Chapter Text
Though his brother's pride normally prohibited otherwise, Dante had arrived at the Devil May Cry offices with an unconscious Vergil by his side, and a blood trail that stretched for miles. After what seemed to be an eternity, the Qliphoth finally fell, and they figured their final chance of escape fell with it.
That is until Dante remembered a key detail that seemed to slip both their minds at the time: the Yamato could open a portal to and from the demon world, which meant escaping was as easy as two strokes of the blade.
Vergil seemed deadset on continuing their combat, however. They had once again tied, and he demanded another tiebreaker.
"How about we make this a little more spicy?" Dante twirled his namesake around, a grin creeping up.
"And how do you propose we do that?"
"Yamato...you remember what it can do right?" He pantomimed opening a portal with his own blade. "If I win the next one, you get us outta here and back to Red Grave."
Vergil looked over at the sword, eyes widening. It was one of the incredibly rare times that he let out a laugh. "And here I was so caught in making up for lost time..."
"So how's about it, big bro?" He held his fists up, punching the air.
"Deal." He nudged the sword from its sheath.
Patty's shrill screams could shatter windows, had there been any left intact. She berated them both as he dragged their bodies along, upset that they had ruined her freshly mopped floors.
Trish, keen to the sound, had followed soon after. Flying through the door, she readied a bolt of lightning at would-be attackers. The scene she came across caused her to pause, holding back a laugh as she did.
"You left us all alone without even a call! A letter? Anything at all! We thought you died!" Patty thwacked him in the head with a dustpan, tears quickly forming in her eyes.
Lady came soon after, Kalina Ann 2 aimed squarely at their heads. "What the hell...?"
Dante could barely acknowledge the goings-on around him, opting instead to gently place his older brother's body on a nearby couch. As he turned to the others, now dumbfounded, he gave a small smile before falling forward, unconscious before he hit the ground.
Vergil was the first to wake up, to the feeling of something soft grazing his cheeks. Opening his eyes, he was assailed by a feather duster. Swatting it away, he heard someone gasp and something hit the ground. Before he could discern the source, they were gone.
Patty returned to the room, with an exhausted Nero in tow. "I-I think I woke him up!"
"Where...am I...?" Vergil gently rubbed his eyes.
"The Devil May Cry office..." Nero pulled a nearby chair and placed it by the sofa on which Vergil sat. "How...how did you guys even get back anyway? I thought you guys would be stuck in hell forever."
"I can answer that," Dante said as he sat up, yawning. He had been laid on the floor near the jukebox. "Vergil lost a bet, and we were able to use Yamato to slice a portal out of here."
"Dante!" Patty yelled and ran to embrace him. Standing up, he held a hand out, pushing Patty's head back. "Hey!" Her arms helplessly wiggled towards him.
"Anyway, after we got out of there, we were pretty damn tired. I guess hell makes everything hurt a bit less, I dunno. Vergil bowed out before we could get here." He cracked his neck. "You're a lot heavier than I remembered, Verg."
The older twin glared at him. "I see." He stood up, determined to walk out the door, but his legs failed him, causing him to fall back onto the couch. "Damn it..."
"Are Lady and Trish home?' Patty and Nero shook their heads.
"They're out on a job, but they should be back sometime soon." Nero grabbed a magazine off the floor and began mindlessly thumbing through it. "They weren't too happy to see you two though."
Dante laughed. "Naw, I didn't think so."
After all was said and done, once Trish and Lady returned, they were convinced to let Dante and Vergil stay for a few days. Patty was the one who vouched for Dante the loudest.
After a couple of weeks, he began to feel like he was intruding. The deed to the place was theirs (and Morrison's) now. Before, he wouldn't have even given it a second thought, but after escaping, he felt like there was so much left for him out there. He thought he would be stuck in hell for the rest of his and Vergil's lives, but being given a second chance with everyone caused him to pause.
With all that happened in the past few months (as far as he remembered), there was a single loose end, one he wanted to resolve before this all happened. He would have done it sooner, but the mission was always his first priority.
"Dante!" A familiar voice woke him from his nap, one Sunday afternoon. "I didn't think Lady and Trish were pulling my leg, but I had to see it with my very own eyes..."
"If you're here about a job, I'll let the ladies know you stopped by." A magazine rested on his face, and he didn't seem too keen on taking it off.
"Too good for my jobs nowadays?" Morrison laughed.
With a huff, he tossed the magazine aside. "Just pretend I'm not here, pretend me and Vergil never got out and nothing's changed."
"45's pretty young to retire, Dante..."
"I'd say I've earned it..."
"Well...let the girls know if they need some more cash, I'm just a call away." He placed his hat on his chest. "You enjoy yourself, you hear?"
"No promises." He smirked. "But I have a feeling we'll be in touch again soon...it's time for me to claim some of those benefits you promised."
"It's a date then!" Morrison laughed as he walked out the door.
With nearly everything resolved in Red Grave, there was just one more issue he needed to take care of. After a lot of convincing, and just a bit more bloodshed, he brought Vergil over to Kyrie and Nero. Unlike Dante, he was taking a lot longer to recover, most likely from his experiment with Yamato. Nero wasn't too pleased, but Kyrie seemed delighted.
She brought out some tea for the three of them, pouring it out a ceramic turtle-shaped teapot, placing a small plate of sugar cubes next to the cups. "Does anyone want milk?"
"It's fine, Kyrie, thanks." Nero gave her a quick peck and the cheek, and smiled as she took her leave, his glance lingering until Dante cleared his throat.
Vergil placed a single cube in his tea before stirring it, paying no mind to the other two.
"So...how long do you two plan on crashing? Space is...kinda limited. Nico's got her van so it's not as cramped, but we barely have space for each other, especially with the kids here."
"Well...the plan is we stay here, until he's got enough strength to take care of himself. After that, I've got some business to take care of, so we'll be out of your hair soon."
Nero looked at Vergil, who looked at him briefly, then averted his gaze, with a small smile. "Unfortunately, Dante was the victor of another wager..."
"Listen...as long as you keep your shit tidy, and you two don't fuckin' brawl in the backyard...then fine. Stay as long as you need to, but not another second more." Nero knocked back the tea in a single gulp, despite it still being somewhat hot.
"And you do not disrespect Kyrie." His eyes began to glow, and his voice began to layer.. "I will throw you both back into hell myself if I hear you've upset her."
"Hoo, intense..." Dante plucked a sugar cube and popped it into his mouth. "Don't worry about us, kid."
Much to his surprise, about a week later, Dante had left. With a wave, a suitcase, and Dr. Faust resting on his head, he slipped out the door before Kyrie could make some coffee for the road.
Nero sprinted out after him. "Hey, old man! What about Vergil?"
"Take care of him for me until I get back, I owe ya one, kid!" He sprinted backwards up the hill, waving the hat.
"Hey! What the fuck, wait!" But by the time he made it to the top, Dante was long gone.
It took some pulling strings, some phone calls, and a lot more nagging at Morrison, but he finally managed to catch a ship to Dumary Island.
Even thought it couldn't have been more than a couple months, it felt like an eternity since he had made his way there. He stood at the ship's deck, resting with arms crossed against the railing. Seagulls were crying, waves crashed against the bow, and the sun's light was only beginning to shine, despite no sign of it peeking over the horizon. Dante took a sharp inhale, the salty air filling his lungs. It was cleansing, after the stench of the Qliphoth's rotten trash clogging up his airways for the entirety of his mission.
Normally, there was always someone on these vessels wanting to strike up a conversation, or even worse, want to play a game of poker. Luckily for him, the only others on the ship, aside from its crew, were a few strangers that kept to themselves.
Not long after, the ship made it to port.
Whenever he dreamed, no matter what happened, he always saw the village. With tall, warped. cramped buildings, a street that seemed to stretch on forever, covered by a thick fog, and a dulled light from a rising sun, he wondered why anyone would want to live in such a soul-sucking place.
Stepping onto the harbor, he remembered the discussion he had with Matier only a few paces away. All he could do was play dumb and distant for her, as he wasn't a fan of someone matchmaking on his behalf, even if they meant well. As he made his plans, he was tempted to let her know beforehand, as to not be rude, but he loathed the thought of Matier tempering her expectations before he had the chance to speak to her.
Walking around, he noticed the village was more populated than he last remembered, with actual people running around, a few market stalls being set up, and small children playing in the more open areas, some playing ball, others playing jump rope. A few glances were thrown his way, and a few whispers came from nosy old ladies, but no one seemed to bother him otherwise.
Though walking down the main streets was perfectly fine, he chose to dart around into side streets and alleyways, habits from his first time here refusing to go away. Despite that, it took him longer than he expected, and when he finally reached the outskirts of the estate, he heard a voice behind him.
"Oho...a familiar face. And here I thought I'd seen the last of you." He had hoped to reach there without the old woman's interference, but he could only be so lucky.
"You wish..." He smiled as if he had been caught red-handed.
Matier shuffled towards him, pulling her scarf tight as a strong breeze came across. "And here I thought I had scared you off the last time...but maybe you truly are man enough to--"
"With all due respect, granny, I don't need your help with whatever it is you think I'm here for. I just want to talk to her. I didn't have the time to last time, so I'd appreciate if you just let me go on ahead." He didn't enjoy being so open but he figured directness was the only way.
She chuckled, continuing her walk forward. "Even if I had the strength to stop you, I couldn't, not with such a plea."
"Where is she?"
Matier gestured up, a small alcove where the houses came together by the cliff-side. It was once a vantage point for those to see the rest of the village, but had long since been abandoned.
He nodded and turned to make his way up, but before he could, she spoke, her voice softer. "She's a good girl, a strong girl, with a big heart. But...still, be gentle."
He didn't turn back. "Of course."
Lucia couldn't get it out of her head. She could still hear the crack, she could still see the shattered shards, like glitter, from Cerberus. The eruption of smoke, her heart nearly bursting through her rib cage, terrified that it would be the end.
She threw a few jabs, bits of straw falling out of the dummy.
Thought it was foolish of her to think so. Dante had taken out demons much stronger than Balrog, she knew that, if nothing else. Yet, when she couldn't see him in that split second, a feeling in the pit of her stomach screamed when her mouth failed her.
She opened her fists and slapped the straw dummy in frustration, her voice cracking, "Idiot..." Her throat clenched. She was always too weak, she would always fall behind, she always had to be rescued.
In the time between Dante's descent into, and return from Hell, Lucia had been doing her best to get stronger. She had been training day in and day out, whether it was sparring with her makeshift dummies, or taking jobs around the island. Though the bulk of the demons had been driven out by Dante, there were still pockets of them left, and when there weren't, the people still needed protecting. She figured out quickly it wasn't a lucrative job, but it had been enough to sustain her and Matier. While Balrog had been disperesed, she knew she had to get strong enough for whatever else may come, and that she wouldn't need help from anyone ever again.
Giving some distance between her and the dummy, she readied a kick, swinging her leg with all her might. Just as she did, a loud rustle was heard before her.
"Hoo, if you swung that any harder, you might've taken off my head!" Dante caught her leg, giving it a quick pat before lowering it, a grin plastered on his face.
Instinctively, she hopped back, fists up, ready to strike. It took a few moments before she realized it was him. The faded red coat, the stark white platinum hair, the blade's pommel sticking out from his back. She chided herself for not reacting sooner, but there was so much different about him. His hair was much longer, his face more ragged, his bright blue eyes now dulled. It hadn't been that long, but he looked as if he had been through several lifetimes of stress.
Still, she straightened her form, wiping the sweat from her brow. "Dante..."
"And here I almost thought you forgot!" He winked.
It couldn't have been that long, but she looked healthier in comparison. She was covered in a light sheen of sweat, the light bouncing off it giving her a gentle glow. Her bright red hair was up in a tight braid, which was held with a bun. He had grown so accustomed to her outfit of choice, that her black tank top and grey sweats made him think he was mistaken. As he looked into her eyes, bright emeralds, widened in surprise, he knew he wasn't.
Her heart swelled, but something she couldn't quite put her finger on, clouded her joy. So rather than run to embrace him again, as she desperately desired, she kept her distance, walking a half circle around him, grabbing a half-empty water bottle off the ground. "What brings you back here? No major demon has risen during your absence, so..." She trailed off, struggling to even open the bottle.
"Here for fun, not for business." He placed his suitcase on the ground. "Red Grave City's nice and all, but I don't think I took in enough of the sights here. Last I remember, there wasn't much to take in, with whats-his-name warping the island and all." He extended his hand, offering to help.
She turned away from him, finally opening it up and taking a few gulps. "Am I to be your tour guide once more?" It surprised even her how cold she sounded.
"Woah, sensing some bad vibes here, did I come at a bad time?" He crossed his arms, the grin never fading. She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not, it stung either way.
"Did Matier put you up to this....again?" She remembered the conversation they had after Dante had returned to Red Grave City. Matier, without an ounce of shame, mentioned that she had suggested Dante and Lucia spend more...personal time together. She remembered embarrassment bubbling from her chest, the blush coming over her face that the other had misinterpreted. The fact that it was brought up in her absence made it hurt so much more...it was no wonder he had played dumb during their last mission.
"She's a nice old lady, but man she loves sticking her nose in other's business..." He wrinkled his nose. "No, she didn't put me up to anything, I wouldn't let her."
She didn't believe him, she figured this was his way of showing pity. She was a nothing, a nobody, a shell of being, why would he ever care? "Then there is nothing left for you here. We've no jobs that we ourselves cannot handle."
"I can tell!" He placed a foot on the case, resting a hand on his knee. "I didn't mean to interrupt ya, you seemed to be handing yourself against this thing just fine." He gestured at the dummy.
Her nails dug into her palms. "Is that so...?" She crossed her arms. "Stationary targets are all well and good, but I think maybe I should practice on a target with more...life to it." She figured this was as close to him as she could get.
"Oho...? We can have some fun then, if you want." He placed his sword aside, holding his hands up. "But don't go easy on me."
Lucia charged him. Immediately, he fired back with a few blows to keep her distance. She weaved around them, using the small gaps to get some quick gut shots in.
Her facade of indifference began to crack with each successful strike. Already, he could feel some genuine anger behind the blows, and while they wouldn't be enough to do serious damage, he could already begin to feel sore.
The more she successfully countered, the harder her blows became. Not only that, but the speed of her assault increased as well. Dante was beginning to lose the rhythm he built with blocking most of her punches and kicks. Each hit delivered her rage, each deflection channeled her sadness, and combined with her demon power, she hit quickly and relentlessly.
The taunting smile he normally held against an enemy faded quickly, as this seemed less like a friendly spar, and more like she was expressing herself in a way that mere words could not.
He went from taking most of the strikes to parrying all them, each deflected blow opening up a larger and larger window of opportunity. As she took a step back to recover, she saw the shadows of his movements, but it was too late. He charged with his forearm raised, knocking her off balance.
It was such a simple act, and he even did it to make sure he wouldn't hurt her more than he could have, yet in tha moment, something in her activated. Just as he pulled back, he felt something sharp graze his arm. Peeking above it, he saw Lucia in her feathery glory, fingers curled, her wings flapping gently. A talon of hers had barely got him.
"That serious, huh?" He murmured, before activating his Devil Trigger in kind.
This time, she was more strategic in her assault, backing off to fire some ranged attacks as she darted around his summoned swords. She knew if she could outlast him, then she could regain the upper hand, and she was almost right...almost.
Dante normally would have a fun clash between forms, but this was anything but, and he refused anything that could seriously hurt her. "I think it's time for this to end." He called out before a blade materialized, stabbing him in the stomach.
"No!" She cried, flying towards him, arms outstretched.
But before she could reach him, a burst of energy flung her back. As the smoke cleared, something stood before her that was unrecognizable. She took one look at his new form, his own leathery wings outstretched, which doubled hers, teeth as sharp as razors, eyes burning than the hottest of fires, and darted away, speeding off towards the horizon.
He figured this was as good a time to show it off, but it had the opposite reaction he was hoping for. "Hey, wait!" He called out before giving chase, an arm reaching forward, grasping at a specter of where she was.
She weaved past chimneys, not sure of where she was going, but something screamed in her to get away for reasons she couldn't understand. Tears were streaming down already, clouding her vision. He was too powerful, and she was too weak, and she always would be. Before she knew it, she had already neared the island's coast.
Dante was hot on her trail, and flew above the small buildings, rather than around. He too neared the coast, and lowered his altitude to match hers. He wanted to call out again, but also wanted to see how far she'd go. Past the island was nothing but the sea.
As she flew above the sand, in her distress, she realized her Devil Trigger could not maintain itself and deactivated, With that, she fell, careening towards the blue below, arms at her sides, eyes shut tight.
He didn't know why she was acting like this, but he figured he was at fault for it. There was playing dumb, but he felt he missed so much, and what he missed may have been why she fled.
Before she hit the ground, Dante swooped underneath, arms catching her over the water, although in a somewhat awkward position. His own Devil Trigger was quickly running out, so he made a hard turn back, placing her gently on the beach before skidding across the sand.
After catching his breath, he shot up, cracking his fingers. "Whew! That was fun, huh?"
She still lay there, arms now hugging herself. "How many more times..." She mumbled something he couldn't hear from that distance.
"Hm?"
She sat up, dusting the sand off, bringing her knees to her chest. "How many more times are you going to save me? How many more times will you have to come to my rescue before I finally learn?"
For once, he was at a loss for words. There was something weighing her down, and to his dismay, she still couldn't fully let him know. This was his fault for sure. Still, he tried to let her know that he was sorry, in his own way.
"There was no saving here...just a bit of fun, right? Unless you actually melt in water...then I suppose maybe I did."
She ignored his attempt to lighten the mood. "Why did you come back here?"
"I..." Again, a loss for words. He called it a loose end, but it was clearly something more than that. He needed to be honest to himself, and more importantly to her.
In his hesitation, she stood up, dusting more sand off and turned to face him. "You what?"
He looked away, eyes widened. He didn't understand why this was so difficult. Closing his eyes and clearing his throat, he looked back at her. "I...wanted to see you again."
"What...?" Hands instinctively came to her chest, clasping together.
"I...missed you." He surprised himself as the words came out, but he couldn't help himself. "I wish I could have said something before but my mind really is on one-track. I was so busy thinking about the Yamato and Vergil, I couldn't think of anything else." He laughed nervously. "When Verg and I were stuck in hell, I thought about all the people I didn't think I'd ever see again." His voice lowered. "I thought I'd never see you again."
"Stuck in hell...?" So much happened she couldn't even process it all at once.
"It's a long story." He paused. "But I'll tell you everything...if you'll let me." After an agonizing few moments, he decided to approach her first, but very slowly, afraid any misstep would cause her to flee again. She averted his gaze but stayed where she stood, a shaky hand rubbing her arm. Once he was a certain distance, he raised an arm, wanting to close the distance between them. She looked over at him, tears beginning to well in her eyes.
Crashing into him, she wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could. He breathed a sigh of relief, gently hugging her. Lucia began sobbing in his arms, trying to apologize, but each word was cut off by another sob. Moving his hand up, he rested it on her head, gently petting her.
The whole scene was a mess, he almost wanted to laugh. Instead he smiled. "Listen, you've got nothing to be sorry about." Her sobs continued for a bit longer before they finally subsided, becoming shaky breaths. "If anything, I should be sorry."
When he felt it was safe enough to do so, he pulled her back just enough so they could meet each other's gaze. "I'm..." He huffed. "Not good with this sorta stuff. Never have been. Wouldn't be surprised if that's why I've had such shitty luck with women." He chuckled.
"Idiot..." She smacked his arm gently.
"You're right about that..." He chuckled.
They spent the rest of the day sitting by the water's edge, Dante going into detail about the Red Grave incident as she listened, enraptured.
There was one thing she yet didn't understand. "So...what was that form? Why did you stab yourself?" Tears began to resurface again.
"Oh...that. Well, long story short, no it doesn't hurt as much as you think, and when I do that I have a...I guess a second level of strength. Doesn't last long though, but it is pretty cool."
"A second level of strength..." She thought about the Majin form of Dante's she had seen those years ago, but it was nothing compared to what she caught a glimpse of. She wondered if there was any way she could unlock her own form. "I didn't get the chance to see it fully..."
"Do you want to see it again? Gotta promise not to run though, I'm not that scary."
She laughed and smiled, for the first time since he had arrived. "I will not run this time, I promise."
He stood up and pulled her up in one smooth motion. "Okay, don't freak out, I know it looks bad but again, doesn't hurt too bad, plus its totally worth it." He summoned the Demon Sword Dante for a second before it plunged into his chest. She watched as another burst of energy came out, and once more the large form appeared. "Cool, huh?" He floated over to her, posing as he approached.
She couldn't help but reach out and touch his chest, he was burning to the touch. She reached over and grabbed his hand, marveling over the rough texture of his skin and claws so sharp he could have torn her to ribbons. She hugged him again, the heat sweltering.
He couldn't help but fold his wings over her, a cocoon covering them both. She pulled back to look up at his face, eyes glowing with demonic flame, teeth like sharpened stone, two pairs of horns jutting from his head. She suddenly had an urge bubble up in her gut, and leaned up and forward, getting on her tippy-toes. Just as got close enough, the form dissipated, and he collapsed onto his knee, winded. She pulled back quickly, but knelt down with him, making sure he was alright.
"I forget that takes a bit out of me." He coughed.
"I'm sorry I made you do it twice already in such a short amount of time..." She was cursing her luck internally.
"It's too cool not to show off, don't sweat it." He grinned, sensing her embarrassment. He may have been a dumbass, but he wasn't blind.
She looked away. "It's getting late..." They had spent so much time talking, the sun was now hanging low in the sky, and the tides were beginning to rise.
Dante moved so he was sitting cross-legged on the sand, and shrugged off his coat. "We've still got daylight, there's no rush."
"I suppose you're right..." She crawled over to take a seat next to him, bringing her knees to her chest.
There was a few moments of peaceful silence before he turned to look at her. She looked back at him, a blush beginning to form. She was able to take in his features now that her thoughts weren't clouded, and while he was always handsome, he had grown even more so in their time apart.
Lucia leaned forward, and Dante in kind, their lips only inches apart. His heart was pounding in his chest, a bead of sweat trailed down his neck, her chest tightened, she trembled slightly. Years of yearning culminated in a gentle kiss. It was only a second, but for the both of them, it felt like an eternity. He noticed how good she smelled, she noticed how his beard whiskers tickled her cheeks. As they pulled away, an inhale caught in his throat, and he pulled away to cough. She brought her fingers to her lips, still tingling.
"Thank you." She whispered.
"The pleasure is mine." He whispered back, smirking.
He gently placed an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned in, yawning. "I guess it is late, huh..."
"We'll be late to dinner...Matier will surely scold me..." But she made no sign of getting up. And so neither did he.