Chapter Text
Jeesh, Dante thought as he hung up his coat near the door. I've dealt with less tension than when Vergil caught me spending eight thousand on that coat. He could feel something going on, his first inkling was that his nephew didn't run up to greet him, like he usually did.
He checked in the living room, where Nero usually would be playing with his toys, or reading one of his books, but no dice. He wasn't in the kitchen grabbing a snack, (although Dante didn't let that stop him from grabbing a dill pickle from the jar), and he wasn't in his bedroom. It took a few minutes, but he finally found the kid in his father's study.... doing homework. Okay, something was definitely wrong. Nero might be as bright as a button like his dad, but he really inherited his uncle's complete disinterest in doing any schoolwork out of school. His father was constantly badgering Nero to just get the work done, and he then could play. But Vergil was gone on a job, and would not be home for several hours yet. And you, while you encouraged Nero to finish his homework before supper, never forced the issue, as long as it was done before bed.
You were sitting nearby on the couch, frowning at your laptop. Odds are you were doing that business stuff for the bookstore, but the fact you didn't even notice him stride into the room, that meant you were heavily invested in whatever you looking at.
Only at the last second did you notice his approach, jerked and slammed the laptop down, far too quickly. That was puzzling.
“Oh, Dante!” You smiled, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. “Didn't expect you home so soon!”
“Easy there sunshine,” Dante responded, deciding not to pry. After all, it could be that you were ordering some steamy literature for your store or something. “You do know that it's almost five-thirty, right? Didn't expect you to be still doing work at this time....and definitely not the kid either,” he ruffled Nero's hair. His nephew also was in his own little world, doing some multiplication questions in a workbook, and flinched at his uncle's friendly touch.
“That late already? I really ought to start up supper then...any suggestions, you two? And no” you gave a pointed glance at Dante, “not pizza”
He gave a fake grumpy hmmph, and crossed his arms as if he was an overgrown four year old, when Nero timidly said “I...I like that pasta dish you make, the one with the peppers and the shrimp and the creamy sauce and the Tortoise noodles”
“Tortellini, Nero” you corrected, “and unfortunately I don't have shrimp, but I've got some chicken breast thawed out, we can use that, and you can tell me which type you prefer.”
The kid brightened at that and nodded his head enthusiastically, “Yeah!”
You patted his shoulder, and picking up your laptop, left the room to make the dish. While Vergil was a great cook, the past several months since you arrived had introduced both Dante and Nero to a cornucopia of new dishes, some cheap as chips, others more extravagant. The price to pay for such a delightful bounty for both nephew and uncle? Washing dishes. Dante swore that when Vergil cooked, or helped you cook, he would use as many dishes as possible.
Inwardly groaning, he felt a tug on his shirt. Looking down, he saw his nephew, still sitting in the desk chair, pen in hand.
“Uncle Dante” he said, hesitatingly, “Do you like her?” This was an odd question, even for the ever inquisitive Nero.
“Sunshine? Of course I do. I mean, I like her as a friend, not like your dad likes her.” he clarified, feeling a bit warm. “Why, do you like her? I know she loves you.”
It was Nero's turn to blush, “Yeah, I do... It's just...” he paused, trying to figure out how to put his feelings into words, “Her apartment is almost ready for her to go back to, and I was wondering if she... she was...”
“Well, why don't you ask her?” Dante responded, slapping his nephew on his back, a bit too roughly, as Nero nearly fell out of his chair. “I wouldn't mind her staying, and I'm pretty sure your dad would love her to stay,” To keep her safe, Dante thought, but didn't say. Ever since you came back to Devil May Cry from the hospital, Vergil had been....diligent.... in accompanying you anytime you left the business. And even when he wasn't available, he'd have Dante accompany you, with the added threat that should a hair on your head be harmed, blood or not, his brother would pay the price. You'd rolled your eyes, and had gritted your teeth at his over protectiveness, but because as much as you were annoyed about it, even happy go lucky Dante knew the price if the defenses slipped. They'd almost failed once, Vergil intended them not to slip again.
At least, some compromises had been made. Vergil, with the help of a witch's coven, had put up anti-demonic wards around the bookstore, the park, Nero's school. Anywhere you or Nero could expect to be left alone for a period of time. Dante's place was already covered in the damned things, and he half expected Vergil to plaster your apartment with more wards than Dante had stab wounds. That is...if you went back to your place.
On Dante's suggestion, Vergil was also training you in self defense. It wouldn't always save you, if another demonic attack happened, but it would buy you enough time to escape, or allow him to save you. There would be no repeats of last time. To show you his sincerity, he'd given you Beowulf, since you seemed to be proficient enough in fisticuffs (from your younger days, when you'd had to fight bullies, you'd confided in Dante one time), and had himself or Dante training you on nearly a daily basis. You were still no where near as deadly as the brothers, but you showed promise. Although, when Vergil sparred with you, Dante made sure to give you two a wide berth, as your fights could lead to some....intimate situations.
Another tug of his sleeve brought him out of his thoughts.
“Uncle Dante?” Nero asked, and he steeled himself for another uncomfortable question, “what's seven times three?”
Math he thought, My least favourite subject. Perhaps uncomfortable personal questions would have been better.
*****
Dinner was a delicious fare, as per usual, with both Dante and Nero fighting over on who got seconds first. There was still a bit left over for Vergil, for when he finally showed up. The final consensus was a draw. Nero liked the chicken version, and while it was good, Dante preferred the shrimp. But seeing as shrimp was a bit on the expensive side, chicken was an excellent substitute. Strangely enough, the tension he felt earlier was even more intense, as he caught you looking over at your phone, sitting just out of reach on the counter, as Nero took the dishes to the kitchen for the dreaded washing.
“Expecting a call?” he joked, only to immediately regret it by the look on your face.
“Vergil almost always calls to tell me approximately when he'll be back, when he's out late on a job, but he usually calls around five. It's been almost two hours...”
“Well, you know, it might be a busy job,” he offered, despite knowing that this was totally out of character for his anal-retentive brother. What Dante had learned in the past eight years was that Vergil was happiest when everything happened according to schedule. Things like an infant Nero, with his irregular sleeping habits, put his twin on edge. Vergil, even when very busy, would have sent a text message or something. A cold feeling crept up the base of his skull. “Have you called him yet?” a stupid question, of course, but he had to ask the most basic questions first.
You sighed, not out of annoyance, but out of worry, “I did, and his phone went straight to voice mail. I left him a message, but nothing. I mean,” you said hopefully, “perhaps he's a bit busy, and doesn't want distractions, but I can't help but worry, he's not usually like this.” You were right, Vergil was predictable as Dante's pizza delivery order.
“Listen, I'll pull up his contacts, see if I can get a hold of him via the client. Might talk to to Morrison, too,if he got the job from him.”
“Oh would you, please?” you answered happily, although the joy sounded shallow. “Listen, I'll help Nero out with dishes tonight. And if he gets angry with you,” you added, “tell him I asked you to check up on him.”
Ordinarily, getting out of dish duty was a cause for celebration, but this evening, until he heard his brother ripping into him for disturbing him on a job, Dante couldn't feel elated.
He made his way to the antique desk, and opened up the drawer with client info. He had to admit, Verg's way of organizing the case files was leagues better than his old way (which was 'Toss them into a pile and let the Devil sort them out')
Referencing the dates, he found the file for young lady named Angela Salvador. Apparently, she'd inherited a block of townhouses near the industrial area from her elderly great-uncle, who dabbled in the dark arts, it was rumoured.
And of course, now that he wasn't keeping his end of the bargain with demonic forces, being dead and all, the demons decided to claim squatters rights on the premises. Ms. Salvador needed them 'evicted' in order to remodel them into minimalist lofts and probably sell at inflated prices to up and coming yuppies, you know, the usual start of gentrification. There was a contact number, scribbled hastily in Vergil's flawless handwriting, and so he punched in the number on the phone.
There wasn't even a ring tone. On the other end, all he could hear was the saccharine recording: We're sorry, this number does not exist, please hang up and try again.
Dante's mouth went dry... Could it possibly been a mistake? No, Vergil was very exact. And he would have had to call the number to arrange payment and get info, so the number had to have existed a short while ago.
Okay, next step with Morrison. If there was ever a guy who knew the ins and outs about anything remotely demonic in this city, it was him. Maybe he passed the info to Vergil. At the very least, he would have heard about the job, seeing as that was what Devil May Cry paid him for.
A couple of rings “'Yello” he heard the whisky smooth voice on the other end.
“Hey Morrison, it's Dante..”
“Bit late for you to call, there Dante. I'm already on my second drink of the night.”
“It's not about a job, well” he furrowed his brow “it's not about a job for me. Vergil took a job from some lady named Angela Salvador, something about some abandoned townhouses in the south east district, near the old tire factory. You ever heard of any demon trouble over there?”
Dante could hear the faint sound of a lighter, and slow intake of breath, indicating that Morrison had lit up one of his ever present cigars.
“Can't say that I have... that whole area is owned by one of those damned bank equity places that bought out the factory. Odds are they're planning to level the place and renovate into hoity toity condos or somethin'” The puffing stopped “You okay there, Dante? Usually you'd be making a joke about that sort of thing”
“It's nothing,” Dante lied, his free palm pressed into his face “Just checking out some leads, sorry to bother you, go back to enjoying your night.”
“You too kiddo,” and with that, the line went dead. Dante's dinner, so delicious just an hour ago, threatened to escape the confines of his stomach. He stared at the piece of paper, reading the address of the supposed townhouses. As much as he didn't want to admit it.....
Vergil had walked straight into a trap.
Best case scenario, he knew what he was getting into, and was springing the trap on purpose. But, as looked at the paper, he didn't see any indication that his elder brother had treated it any differently than a regular old job. Which meant...
I gotta walk into the same damn trap.
While slowly putting the address and info into his jeans pocket, he looked to see the small portrait of his mother, still with her gentle smile at him. “Don't worry mom,” he murmured “I'll get him back in one piece.”
Picking up his guns, Rebellion, and his coat off the rack, he almost made it out the door, when he heard his nephew.
“Uncle Dante, where you going?”
“Just out to meet up with your dad, looks like he needs a little bit of help” It wasn't a lie, but man, did he feel like shit for saying it.
You came up from behind, dish towel still in hand. “Is everything alright?” You asked, looking concerned.
“Everything's gonna be fine, Sunshine, we'll be back here before you know it” he gave both you and Nero his trademark finger guns (that he totally did not feel), and crossed the threshold outside. Once outside, he let out a deep breath that he'd not realized he'd been holding in.
Everything is going to be alright, you're going to find Vergil, drag him back home, and let Sunshine rip into him for making her worry about him. And then you're going to make fun of him for falling for such a stupid trap. Constantly. Until Nero goes to college or something.
But really, had their positions been reversed, would it have been really so different? A job like that sounded perfectly reasonable to Dante. Had it been him manning the desk today, he'd probably be trapped in some hellhole (he hoped it wasn't a literal hellhole) and Vergil would be saving him, admonishing him for doing something so stupid.
As he revved up his bike, he made a quick scan of the area. No demons within a decent radius, which was a relief. Besides, the wards would hold back everything. It was going to be alright. Taking one more look at the address on the file, he flew out like a bat out of hell.
****(
To his dismay, when he reached the address, he couldn't sense any demonic presence at all. That seemed odd. Both he and Vergil had been dodging demonic plots for nearly two decades. A bitter thought went through his mind. Had they moved him? But even then, there should be some residue, some slime that demons always left, like slugs after a rainstorm. But nothing....except...
Yamato..
There it was, laying on the sidewalk, and Dante's heart plummeted. There was some sort of humanoid creature next to it, unmoving, and as he approached cautiously (he had to resist every urge in his body to run up and take the weapon, it could be a trap.) he realized it wasn't a humanoid, but a human...well, what remained of a human. Think of what would happen if you took a human and shoved them in a beef jerky oven. For several days. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened, some poor sod had tried to pick up Yamato, and well...Yamato was a clingy bitch. He'd only held her a brief moment during the fight with Arkham back in the day, and even then, she complained the whole time that he wasn't Vergil. Think what she would do to someone without Sparda's bloodline....
Just as he approached the weapon some sort of glowing knife attached to a chain launched out of the darkness, and had Dante been a second slower, it would have impaled his arm. Instead, it lodged into the brick wall behind him, followed by the sound of panicked swearing. The swearing got worse when he took Rebellion and cut the damn thing in half, causing the entire chain to shatter in a billion shards, as if it was under some sort of supernatural tension.
A voice called in the darkness “Binding has failed! I repeat: Binding has failed! Pull out and meet at rendezvous point!”
Oh hell no. This little game had gone quite far enough, thank you very much. Now Dante realized that it wasn't demons behind this at all. It was totally, 100 percent, organic, homo sapiens. Now it made sense why the ever wary Vergil had fallen for this. But why humans? To the best of his knowledge, neither him or his brother had any issues or fallings out with people. And it seemed far too organized, too planned to be some client who felt they'd been stiffed.
Didn't matter, Dante wanted answers, and more importantly:
He wanted his brother back.
He triggered, and almost immediately, he felt his senses expand. Thank the Almighty that this was a deserted part of town, making it quite simple to tell where and who these assholes were. Five people. all human, and all well armed....and all in the same building together, half a block away. If he had Vergil's abilities, he's warp in and slice and dice 'em up like they were those paper snowflakes Nero made at school. But, he wasn't, so he'd have to do it the old fashioned way. A burst of super speed later, and he'd bashed in the already structurally weak foundation, and immediately switched to Royal Guard, blocking several dozen bullets that immediately came his way. The few that made it through stung like a bitch, but thanks to trigger mode, were shrugged off fairly easily.
Once they'd emptied their magazines, Dante took over the conversation. “Okay, I'll admit busting down the wall like that wasn't the most polite thing to do, but we have a liiiiiitle problem here. You guys have something,” he took his claws and pulled out a bullet embedded in his chest like it was an annoying splinter, “that doesn't belong to you. I'd reeeeeally appreciate it, if you'd return it....or hell” he spat out a bullet that had been lodged in his throat, “just tell me where it is. Then you can go on your merry way, and I'll pretend you guys didn't try to spearfish me.” His brother wouldn't have liked being referred to as a thing, but Dante wasn't in the mood for caring. Had he been Vergil, there would have never been this conversation, just a neatly stacked pile of severed body parts. But Dante always tried diplomacy first. Honey, Flies, Vinegar, you know, that sort of thing.
The response was the sound of guns being reloaded, and a horizontal hailstorm of bullets, but now easier to block, as they seemed aimed incorrectly, and was that the smell of human piss? Yup.
Welp, time for Vergil's method.
Dante had never been eager to kill humans. Arkham was an exception, but to be fair, that piece of scum was barely human to begin with. So even now, with his brother's life on the line, Dante tried hard not think about what he was doing. Only when the last man fell, did Dante resume his natural form, and realize he was back to square one. Maybe a bit of torture might have helped him out, but even with the situation so dire, Dante was loathe to take that step. But now he had no witnesses, and the bodies, with their unfamiliar uniforms looked incredibly alien to him. He'd have to go home, research, call up contacts, and who the hell had time for that? Not Dante.
But wait...Yamato.
She still lay there, guarded by the unfortunate sentinel, which gave him an idea. It was a crazy idea, one that probably wouldn't work. But, he wasn't going to go home to tell you and Nero that Vergil had been kidnapped. No, he was going to drag his brother home, and if he had to kill more people to do it? He gritted his teeth, and picked up the katana.
To say she was pissed was the understatement of the century, no the millennium. A sharp pain passed through his forearm for a brief second as she attempted to beef jerkify him, until she realized who he was, and then the pain subsided to a mere annoyance.
“Listen babe, I want to find Verg as much as you do, so... I need your help.” The pain turned into a questioning vibration. “You know where he is right? You can feel him? I need you to make me a portal to.. approximately where he is” the vibrating stopped. “I'll get him out of wherever he's stuck in, and give you two a happy reunion. Deal?”
Yamato remained silent for a few moments, and Dante feared she'd been ignoring him, when two sharp buzzes indicated her agreement.
Dante held up the sword, a pale mimicry of the elegance of his brother, and fingered the multicoloured sageo for good luck, and with two swipes, opened a portal up.
Here goes nothing.....