This chapter was supposed to be longer and go further in time but it just seemed right to stop where it was. So it's kind of short. Hope you like it at least a bit. I don't own DMC.

"Sarla!" I didn't look back. Vergil's yells fell on dead ears. Nero's bone shivering, blood freezing, cries had cast a white out inside my body. It wasn't until I shadowed through the door, ignoring the mortal needed doorknob, that my body actually registered my surroundings.

He had wild, onyx hair long enough that it just barely curled around his ears and yellow eyes like my own. Unlike mine however, his made me want to cringe away like he was some savage beast that I couldn't afford to get near. He was tall; probably owning a couple inches or so more than Vergil. Gleaming in his right hand was a broadsword with demon language nearly covering every inch of it, from blade to hilt. Cradled in his left arm was my son, crying and whimpering as he stared up at the man with sad, infant eyes.

"Ah, I didn't expect the princess to get here so soon! Oh, and she even brought her mangy dog with her!" He said to no one despite the words being directed at us.

"Give back my son, or I WILL TEAR YOUR THROAT OUT AND WATCH YOU BLEED!" I roared. The windows shattered, letting the furious onslaught of the wind tear through the room and murderous thunder that bellowed from the previously calm, cloudless skies, shouted their deathly intent into the mansion's walls. Vergil stood behind to the side of me, I heard Yamato's whispers for release as Vergil pushed the blade up with his thumb. His other hand grasped the grip of Yamato.

"Now, now, let's not make idle threats. After all you're mine, Sarla," Asmodious smiled with teeth, his canines lengthened just as both my bottom and top ones had. The storm outside finally let loose pelting rain and hail the size of golf balls. Some managed to fly through the windows and to the floor, catching what little light left outside and shining clear like the window glass. The lit torches from the corridoors spat fire spasmodically and hissed like flustered cats. The sink facet in the bathroom split in half, sending jet streams of water in all directions. The lightbulbs burst and electricity cackled from the exposed outlets. I watched as the walls and room itself slowly began to be consumed in darkness. The shadows on the walls and the floor melted together into one and began to rise and make themselves corporal hands that reached hungrily for the overly enthused demon before me.

"Sarla!" Vergil's hand came to grab my shoulder, but his attempt to revive my senses had come too late. The burning fire in my shoulders stabbed from beneath the skin and slashed open it's escape. This time I didn't double over in agony though it was close to what I wanted to do. No, I stood, feeling the soft touch of feathers as they fled from my body. The two great wings spanned nearly from wall to wall, as the smaller set of second wings- half their length and mass- came to shield my body. My fingers bled and stung as my nails lengthened and sharpened. My head pounded relentlessly with a dull, aching, and just as equally agonizing pain. Something broke skin and I felt an extra weight towards the back of my head.

"So this is what Father meant when he said you weren't complete! Complete or not, I think it's safe to say I came unprepared-" His voice was cut off by a choking gurgle. One of the shadow hands had coiled its fingers around his throat and another wrung his right wrist, twisting it in such a carnal fashion that any other time I probably would have hurled at the sound of the bones and flesh tearing and breaking. His sword clattered heavily on the ground and his blood curdling outcry was like the offspring between a roar and a scream. The torches that had been hissing in the hallways sent their flames to my left hand. I raised it, pointing my index finger at his neck. The flames struck out from my finger, slithered around his throat, and tightened like a constricter around its prey. His angry screams were silenced once again, and the shadow hand that had loosened earlier, retightened again. Asmodious' strangled words, though intended as a threat, held no power to them anymore, "Take... your... bastarghd! ...Cleaherly... thisssss... form... isn't ... enoughhhh!"

The crazy, mad, yellow eyes never tore from mine; until the moment his body burst to gold light and then fell to dust. Nero, before hitting the ground, landed safely in the arms of his father. Asmodious was gone, but my body still felt the eagerness of fight. The shadows had crawled back, the storm had settled to a gentle breeze, softly pushing the curtains. The hallway's torches had settled back into their warm glow. The sink still whipped water about, but despite the reclaimed calm, my wings hadn't fallen away so quickly as they usually did. My nails had retracted, but that was all.

"The coward didn't even come in person. He sent a copycat," Vergil kicked the clone Asmodious' dusty leftovers as if it would satisfy him. He was holding Nero protectively to his chest, "shhh"ing him like a normal parent would. The odd part was that it suited him. Slowly Nero's screams reverted to light whimpers and coos.

"No wonder he didn't resist," I said.

Vergil looked at me, probably habit from hearing the disapointment in my voice. A grin threatened to seep through his always carefully kept facade, "You really do see something new everyday,"

I realized he was staring at my head. My wings folded as I ran to the full length mirror which had miraculously remained intact, and saw what he meant. Protruding out of the back sides of my head were two foot long gold horns tipped at the end with silver, "I have fucking horns!"

"Yes,"

"And they're coming out of my fucking head!"

"Yes,"

"Make them go away!" I whined.

He smiled, walking over to Nero's crib, which had been knocked over and turned it upright with one hand and laid Nero in it. He took me by the arm, pulling me and all four wings to him, "Go ahead and drink. It's fastest that way,"

"You just want me to bite you," I scoffed.

"So do you," He countered,

Without further thought I hurled myself at him, knocking us both to the bed. My teeth sunk into the warm inviting flesh of his neck. Delicious. The first mouthful that fell down my own throat was enough to set my transformation in action. The weight of the horns dissapeared almost immediately, and slowly I felt my wings vanish into nothing. Thoughtlessly my hands wondered aimlessly over his body and he made no move to resist, not that I would have expected him to. When the bloodlust proved unfullfilling I released his neck from my jaws, instead licking the bite wound, lapping up all traces of blood until there were only four pink puncture wounds. I was already straddling him, and pulled the black shirt over his head before pushing him back down into the bed. I felt his groin harden and began to rock my hips over it, sliding back and forth as I leaned over him savoring every inch of his corded body.

...

On the few number of times that I'd let her drink from me it had been purely out of the need to suppress the dark devil that dwelled within her. Only the last time had I really recieved any form of pleasure from it, and it was humiliating to say the least; like I was some kind of piece of meat that was at her disposal. I'd always been the one in control, so I'd thought. I'd always led when it came to intimacy. Whenever I embraced her the desire to pin her down and make her scream my name because I'd drove her crazy, would always take hold. I wanted her to think nothing but me, feel nothing but me, see nothing but me. She was mine and no one else's. Not my brother's. And certainly not her's! That fiend Asmodious, her own brother, even wanted her.

Now, as she was taking of shirt and grinding the part of me that ached the most, I could do nothing. She was in control, and I had become completely powerless against her. At first I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and flip her over and under me and take back the power, but...

"But you don't love me." My thoughts had roamed back the argument we'd had not even a half hour ago. Sarla was never insecure. She was always confident, as a child, and as the woman she'd grown into. The longer she stayed with me, the more I saw her vulnerable side. How much had been chipped away at her by me no less. The woman I'd thought to be indestructable in all aspects of the body, heart, and mind, I watched become unsure of the ground she stood. I didn't understand why it mattered in whatever way it did to me. I couldn't argue my fondness of her. In the dark, twisted world that had adopted me and torn away all that I had and was, she had waltzed in, wild, indominable as the sun itself, and given back some of what I had had and been. The empty, unconcerned abyss that had taken the place of my heart after Mother's death, didn't feel quite so hollow and light anymore. It wasn't full, but it wasn't empty either. She had done this to me. The world didn't matter to me, it hadn't for a while, but she did. Nero did. My son. She hadn't just restored some of what I'd lost as a child, she'd even given me what I'd never had and never expected to have in all my life. I was a father to my son. I was a lover to her. She'd called herself a fuck buddy.

Hearing her say it, I'd almost forgotten the feeling of guilt, but it had rose unbidden into my throat, and come out of my mouth as protests. When she'd asked me why I hadn't gone to investigate the seal I'd almost blurted without thinking what I hadn't realized until then. It had dawned on me so suddenly that I couldn't tell her for fear that something terrible would happen if I did. I'd almost told her the words that would have truly made her mine and myself hers.

I love you.

Those three, annoyingly truthful words, ricocheted around in my head until with all the urgency and need in my body I pulled her face to mine and smothered her lips with my own; the sweet taste of blood still lingering on her lips. She responded in awkward confusion. Even without my having to tell her, she had surely already read me through my aura.

"I love you," She whispered between kisses, her lips quivered against my own and her body began to tremble. She held back tears, some persistant liquid spilled over the corners of her eyes. Helpless against my body's will, I kissed them away and just took her in my arms. She didn't fight anymore and cried. I could make her mine later. Obviously what she needed now was to cry. Before I would have scowled and told her shutup, how different things were now, "Please," She said through a breathy shiver, "All I ask of you ... is to not leave me,"

Idiot, "We'll see,"

"Your pride is really a pain in the ass," She scoffed with a smile.

"Probably," I grinned and kissed her forehead.