Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry.
And the Stockholm Syndrome develops even further.
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He was touching her stomach now, through clothing of course, and he seemed delighted to feel what was probably a kick or punch from the little things. His eyes were slightly hazy, and she knew he was using his sixth sense to feel them. That was the point of this, letting him hold her, to be sure the- hi- her children were okay.
He seemed very happy, and she wondered if needing to be this close to them was a trick. He hadn't actually said he needed to touch her for this, and she'd learned that the way he lied (unless everything was a lie), was to imply something and let her, essentially, trick herself, assuming the implication was the real story.
Still, what if she distracted him before he was done checking? Then he would have to hold her like this for longer. She didn't want him to be too close to the babies, what if he warped them, influenced their minds like he had tried to do hers?
Little helpless things… they loved him too, felt safer when they could feel him (which was at very close range), and she had to tell them the truth but she, part of her, wanted them to keep their illusion. They were devils, but they were so innocent… little angels, and could she catch them before they fell?
He looked so happy. She didn't want him to be happy. But that expression, and what she could sense, that he cared deeply for the twins, made her soften.
She had to stay strong. He felt so big and strange, not a human soul. Not a guardian angel either, for all he promised protection.
The only thing she'd ever needed protection from in her life was him.
She pushed at him. "Well?"
He blinked, and saw her, that light subsiding, and… could he love them? Could the devil love? Did he love the chance to destroy the humanity he hated, the humanity that was allowed into the heaven he had denied himself? Did he love the children? Babes not yet in arms. Her arms.
She didn't want them to know their father had damned them before they were born.
Her belly swelled, sign of her shame, she couldn't forget with that mark there, but… it wasn't their fault.
"They are well. You have been taking very good care of them." His hand lingered, even though there was no more excuse for it to be there. The babies were active, pushing and kicking, like they were trying to dig through to that hand.
She had a sudden horrible image of two tiny versions of the devil that had… clawing their way out of her. Would they match the image she had in her head, would they even look human? Would they have any human in them at all? Was what she felt a lie?
"I'm eating well. You're making sure of that." She stood up from the chair, pushing him away. She could feel the babies look around for him, dimly, but they couldn't feel him without the contact. Disappointed, they felt for each other and went back to sleep.
"You love them." He smiled at her, admiration and what she was afraid of in his eyes. He couldn't feel love… doubts, doubts were plaguing her. No, she would stay strong. But the evidence of her own senses… faith, faith.
But God had abandoned her. Who knew how many months and no one here besides him, no one to rescue her. She got so lonely, sometimes when he went away, instead of feeling properly glad she wanted him to come back. Even though she was afraid of him.
"I don't," she snapped at him.
"You're lying. That's a human trait."
"…they're going to die. If you're Sparda, they're going to fight all of hell on their own, and if you're Satan they're going to perish in Judgment Day. I… they have human souls." Right?
"You want to save them. Love. It's the best thing for them. Children need the love of their parents."
"They don't need anything from you, devil." Her hands cupped over her belly, fragile shield. She couldn't hold him off.
"Even after what I did… is your faith so strong? Or are you so kind, that you do not blame them for the sins of the Father?" He seemed curious, tinged with respect.
"They're innocents. Well, original sin…" Would they survive being baptized? At least they would have a chance at Heaven, then, instead of Limbo. Or worse… "But… they're not the ones who did this to me." She glared again, wishing looks could kill. "I'll save them."
"You are… brave and kind." He bowed slightly, and she didn't want to see admiration.
The more she fought him, the more he admired her, wanted her. The more he wanted her… he had said that he wanted to… do it again. Her cowardly self wanted to be a quiet little mouse, be ignored, do what he said so he lost his respect for her and she would be safe until the end.
But she had to fight him. She'd sworn to fight Satan, and… but if he was Sparda… He'd spoken of the war like he had been there. Saying part-devils had fought on the human side…
If he was telling the truth, was what had happened to her really necessary?
She would have given her life to save the world, right? That would be an honor.
Had she… if she had been willing then he wouldn't have had to… was her dishonor her fault? He really, really seemed to regret it, but he didn't rub it in, saying it was her fault. He didn't try to play on her feelings.
That, more than anything else made her believe him. He was desperate for forgiveness, but not enough to pin the blame on her. He was… honest.
But if he was Satan, then it wasn't her fault, everything was his fault and inevitable. God's fault, perhaps? No!
She shrugged in answer to his compliment, and turned away. "I don't think I need blood today."
"You are growing stronger. You broke the last threads of my spells months ago. You have enough to feed them now, and you are." He sounded slightly regretful.
"Isn't that a good thing? They're not feeding on you, won't that make you live longer? If you are telling the truth." She wanted… she wanted to catch him in a lie. But she couldn't prove a negative. She couldn't prove he wasn't Satan.
Except that he could touch her crucifix without pain… And the tale of Sparda wasn't in the actual Bible, that was why the Protestants rejected part of it, like the Holy Grail. He could be…
Her children would be a hero's children then. Not just… a rapist's children. Whatever else he was, he had done that. For them, and the world, but… he'd enjoyed it.
She wished this had never happened, she wished things were the way they had been when everything was black and white and she knew the truth. He made her doubt, devil that he was, but he claimed he was simply from a land sideways to theirs, not Heaven or Hell. Like Elfland in the stories. He looked like a royal elf, beautiful but it was all a glamour.
"Yes, but… I want to feed you."
"Because that's how it would be if we were husband and wife? We're not. We never will be. I will never be able to let you touch me without remembering, and my skin crawling." She suddenly had a horrible thought. "Promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me or I swear I'll do my best to hate them."
"Your best is… but I cannot promise without knowing what I am promising."
"After you put me back and take my memories. Promise me you won't… try to seduce me. Try to get me to marry you. Promise me I'll never see you again."
"Never?" He looked pained. Good.
"Never." She glared.
He hesitated. "So you were planning it," she said bitterly.
"I wanted… Yes." He nodded. "You are right."
"And I'd never know the children I helped you raise were mine. Bastard," the swear word crossed her lips and she couldn't believe she'd said it. She blushed slightly, still angry. "You'd… I'll never forgive you. You want me to love you. After everything you did. And you said you don't lie. That would be the ultimate lie."
"I do love you. They love you. I wanted them to have… what they would have had if I wasn't dying, if there had been more time, if I had found a mate, found you sooner." He bowed his head.
"You don't deserve to love me." He wanted her to stay around, for them? She could teach them the Bible, maybe save them? "Don't ever say that again."
"It is the truth."
"People don't rape people they love."
He laughed and shook his head. "It's common even among humans. Among our kind? It's romantic."
"Why are you in love with me anyway?"
"You are strong, and kind."
"I wish I wasn't." She shivered, turning so she didn't have to look at him, so the fear would be reduced even a fraction. The children ate it up, little psychic vacuum cleaners, and she blessed them, worried it might harm them. Fear and hate weren't good for human children… but they might need it. Varied diets were good for you. "I wish I didn't have magic. I wish…" she swallowed. "I wish I had never met you." And it scared her, that that last statement wasn't completely true.
She had hurt him with those words, and she smiled, then paled. She was taking joy from the pain of another. Had she really sunk so low? If you were hurt, you turned the other cheek, that was the way. You should be kind to even the worst criminals. Even the devil?
Yes.
His pain was smoothed away by wearied acceptance. He knew he deserved it. He was truly repentant. Weren't you supposed to forgive trespasses? Wasn't repentance worth something?
She still woke up crying sometimes, before the children soothed it, and she blessed them for that. She'd wished she'd died that night.
She wished it had never happened. She wanted that memory gone, but she wanted to stay, save the children… she could have had both. He would have taken it, and then… what would it have been like if she had been willing? If it had been a marriage bed? He had, she swallowed, made her enjoy it, even though she'd tried so hard not to. Used a spell, but… He acted… gentle, and kind, even though he wanted to do it again, harder. He was so handsome, and… like a white knight, every girl's dream. Prince Charming. Prince of Darkness?
If only… if only the lie was truth. If only she didn't know what he was, what he was capable of.
Her shoulders shook, she held it in for the children, and she felt him stand up, come up behind her and lay a hand on her shoulder. Support, comfort, he offered, and she needed it so bad she was willing to take it even from him.
"I want to go home," she whispered.
"I know it is worth nothing, but I am sorry," he whispered back, heartfelt and intimate.
"We could say we eloped."
"What?" She'd surprised and shocked him.
"I'm not leaving the children, not with you." She sounded so hateful.
"You want to take care of them?" He sounded so happy now.
"I want to save them. From you." From everything. She was damned, but these two, not yet, please not yet.
"You are a saint." And he hugged her from behind.
She stood still, endured. He was warm, and the children stirred to greet him. "Don't mock me."
"I was not."
She wished… She felt like she didn't know anything anymore.