Chapter Text
He was so stereotypical.
That was Lady’s first impression of Dante.
While she was grateful that he saved her, the quip ‘My kind of rain’ didn’t strike a right chord. It bristled her enough that she shot her rescuer to release her leg. The landing hurt but it beat having her ears chocked full of the obnoxity boys like him would say.
And yes, she labelled the white-haired bastard a boy despite knowing full well he was around her age. But ugh, he really acted like one than a young man.
Her impression was soured more when the youth left her in the middle of a fight. Flying a goodbye kiss as if he were some kind of a Rockstar. His fashion choice really didn’t help either, though that would say the same for her. Arriving at the Temennigru with only a shirt and a skirt but hey, what could she do, she was in a hurry and needed to have every ammunition that she could carry.
Alright, she digressed there a bit.
Back to the point, after shooting the last of the demon hoard and making her way up, Lady had even cursed him as she wiped sweat and demon ichor off. It took her longer to reach her deadbeat and murderous father thanks to him! She had a goal in mind. To exact vengeance for her mother’s death. No pretty white-haired boys would halt her just because they were an asshole. She was on a goddamn hunt.
But even family, no matter how rotten, still held that tiny piece of your heart captive. Lady was too young, too naïve to accept Arkham’s words at face value. Just because he was dying and acted so, so repentant in his ‘final moments’. She should have known better and yet the lie hooked on her. Her disposition on Dante didn’t change during that time, blinded with rage and grief mudding her every move.
And maybe that was why when Kalina Anna pierced her thigh that those feelings felt like a big ‘idiot’ sign on her head. She had been easily manipulated that it resulted in a blinding pain and for the Jester to achieve his goal. Humiliation and betrayal burned within her chest then, still stubbornly refusing Dante’s side of reason as she glided up with her weapon.
It was when they encountered each other again for the decisive fight on whose actual responsibility this whole fiasco belonged to that Lady saw the glimpse of the underneath.
And…. truthfully, it twinged something in her heart in spite of the still clamoring emotions. Perhaps it was the sudden serious gleam in his eyes or the voiced-out reason that he spoke in lower tone. Perhaps it was neither and had everything to do with how he mentioned his brother. The somber tone so easily missed if she had still been stubborn. Lady noticed though and had after offered her own kind of solidarity by lending him her beloved Kalina Ann. Understanding deeply how family could be a curse more than a blessing.
At the end, Mary finally rid herself of the curse. Tears streaming down her face nevertheless because family was still family. The lost more to how messed up hers had been than for Arkham. The name ‘Lady’ was only right when it was the thing that was so nonchalantly thrown at her. Sounding free and like a fresh start in a brand-new book rather than ripping page from the old one.
Her view on demons didn’t instantly change, yet it lent its start when she and Dante were reunited in the Human World. The landscape was a sorry sight as she felt the increasing downpour of the rain. Lady was a stubborn youth, brash and tough, but she wasn’t cold-hearted. Thus, when she saw the wetness trailing down his face that didn’t come from the sky, Lady didn’t dare to stop it.
And who would have thought that Dante would use her words for the shop’s name?
---
They fell into some form of a friendship as they left the whole demonic tower thing behind.
She stayed around for a short while, helping with the jobs and what not until the place felt too cramped for the both of them, and Lady revved her motorcycle to spread her wings more. They stayed in touch, at times coming together for a drink or two when it was that anniversary. In hindsight, it was a good thing she frequented the place.
While she was no maid, it didn’t hurt to clean up a bit and dragging Dante into doing the same. The cocky, devil may care attitude was there and it was genuinely him. Which made it fun when things didn’t go his way, not to mention his apparent shitty luck. Lady’s tabs on him accumulated at light speed thanks to that. It didn’t help that he was downright bad with money. It was hilarious in its own way and it became something of their own brand of camaraderie.
Yet Lady couldn’t help but worried if even just a bit.
Oh, Dante could take care of himself just fine. His demon blood giving him the advantage that human devil hunters would kill for. Strength and healing came hand in hand for him. Any blows, lesions, and tears were easy to fix if not at all. Lady herself could lift and comfortably hold Rebellion, but the light and fast swings would always be Dante only. He was near untouchable, borderline invisible if it wasn’t for his own tendency to dive headfirst.
“It’s a party, Lady. Of course, I’m going all out,” Dante had reasoned when Lady rubbed her face at the sheer destroyed state his clothes were in. “I couldn’t just let them to rock alone, right?” He grinned.
She could have believed that if the smile even reached his eyebags. Them becoming more prominent as the years went by and along with that, so did the lessened bombastic antics. Lady really wanted to chuck it to him being more grown-up, more mature yet couldn’t find it in her to do so. It would mean denying her own intuition and that was a lie that she would inflict on herself. She had enough time to grow out of her naivety and denial.
So, when she arrived for their annual day and already smelt the stinking alcohol from the doorway, Lady knew Dante was not alright. Was not fine in the slightest, never was now that she thought deeply.
“Dante?” She shook his shoulder.
The man in question only muffled into his arms.
“Dante, come on,” she pushed against him to make him at least stand. The tall man did then immediately crumpled to the floor. “Goddamnit,” Lady cursed as she turned him on his back. Dante might be half-demon, but that didn’t mean she would let him choke on his own vomit. “Okay, you gotta work with me here,” a hand lightly slapped his cheek. It didn’t garner enough reaction though his eyes were flickering opened.
The two hobbled together with Lady having to exert all her muscles to carry the much larger and heavier man to the toilet. She got there in time as Dante heaved so fast into the bowl. The sounds were so absurd coming from him that Lady only rubbed her hand on his back. Waiting until the worst passed, allowing for the shop to be disturbed by smaller sobs.
“There, there,” Lady tried to mimic what memory in the back of her head when her mother would do the same to her. They stayed like that for some time until Lady felt her legs cramping then deeming it was enough. “Come on, Dante. Let’s crash to your bed,” she said with the softest voice possible.
“Lady…” The devil hunter mumbled for the first time.
The other huntress only smiled ruefully, “Yeah, it’s me. Don’t worry, I locked the doors. Now come on,” her hand tugged his black sleeve, “you need to change.”
After some more shuffling and a close call on vomiting again, they huddled on the creaky bed. On the normal days, Lady would have wrinkled her nose and stripped the sheets. Yet this was not one of those days. She ignored it, instead leaning her back to the headboard.
Lady was an only child. Never entertained a thought once about having siblings. Her mother died too early in her life and the rest had been spent on learning how to shoot a gun and where to put bullets in demons. Looking down on Dante like this might as well be as close as she got to feel and act like an older sister. Quite ironic since Dante was older than her by two years.
He never elaborated more about Vergil. None of their time spent dotted with a lick about his brother. They were twins, that much Lady knew. Aside from that, Dante provided her with nothing. But she saw his old left glove on the desk along with the ever-present picture of a blonde beautiful woman. It didn’t take Lady long to know that the two items meant greatly to him. Curiosity had slithered in once, the casual question at the tip of her tongue before she swallowed it down. The burgeoning need to respect her friend’s privacy winning out at the end.
Dante eventually went asleep as the evening wore on. His side of the pillow wet and Lady couldn’t help but pulled the thin covers more to his chin. He stayed in his curled position until she too closed her eyes.
The morning after jumpstarted with the dawning awkwardness that Lady honestly didn’t give a shit about. She leaned onto the desk as Dante mumbled out reasons that didn’t make sense and only served to annoy her.
“Listen,” Lady raised her hand to his face, “I don’t care. We can pretend nothing ever happens and proceeds with our ritual. How about it? Nothing beats breakfast at the diner, huh?” She put her hand on her hip.
Dante blinked owlishly which elicited a laugh from her as they walked out into the street.
“And don’t worry,” Lady winked as they sat at their usual booth, “I’m paying this time around.”
It took a moment for her friend to blink normality back, then proceeded to put his hands on his face, sighing loudly. He kept covering his face when the waiter returned with their food. Lady chose to eat without him as minutes later she heard a soft, meek voice coming out of those lips.
“Thanks, Lady.”
It sounded grateful. Relieved.
Lady knew that wasn’t only for the paid food.
---
Life went on and time did work its property onto them.
Their camaraderie was always going to be part of their charm. Something that later Trish would also join. Jumping on the bandwagon and perfectly in sync with her. After all, money was money, and the bills weren’t going to pay themselves.
Their good days were always fun and full of teasing between old comrades. Like a balm for when the bad days hit. During those days, Lady would cancel the current jobs and closed the shop for the day. She held a spartan hold on the alcohol, watching him took glasses like a hawk. The rest of the evenings would be spent with them on the sofa, a cheap bootleg movie playing on the television with pizza boxes and junk food strewn around.
Sometimes, when it was too much outside, Lady saw the signal and would then steer them to empty secluded places. An alley at one time, an abandoned church on another. There Kalina Ann and Rebellion laid abandoned, their owners leaning against each other. No matter how ridiculous and comical they looked. Dante’s neck suffered from a low angle. He didn’t care. It was an unspoken gesture between them. Neither pointing out anything.
It was good. It was grounding. A touchstone formed over time.
Lady appreciated the easy acceptance of it. Would glare even the meanest son of a bitch down when they raised a condescending brow when they caught glimpses of those moments. It earned her various names, several of them unsavory but who gave a shit. They were devil hunters, exposed to a certain degree of mindfuck craziness on an almost daily basis that it would be tragic for one to be unnerved by something like a small display of the heart.
Dante might be the Legendary Devil Hunter. Arguably the strongest out of these human ones. Untouchable and lived up to the titles he earned throughout the years.
But Lady knew better.
Sometimes, even physical strength paled in comparison to the lurking darkness of the mind.
And it was not something she would allow to sink its teeth into him. Not if she had any chance to dampen the blow.