A/N: OK – Dedicated to J

Yeah DMC belongs to Capcom... lucky things!

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Dante stood and stretched his legs out. Vergil was lying cold on the floor. Sucker, Dante thought. Well he shouldn't have come back should he? He rubbed his neck and looked around the place. Damn, he didn't think that he would have been able to mess the place up more than it had been but the little fray with Vergil had managed to disintegrate the rest of the pool table and there were many more bullet holes in the walls. Well a little sunlight never hurt anybody.

Dante went into the kitchen and opened the fridge; at the back was a small compartment with vials of glowing green liquid. Demon essence. The things he had to go through to get these. Luckily the supplier relied on Dante being able to beat them into submission so he was able to get them for free, but the bigger the demon the better the essence and the higher the price. He also got a small cut in the profits, but as it was a rather niche market it was not a solid income.

He threw his head back and downed the vial. He shuddered and gagged. As much as he needed to use them he still couldn't get used to the taste of them. But then without them he would have been dead when they came for him the last time.

Someone, he was sure who, had sent a large task force after him. He guessed it would have been Mundas being trapped on the other side of the barrier being unable to pass through but could send minions. Normally only one or two would come through at a time and they were easily dispatched, occasionally there would be a few bigger ones at the same time, the more powerful the greater the number were able to pass over.

Over 1000 demons had walked the earth that day. He closed his eyes and remembered the screaming of the humans, the panic and despair. He remembered the blood and he remembered the pain. There was nothing he could do to stop the slaughter of so many people. He fought with all his might and destroyed a great number of the lesser demons but the higher ranking ones were harder to dispatch. Even with the added strength of his devil trigger he was unable to over come them. He was one against an army. It reminded him of the time when he followed Vergil into the tower to stop him from opening the portal in the first time round. He battled many and he had changed. But he still forgave him when he clawed his way back out of the other side.

He had taken him back in and comforted him in the dark. Vergil had changed. He was much quieter. He was drawn and paler than before. His features were harder and colder. Dante had trouble reaching out to him. He should have been mad at him. Vergil had tried to destroy the world, but he was secretly proud of him. Vergil had been able to harness the power their father had given them in ways he had never been able to. The flying sword trick he had, jealous much. But then with power comes darkness it seems.

Dante leaned against the fridge feeling the demon juices working its magic. His wounds which would have caused a mortal man to die from blood loss were healing faster than before and he was starting to feel much better. A little woozy from the blood loss still. Although the essence returned his strength, it only affected the demon side of him. The human side of him still craved a good hot cup of sweet tea and a biscuit. Ah, he smiled, he was his father's son after all. His father was a fan of good tea and his mother was the queen of tea makers. It was the only thing that had been able to get him up and awake in the morning!

He sat at the table and waited for the feeling of dizziness to pass. What was he going to do about his brother? He was so angry at him right now. He could feel the rage hot in his veins. After all Dante had shot him. Ok he would recover, but it was point blank in the shoulder. No wonder he had blacked out. He was sick of it though. Vergil had upped and left him just before this whole mess started. It was just uncalled for. He was going to find out just what the hell he had been doing and why the hell he had come back.

He was not about to take a cold clipped answer that his brother was so famous for giving. He had changed. He had become stronger and embraced his demon side more than before. His devil trigger was sleeker and stronger. It was camouflaged towards the city now, he was almost unstoppable.

He should at least thank his brother for that, he thought, as a bitter smile crept across his face. If he had not left he wouldn't have been attacked and he wouldn't have had to have that god awful potion from the supplier to save his life.

That was the reason he hated Vergil. He had become more powerful, but it didn't meant he liked what he had become. He had started to enjoy the killing and the fighting. Vergil had always enjoyed the battle more than him, he found it fun alright, but he was the cocky childish one, Vergil was the hard fighter. He was the disciplined one; he was the one that relished the victory. Dante liked to win, but it was a different feeling now. It was pure satisfaction and he enjoyed inflicting the pain and watching the demons suffer. He could sense their fear even more than before and he almost fed off it like they did. He retched and fought to hold on to the crap in his stomach. It tasted bad enough on the way down, he didn't fancy a repeat.

Vergil groaned in the other room. Shit. He should really go see to him. He would be weak and would need his wound seen to. Just the idea of looking after his brother made his vision swim in blood. He was done with that. He had tried to help him last time. And look what had happened. He had become his brother. He liked the new found power, but he didn't like the way it was forced upon him. He liked the human side of him, he enjoyed going down the bar for a few drinks, chat up the barmaid like always and have a good time. Last time he went there she was scared of him. He was not sure what it was but when he got back home and looked in the shattered remains of the mirror what he saw scared him.

He had been staying in the building across the road from the shop. The place was a mess, but it was reasonably clean compared to this dump. He only came here every so often to stock up on the essence and to eat sometimes. He loved the kitchen. It was the place where his mother was. He had loved his mother so much. He was defiantly a mummy's boy as Vergil put it, but then Vergil was his father's little soldier.

Dante got up and threw the vial into the trash, hmmm should really take that out I guess now that Vergil is home, he thought to himself. He picked up a chair and took it into the front room. Vergil was against the wall and holding his shoulder. He was pale, ghostly pale. Dante was slightly worried, Vergil was a tough boy, but looking this pale. He was almost sorry for him. Then he remembered he was angry at his twin and he needed answers. His eyes narrowed and he reminded himself that this was the man that had walked out on and he could be dead now because of it.

He gritted his teeth and stormed into the room.