pain and anguish?

There is nothing I can say to refute those answers. What Vergil means by 'Saved me' I have no idea. But the rest of it, and Dante's answers, are more than enough. I require no more proof of their feelings for me than this.

I may never be complete again, but I have my answers.

No matter how much I have lost of myself, I have their love, their forgiveness.

That is more than I could have ever hoped for.