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Dante appears at the summoning circle carrying a man. The body's held too high for Patty's eyes to see. Something tells her that Dante's dazed.
She dares nudge his elbow.
And Dante breathes again. “Hey, Patty-Cake.”
He drops into a kneel, letting the man sprawl on the floor. He doesn’t listen to Patty's wisdom to be careful at all.
Morrison whistles. Patty's mom looks on with wide eyes.
Patty gets a glimpse of strange, crater-like impressions, and a thick casing made of black paint, and then Dante’s clumsy elbow is in her face.
The red coat slides off with Patty’s reluctant help. If he’s dead-set on taking the stupid thing off, fine! Patty manages to bring it up over his head so his arms can get free.
He tucks it around not-Dante’s arms and legs and up to his chin. His fingers bump against same-shaded hair, and then he stands.
“Who is he…?” Patty wonders.
The air rumbles. Metal creaks, sand scatters. In the blink of an eye, Dante’s smirk is back.
“My older brother.”
He runs a finger down the blade of his sword, making blood leap down like water from a sponge. She remembers feeling it lodged inside his chest, and seeing him pinned there as she fell…
He chuckles, turning away. The monster's face looms.
“I'll be back in a tick. Got an errand to run.”
Patty's heart feels a little lighter, knowing at least the adults aren't worried anymore.
Dante’s brother doesn't stir at all, even when they land on the ground again.
Out in the open air, bits of rubble scatter in wide arcs, leaving everyone's hair dusty-white. Morrison and Mom have worked together to carry the man all the way down, and they drop him soon as they’re all out of the building’s shadow.
Patty spots Lady and Trish watching the lightshow. She cries out, and soon they’re all together again, waiting for Dante to hurry up. He’ll be happy about the exercise at least. He always did complain about no one being around to fight.
What was Dante like at her age? She hadn’t even known he had a brother. What's he like? Did they get along? Did they have other siblings? Where's he been this whole time?
She shuffles closer. His face so similar to Dante's that it stands out more for its differences. Except he looks kind of… dead.
She’s thought about dying, before. And her mom being dead. And the world being dead. It’s just another way to exist, right? The way it happens is sort of fuzzy. Dante would know more about it, but he won’t give her a straight answer.
Dante’s brother could be asleep or he could be dead. Sometimes, people get hurt and need to stay asleep for way longer than just one night, or else they melt, or something, and when that happens they call it being in Akoma.
There’s loads of weird sayings out there just like that. Like, ‘you can’t have your cake and eat it, too’. How silly is that! The only way she can’t eat the cake is if she doesn’t have it! And saying ‘break a leg’ to someone for luck? Pretty grim. So being in Akoma must be like being in a dreamy place, like a beachside city with bright blue waters and fluffy clouds.
She wonders, what would his Akoma look like, if it could be whatever he wanted?
Lady's shout startles her. “Step away, Patty!”
She squeaks, ducking close to the ground, squeezed into Lady's side as the woman levels at gun at the spot Patty was a moment ago.
Mommy looks scared. Everyone's nervous all of a sudden.
“What's he doing here?” Lady demands.
“Ask Dante.” Morrison's irritated glower seems directed at the whole world. No one's running or shooting so it must be okay, right?
Patty's mom drifts into reach. Patty leaps into her arms, listening to her steady heart. Her elegant, quiet voice feels like a thousand rustling leaves in the wind.
“You know Dante's brother?” Morrison prompts.
“We've met.” She stalks close enough to pass the muzzle of the gun over his brow. Lady's laugh sounds like a bark. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's just a harmless little baby.”
Morrison glares at her. “Oh, don't let us interrupt your explanation.”
It's Trish's hand that makes Lady bite back whatever meanie comment she was gonna let fly. Trish smiles.
“I've had the pleasure of meeting Vergil, too. Last I knew, he was serving Dante's mortal enemy. My old boss, as it happens. Dante was ever so distraught when he perished.” Trish peers from behind Lady’s shoulder. “Oh, I see the resemblance now.”
“You left out the part where Dante had to kill him. And also, the part where he raised Temen-ni-gru, and fucked off to hell, and let Dante think he was dead their whole lives—”
Patty's mom turns her away from the argument. She catches a glimpse of Morrison scribbling notes. Lady and Trish gesture over the body of Dante's brother, left to shiver on the dusty, cracked courtyard concrete.
Well, Patty's having none of it.
She escapes her mom's grip, and dashes into the scene. She puffs out her chest big and strong. “Who cares about any of that! Dante brought him back. And Dante trusted us to look after him. So quit it!”
Dante's sacred coat should speak for itself, shouldn't it?
Lady scoffs. Trish follows her away. Patty just hopes Mom is proud of her.
As if she read her thoughts, a hand comes to rest on Patty’s head. It’s so gentle, she doesn’t snap her eyes open to double-check, until the fingers mess up her ashy plait.
“Glad I don't have to go up against you, little lady.”
She grins. “Dante!”
He's solid and warm and safe and she's so glad he's okay. The powder stuff’s gone everywhere and mucked up her face, but his laughter makes it all seem silly to care about. Things are gonna be okay.
Morrison's beat-up oldsmobile actually fits in with the surroundings now, Patty thinks.
Dante takes up the entire back seat. His brother's still-sleeping form is tucked awkwardly in his lap while his long, gangly legs fold up against the door. Dante's tamped-down wheezes are the only sign he's really hurt. Other than the whining, that is. His eyes droop shut in broad daylight.
But he's gonna be fine, Patty knows. Those cushions in the backseat are the comfiest ever. Even though they squeak like a fart if you move even a little bit. And falling asleep in the back is always really nice, like falling asleep on the night train. It might even beat being in Akoma.
The door creaks shut. Seatbelts click. Morrison grumbles. They're off.
Dante raises his finger in a lazy goodbye. Patty waves, and waves, until the car disappears around a smoking corner. Now it's just her and Mommy on the sidewalk.
She stills.
What if it's all a strange dream?
Her hellsent guardian angel was easier to believe. You couldn't have made him up.
He's probably ten minutes away from the shop by now. He's gonna stumble through the doors he never locks, and he's gonna flop onto the couch, and then he'll fall asleep with a magazine balanced on his nose.
She's been there a hundred times. She knows the sound the floorboards make at every corner, and the feel of grainy cement on the way upstairs, the telltale crease splitting the middle of the King of Spades.
But Mommy's just too perfect to be real, right? Straight out of Patty's dreams. Rich, and beautiful, and loving, and classy, and tender, and sorry, and so, so warm.
“You can call him when we're home, if you like," Mommy says.
Home? A fairytale. A silly story for silly orphans. Where a mommy and a daddy live, and a cat plays with a feather, and a dress hangs in a closet, and a bookshelf looms tall and proud, and a carpet muffles footsteps at night.
Well, you know what?
Patty's gonna put this fairytale to the test.
She grins. “Of course I will! But first, I've got so much to show you...”
A whole lifetime, but Patty's gonna get through all of it in record time. They've gotta be up-to-date before Patty can tell her about all the new stuff, too!