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No Matter What They Say	By : Demonized Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 740 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry, nor do I make any money off of this work.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 1
- 2
Having been in the Underworld before (for a few-ish years) Dante feels like he knows what it should look like and it really shouldn't look like his childhood bedroom. Dante also knows that the Underworld has quite a distinct smell to it, one that's somewhere in between a burning trash heap and something that's been long dead, and that is noticeably missing from whatever this might be. Definitely not the Underworld, Dante thinks to himself as he takes a good long look at the achingly familiar surroundings. Maybe a dream of some sort but that notion is quickly dissolved with a hard pinch to his forearm, which also assures him that he is most certainly awake…and he is very much alone.
Dante frowns as he turns, doing a complete check of the room—which isn't changing in the slightest—looking for his brother who should have been right behind him, only Vergil is decisively not here. Not here in Dante's bedroom at least. It takes Dante a moment to realize that he can sense Vergil—faintly, like his senses have been muted—and that Vergil is heading closer to him.
If there is one thing that Dante can be certain of—aside from the fact that this is not the Underworld—it's that Vergil has to be behind this, whatever it is. Vergil had grown the Qliphoth at the doorstep of their childhood home after all—the fact that he had been split into two separate entities be damned—so why wouldn't he do something like this? The question is why though? Dante is sure that they had finally started working out their differences—with a bit of a push (bitch slap to the face) from Nero—so this feels quite like a betrayal and it hurts. It angers him.
Dante tries to call on Devil Sword Dante as he whirls around to face his bedroom door, right in time for Vergil to burst through it, only his Devil Arm doesn't come. It simply isn't and he so shocked by that that it takes him more than a few seconds to realize that there's something else very wrong with this picture. Namely that Vergil doesn't look anything like Dante remembers not even a few minutes ago, back when they had both been on top of the Qliphoth. In fact, Vergil looks like a kid and Dante… well, it certainly isn't very hard for him to figure out that he's the same height as Vergil. That could only mean one thing.
"What the fuck did you do this time?" Dante shouts as he launches himself at Vergil, not caring that he doesn't have his Devil Sword Dante or any of his Devil Arms. Dante knows that his fists will be more than enough to beat Vergil's ass and he certainly doesn't care that they look like kids. He's not giving it any thought as he manages to just catch Vergil on his chin.
Vergil twists out of the way with a snarl that is reflexive, his eyes flashing with wariness as he takes a step back from Dante to put some space between them. "I don't know all that you apparently think I'm capable of, Dante, but something of this caliber isn't within my capabilities," Vergil states lowly with a bit of a growl to his voice. It sounds a little weird because Vergil definitely sounds the way that he looks, which seems to be about seven years old, but there is no mistaking that tone. That is one hundred percent Vergil. "And why on earth would I do something that would affect us in such a manner, little brother?"
On some deeper level, Dante knows that Vergil couldn't have done this, wouldn't have done something like this, but after everything Dante has been through because of Vergil—how Vergil had disappeared on him right before they had turned eighteen, the whole debacle with Temen-ni-gru, the heartache of Mallet Island and finally the shit show that had been the damned Qliphoth—Dante isn't letting go of his hurt and his anger so easily. "Us? There is no us, Vergil. You saw to that when you fucking left me."
"I didn't want to leave you, Dante." There is a flicker of something in Vergil's eyes as he speaks, a pain that Dante doesn't want to acknowledge. "But I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you."
"Like you ever gave a damn about me, you fucking asshole!" Dante hisses angrily at Vergil, twenty-five years' worth of hurt marking his voice. "All you cared about was getting more power to-"
"-protect you! I did everything for you, Dante! All of it so that I could keep you safe from Mundus and every other demon that would have hunted us down because of who we are!" Vergil actually raises his voice for once and Dante is so stunned by it that it takes him a few seconds to process Vergil's words, to process that in his own fucked up way that Vergil really does care for Dante. "You have always been my everything, Dante, and I regret all that you had to go through because I hadn't been strong enough to keep you safe."
The silence that follows is disconcerting, absolutely deafening in its totality, while Dante stares at Vergil—still processing Vergil's words, how broken he had sounded, and the way that his expression had twisted with such remorse. It is so uncharacteristic of Vergil—just like the yelling—that Dante's anger slips away, his own expression becoming stricken as all he is left with is confusion and that painful, aching hurt.
"What is going on in here, boys?" The voice that breaks the silence has Dante's blood running cold and Vergil looks likewise affected, his face paling rapidly while panic blooms in his eyes. Neither of them moves because with that voice comes an old, familiar presence that feels absolutely suffocating. "Vergil." Vergil flinches at the sound of his own name, his eyes going wide while that panic becomes full-blown fear. "Dante." Dante flinches as well, a pit forming in his stomach as he turns to look at what should be impossible.
"Well shit." Dante can almost feel the grimace that Vergil gives while he stares at their very much alive father. Sparda scowls as he looks at each of them in turn, his gaze sharply cutting back to Dante for his choice in words but Dante currently doesn't give a damn because Sparda should be dead. Or vanished. Or whatever the hell it was that had happened to him. "You know what, Verge, you are absolutely right. You would never do something like this. Mundus, however, would."
The temperature in Dante's bedroom—this is looking to be more and more legit, which scares the hell out of Dante—plummets while their should-be-dead-or-something-like-it father narrows his eyes at the mention of Mundus' name, his human guise dropping away. Within the blink of any eye, Sparda has them both held aloft by the backs of their necks, his fangs bared with a thunderous growl. "Who are you and what have you done to my children, demons?!"
Dante thinks that maybe, just maybe, it had been a bad idea to bring up Mundus if this is how their father is going to react. Still, he's a little glad that Sparda simply didn't kill them outright—that really would have sucked—and is simply accusing them of being body snatchers or something like that. "So, uh, this might sound kinda crazy but we're definitely your kids…from about thirty-five years in the future, possibly thirty-six. Depends on how close it is to our eighth birthday."
Sparda focuses his bright scarlet and pupil-less gaze on Dante as he speaks, which is admittedly very unnerving, and his demeanor seems to calm a little. Dante knows that it won't stay that way when it gets out that both Sparda and Eva have been dead for just as long if this is really and truly what he thinks it might be. There's no sense in delaying the inevitable, however, and one good look at Vergil tells Dante that his brother probably isn't going to be doing much of the talking.
Dante gets it, he doesn't want to admit to dear old dad that he had killed Vergil—granted that Vergil had been under Mundus control because Vergil had been too fucking stubborn to ask Dante for help and had failed to mention any of his plans back when they'd been in an actual fucking relationship—but he's gonna bite that bullet. "I'm not a hundred percent certain as to what happened but you vanished on a mission a few weeks before we turn eight and Mundus sent a horde of demons to attack Red Grave City the day after our birthday. Mom was killed in the attack and we had gotten separated."
Sparda is slow to set them down, his grip on their necks loosening only for his hands to shift around to a shoulder on each of them. The Legendary Dark Knight drops down onto a knee, kneeling almost between them, then gathers them both to his chest. It's not something that Dante was expecting, not from a demon, but then this is their father who has proven that he is unlike any other demon.
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No Matter What They Say