A Futile Second Chance

[Dante's Stalker]

Fwuff 1/2

Pale light flickered from the enormous screen mounted at the front of the black theatre. The volume vibrated against the walls, seeped into his ears and danced through his bones. On-screen a masked man revving a chainsaw was lurking through a dim hallway, calling out in an eerie voice 'come out, come out, wherever you are'. The audience was completely engrossed.

In the far back corner of the theatre sat Enji. His legs were propped up on the seat in front of him, his arms folded under his head, with popcorn bits flaked across his chest. He didn't stir when the crowd broke out in the occasional terrified gasp. His mind blanked out the film and people around him – spending three days straight in a cinema turned him immune to the entertainment aspect. He was starting to reek, and his stomach was lamenting its longing for something more substantial than M&M's and popcorn. There had been nowhere else he could go where he wouldn't be found, though. Nobody would think of looking for him here, and up to date he'd been pretty good at sneaking past the cinema staff.

Enji didn't want to go home. He had no home. He didn't have a mother, and now the person who had been the only solid force in his entire life had admitted to the ultimate betrayal. His temper had simmered down over the past few days, but even if his anger toward Dante had started to fade, he was as far from forgiving him as hell was from heaven.

"Popcorn?" A faintly familiar voice jolted Enji upright in his seat.

He squinted at the person beside him in the faint light. His first impression was that it was Nero – but if it had been Nero, he wouldn't be offering him popcorn. He'd be hauling Enji's ass out of the cinemas and throw him into the face of Kyrie's frantic wrathy relief. It wasn't Dante either – he was too young to be him.

Finally, Enji recognized him, but the name evaded him. Nero's brother, or some other – the dude that always pitched up on his birthday with presents that rivalled those of Dante's. Enji dug his hand into the jumbo box being held to him, and shoved his mouth full of salty popcorn.

"Why did you run away?"

"'Cause Dante is a dick." Enji muttered, propping his feet back onto the seat in front of him. "Did you know he's not my dad?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." Enji said, and glared at the screen. "So everyone's in on the joke then."

"No." The Wimp flashed Enji a faint smile. "They are all pretty convinced you're his kid. There's no reason for anyone to doubt it. You're the spitting image of him, and you've got all his mannerisms, too."

"Well according to him, I'm some reincarnation of a Vergo or something."

"Heh." The Wimp said with a shake of his head, and his smile suddenly snapped off. "What?"

"Don't ask me, I've got no clue what he's been putting on his pizza." Enji shrugged in reply.

"Why would he think you're a reincarnation?" The Wimp said, completely puzzled. "You're nothing like Vergil."

"I had a nightmare – one of those where you can see yourself and you try to get to your body, but something holds you back. It was weird, but not that weird. Lots of people have dreams like that. Sort of." Enji fumed quietly.

"Were you dead? In the nightmare, I mean."

"No."

"Pfft." The Wimp said, leaning back in his own seat before stuffing his mouth with popcorn. He chewed thoughtfully for a long moment, and sent a smirk at Enji. "You're not a reincarnation."

"Tell Dante that." Enji said.

"I would, but he's got a sneaky scheme in place to trap me. Very possibly to beat the **** out of me."

"Why would he do that?"

"Guess he just doesn't like me much," The Wimp shrugged carelessly and swiftly redirected the conversation. "Enji, you need to go home."

"Hell no. He lied to me. Do you know what it's like to be totally alone?" Enji said, and shut up at the streak of pain that crossed the older man's face.

"I have a fair idea. But if you go back, you won't be alone. You'll have Dante, and Kyrie, and Tr..." The Wimp said meaningfully, ticking the list off on his fingers.

"I am alone. I don't have a mom or a dad." Enji cut in, and frowned hard at him. "If you knew Dante's not my father, you probably already know that my mom abandoned me when I was a baby."

"Your mom didn't abandon you. She didn't want to give you up, Enji. That's why I had to be the one to drop you off at Devil May Cry." The Wimp said, and smiled apprehensively when Enji's eyes widened. "Yeah, I know your mom. I'm keeping an eye on you for her sake. Now don't..."

"You know her? Where is she?"

"Right this very moment? No idea. Probably watching her favourite soap opera at home," The Wimp said, glancing at the watch around his wrist, and met Enji's gaze. "I can't take you to her. There is a reason why she couldn't keep you, Enji. That hasn't changed, and it won't change for a long time to come. Don't ask me, because I can't do it."

Enji's excitement folded up and collapsed in on itself. He slouched back in his seat in miserable defeat. "Can you at least tell me why?"

"She can't protect you. That's why I chose Dante for the job." The Wimp said. He leaned closer to the boy, his eyes piercing blue daggers that seemed to see right through his skin. Enji tensed – it was the same look Dante had when he'd aired out the stupid idea that Enji was someone else. A half-excited, half-frightened expression – a crazy look. "There is a prophecy in the demon world, that the Dark Prince will awake to a new power, and he will come to the human world with all the wrath and hatred of Hell behind him, to merge the worlds as one. To rule over all demons, and all humans."

"Uh-huh." Enji said sceptically.

"But it also says that there will be a saviour, the Fallen Knight, who will rise again to clear the darkness. He is the only one who can defeat the Dark Prince once and for all; he's the only one who holds the power to destroy that son of a bitch."

"You're talking about Sparda." Enji said, with an impassive air. "Lots of people think he's going to miraculously be resurrected and seal away the remaining demons."

"Think that won't happen?" The Wimp asked curiously.

"Nah. He wasn't all that cool, and it's just speculation, anyway. Dante says he is the new Sparda. 'Cause he had to clean up the mess the real dude left behind."

"What mess? Dante doesn't know sh*t."

"Neither do you. The prophecy you're on about has been done and dusted ages ago. The Fallen Knight is just a wistful wish somebody tacked on to the actual legend. If you don't know that, where have you been?"

"Enji, I know the facts. The Fallen Knight refers to a descendant of Sparda's."

"Dude, you're talking about the legend. Sparda sealed Mundus away a few millennia ago..."

"No ****, smartass." The Wimp interrupted. His brows knitted together in an obnoxious scowl, and there was a hint of genuine frustration in his voice. "I know a bit more on the subject matter than anyone else. It doesn't say the Dark Prince will necessarily be Mundus. If it was, I could kick his ass myself."

"You?" Enji snorted, and shrugged at the crafty look the Wimp responded with. "So what's the prophecy got to do with me?"

"Everything, according to the demon realm. They believe you're the Fallen Knight. Why do you think they are so intent on killing you?"

"Okay." Enji said slowly. "So... am I?"

The Wimp chewed his lip uncertainly for a moment. "You could pass for him."

Enji lifted his eyebrows in annoyance, and returned to staring blankly at the massive screen. "You like to avoid answering questions, don't you?"

"Some things are better left unsaid." The Wimp said, and shoved the box of popcorn into Enji's chest. "Go home, Enji."

"I'm not going back..."

"You have to." The Wimp snapped in a voice so harsh it made Enji cringe. "You're the only thing that's kept Dante on his feet for a long time now. I don't give a **** if you feel hard done by. Welcome to the real world, Enji."

~...~

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Fwuff 2/2

When Enji eventually went back home, his safe return was welcomed by Dante first giving him stick, and then celebrated for a full two days before things settled back to normal. Or, as normal as they could get.

Dante was still pretty weird around him, except for the times when they'd have their usual dilemmas, like their wrestling matches to get Enji to brush his teeth, and their constant debates over the importance of vegetables in a half-breed's diet. And then there were the occasional planned ambushes Enji devised – catching Dante off guard the second he sets foot out his room by shooting a stream of cold water right in his face from Enji's set of water guns, and then the usual rough play that followed to see who got soaked most. Those were the few times when Enji really knew Dante.

The man that otherwise wandered the house had become a stranger to him. A dark, quiet, and depressing guy that tempted Enji to punch him out of it. He didn't know this Dante, and he didn't like him.

Enji levelled his gaze at Dante, draped over the couch across from him, who returned his look evenly.

"I'm not going to tell you again, Enji."

Enji stared back at him, and finally at the plate of food set out in front of him. "Why?"

"You need it to nurture your body. You can't expect to stay strong by living off junk food. You need your vegetables."

"Nurture your body," Enji repeated mockingly, glaring at the green and orange mush on his plate. "I don't need it."

"Yeah, you do. Now eat it."

"You don't, so why do I have to?" Enji fired back.

"I don't count."

"Why?"

Dante blinked, and slowly leaned forward on the couch. He looked confused for a second. "Because I said so. Look," he said, running a hand through his silver hair in a helpless gesture. Time for a strategy change. "Popeye eats his spinach and beats up the bad guy. And he gets the girl."

"Agh, ****, here we go again with the super dudes. Popeye?" Enji repeated, arching an eyebrow incredulously. "Why can't I beat up the bad guy and just get the girl? Why bring veggies into the mix?"

"Well... you like Bugs Bunny, right?" Dante faltered.

"Yeah?"

"He's a cool guy." Dante said, and picked up a carrot stick. He munched it down noisily, and did a damn good impersonation of "Say, what's up, doc?"

"I'm not a rabbit, Dante." Enji said.

Dante spat out the orange gunk in defeat. It left a faint, sweet residue on his tongue. "Bleah."

"Besides, Spiderman doesn't have to eat his veggies to stay strong." Enji added.

"How do you know?"

"Come on, Dante. He's Spiderman."

"Batman eats his veggies." Dante pounced.

"Batman is a human guy with too much money and too much time on his hands. You can't compare him to Spiderman." Enji said with a snort.

"They're both superheroes." Dante pointed out.

"So is Superman, but none of them are in the same league."

"Superman ate his veggies," Dante said confidently. "He grew up on a farm. There was no way he didn't eat it."

"Who cares? I'm more like Spiderman, because he's not all human. So what applies to him should apply to me, too."

"Touché." Dante grunted. "You still have to eat your vegetables."

"I'm not touching that."

"Do it, or I'm calling Trish."

"You're bluffing." Enji said, but his wit waned at the mention of the vixen.

"Oh yeah?" Dante said. He made a show of getting up and dialling Trish's number. Enji sat rigidly on the couch, watching him through a panicked haze. When Dante made the call and retook his position across from him, the tension suddenly slipped from Enji's frame and a spiteful grin spread across his face.

"She's going to be ****ed." Enji said.

"It's not too late to back out. Eat it, and I'll stop her from electrocuting you." Dante offered nonchalantly.

"I'm not touching that." Enji said confidently.

They didn't move for a while, caught up in a silent stare-war, until the doorknob rattled and the front door swung open on squeaky hinges. Dante turned to see Trish rush into the house, a look of alarm on her flushed face.

"I got here as fast as I could! What's the emergency?" Trish panted out.

Dante opened his mouth and gestured toward Enji, when his eye fell on the now empty plate between them. Enji was leaning back against the couch, licking his lips, blue eyes glinting with mischief.

"Uh...well..." Dante stammered, eyes darting from the plate to Enji and back. How the hell did the kid manage to devour all that crap in two seconds?

"What are you doing here?" Enji asked casually, sending a wink back at Dante before turning an innocent and mock confused face to Trish. "I thought you were working on some hard case?"

"I am," Trish said and looked at Dante expectantly. Her alarm was quickly diminishing into something frighteningly like angry confusion. "Well? What did you call me out here for?"

"I...uh...tch... just really wanted to see you?" Dante said and produced the most charming smile he could muster.

Trish didn't fall for it. The front door closed behind her a minute later, and Enji climbed to his feet to pick up his empty plate. He smirked down at Dante, flat on his back on the floor and twitching as sparks danced across his form.

"Heh. Score one for the E-Master," Enji said, strolling from the room in triumph.

"Little...bastard..." Dante choked in between bouts of shockwaves.

 

[Dante's Stalker]

The Plot Thickens 1/3 (credit to Dante for this one, the dummy decided to take the lead and dished out this chapter - and follied all my plans...urgh...)

~...~

"That was a rush," Dante said half-heartedly as he crossed the length of Devil May Cry. His boots were heavy and sounded dully across the wood floorboards. He paused at his desk, slipped his pistols from their holsters and placed them on the glossy table top with affectionate care. "I'm almost sad it ended so soon."

Dante settled into his chair and looked over when the sound of the bar fridge door wrench open filled the otherwise silent office. He studied the lanky youth crouched down in front of it; blonde hair tousled, blue shirt shredded and stained with blood – his own, and then some.

"Yeah...got my appetite worked up..." the mumbled reply came.

"Heh," Dante chuckled, propping his feet up on the desk before him. His grin faded as quickly as it came, and his gaze became hooded and hard as he observed the boy.

Enji had hit a ridiculous growth spurt when puberty came; ironically it coincided with Dante's memories of his own puberty. His voice had broken into a deeper baritone, he'd suffered severe acne that even had demons squirm in disgust, and his body drastically extended in length practically overnight and caused Enji to whack his head into things he never used to have to duck for – all of this occurring within a week. Exactly like what Dante had gone through in his teenage years.

Only, Enji had handled it smoothly, and quickly adapted to his new developed body. Of course he had to unless he wanted to become demon food. Yet there had been no awkwardness. He moved his slim, lengthy limbs with natural finesse; his obscenely zit coated face had responded with a mask of indifference to Dante's light-hearted taunts, making even Dante feel inferior for taking a crack at him. He'd expected Enji to suffer more through that phase because the kid had it so easy, had just about everything he wanted handed to him on white-gold platters. Enji never had it tough like Dante had. Which made it doubly disturbing that the kid would handle puberty the exact same way Dante had when he was young.

Which was also the instigator of what Dante was about to do.

Over the years, he'd discovered that although Enji displayed some qualities he could recall of Vergil, he was nothing like Vergil. He was too much like Dante. Too much. The apple didn't fall far from the tree – it had become Lady's favourite saying, partially because it was true, partially because she knew it got him worked up to an extent.

And doubt had begun to clutter Dante's resolute denial. He knew the facts – knew that Enji was Eva's son, knew that he sure as hell wasn't the father, knew that Enji was no reincarnation of any kind. What threw him was that it made no sense exactly why Enji was so much like him. He would put it down to the fact that Enji had no other rolemodel to conform to, but Dante wasn't stupid. He would shrug it off as a 'monkey-see-monkey-do' scenario, but Dante wasn't ignorant. He and Enji were too alike – hence the constant heated fights exploding between them – too similar in behaviour. It was disconcerting because Dante sometimes knew what the kid was thinking. He could see inside Enji's head.

Looking at Enji now seated on the couch against the wall, struggling with a can opener and a tall can, Dante could see himself. It was starting to freak him out. He needed answers, and he knew the only way to get those answers involved a lot of pain, and shedding blood. Innocent blood. Enji's blood.

"What are you doing?" Dante scowled.

"I'm trying to open this stupid thing," Enji growled back, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows, and readjusting his grip on the can opener.

Dante watched him battle for another moment, and sighed in resignation. "Alright. Gimme, I'll do it." He'd barely finished the sentence before Enji hurled the can at him in frustration. Dante caught it in his left hand, but the can opener flew right past his shoulder and slammed into the wall behind him with a loud snap. He tilted the chair back as far as he could go, snatched the utensil off the floor with his fingers, and sent a curious look at the boy. Enji was still on the couch, scratching at his head with both hands in a gesture of irritation, before he smoothed his hair back and returned Dante's stare with a frown.

"Baked beans?" Dante asked, shaking the can at him.

"On toast." Enji said. "If we can get the damn can open."

"Well, that's what dads are for, I guess. Seeing as yours is too much of a wuss to man it up, I'll have to deal with it," Dante muttered, setting to work on the can.

"Seen him around lately?" Enji asked idly.

"Only in the mirror," Dante ground out. " He won't come to the shop. Think he's afraid I'll kick his ass."

Enji watched Dante struggle with the can the same way he had moments before. "Trish says you're delusional. She's pretty much convinced you are my father."

"Trish doesn't know ****." Dante snapped, getting a tighter grip on the can and biting his tongue in concentration.

"Forget it, Dante. There's nothing more degrading than losing a fight with an inanimate object," Enji said and shrugged at Dante's sharp glance. "We'll go for pizza."

"With who's cash? I'll get it, just... there's something wrong with this..." Dante's hand slipped.
Enji's eyes grew round at the sudden movement. Blood shot across the desk like little crimson comets. There was a moment of startled silence as they both eyed the deep gash in the flesh of Dante's thumb, already starting to heal itself. Enji opened his mouth to repeat his earlier solution to the problem, and got as far as inhaling a breath. Dante slammed the can onto the desk, and the lid blew open with a resounding thwack, sending a wave of baked beans oozing from the tin, across his bloody fingers, pooling on the desk.

"Screw it." Dante muttered, and reached for Ivory.

Enji's mouth snapped shut and his eyes narrowed in silent fury when Dante aimed the pistol right at him. "I told you to leave it."

"Shut up, kid." Dante said, slowly rising up from the chair and rounding the desk with deliberate sluggishness. Part of him recoiled at the idea of what he was about to do – after spending sixteen years working his ass off to keep Enji alive and protected against the scum of hell itself, it was pure insanity that Dante would be the one to bring the kid face to face with death.

It was a mistake to even think about it. Enji sensed the turmoil in Dante, and relaxed his stiff shoulders, indirectly calling Dante's bluff. He pulled off his tattered shirt and tossed it onto a pile of empty pizza boxes and empty beer bottles heaped in a corner of the room. He slumped back into the couch and scowled when Dante didn't lower his weapon.

"More training? ****, Dante, wasn't today's work enough? I don't know about you, but I'm deadbeat," Enji said.

Dante shoved all sentiments aside. Some situations called on the toughest action to be taken for the greater good. No one knew that better than him. His grip on Ivory tightened, and his face froze over with ice. "Not dead enough."

The door clicked open the second Dante's finger pulled back on the trigger. Metal scathed against metal, and a shot rebounded through the office. It sounded louder than usual to Dante's ears, but it didn't deter him. Enji was a quick little ****, though – he'd rolled out of the way of the speeding bullet and was on his feet, flashing a ****y smirk back at him. Dante had figured the kid would put up a show, but he had Enji's trust as a fighting companion to his advantage. It was only a matter of seconds before the boy would realize that Dante, for once, wasn't playing.

"Getting slow, old man." Enji fired back at him.

"Am I interrupting something?" Nero's voice added.

Keeping his aim right on target, Dante shot an irate glance at Nero. ****ing wonderful timing. Enji was going to be a piece of cake – Nero was going to pose a problem. Nero had paused mid-stride and uncertainty crossed his face when he noted the devil hunter's hard expression. Enji was half turned toward Nero, his poise carelessly relaxed. Dante's icy eyes darted from Nero's Devil Bringer to Red Queen sheathed on his back, his mind ticking through the sequence of events to follow with strategic accuracy.

 

[Dante's Stalker]

The Plot Thickens 2/3

"Nah. We were gonna head out to grab some pizza, want to join..." Enji started.

The second Nero's gaze turned to focus on Enji, Dante backed up toward the desk, at the same time swinging his arm to fire several shots at Nero. One bullet hit him in the shoulder, two more struck him on the elbow and wrist; calculated areas to weaken the Devil Bringer. The unexpected attack activated Nero's devil trigger, and then Dante had Rebellion in his free hand.

Nero staggered back a step, gripping his arm, too stunned to retaliate for a minute. Dante used that minute to his full advantage. Enji had in turn taken a step closer to Nero, equally caught off guard, and didn't turn in time to dodge the next barrage of bullets fired his way. Several hit him in the arm and neck, sending Enji flying sideways. Dante streaked across the room in a blur of red with Rebellion at the ready, and impaled the boy before his body could hit the ground.

"Dante... stop! What are you..." Nero stammered, standing back in shock to gape at Enji on the floor.

"Stay out of this," Dante cut him off, and twisted Rebellion in Enji's mid-riff, evoking a terrible scream of agony from the boy.

"Help –"

The cry seemed to kick Nero out of his stumped paralysis. Yamato manifested in his Devil Bringer hand, and Nero braced himself inwardly when he charged. Dante deflected the blow smoothly, and pushed Rebellion down on the katana blade in a sword-wrestle. Metal burned against metal. He could see the flash of pain through the younger man's eyes, and a second later Nero's arm caved beneath the force Dante exerted. Yamato clattered to the floor, and Dante performed a good old fashioned roundhouse kick that sent Nero sailing into the wall.

Without waiting to see if he'd done a good job at putting Nero down, Dante turned back to Enji. The kid had crawled across the room to the door, leaving a stream of rich crimson in his wake. Dante watched his painful, frantic movements to reach the doorknob, and then Enji glanced over his shoulder at him. Their eyes met, and Enji's bloody hand dropped on the floor beside him with defeat. Dante's legs moved him closer to the boy, and he held Rebellion steady to finish the job. Enji writhed on the floor when Dante drew closer. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to fight Dante off. No way to dodge. No way to run. He was deadmeat. Enji closed his eyes and dropped his forehead into the floor with a loud thump. Dante could hear the kid's thought. ****.

Any time now, you damn dip****, Dante thought when he stopped beside Enji's form. He lifted Rebellion. If he did kill Enji right this moment and awakened the kid's devil form, there was no doubt in his mind that Enji was going hand his ass back to him, with interest. But Enji didn't know about his devil form, didn't know how it could be gained –Dante had always been stingy on giving him that info. Good thing too. Else Enji wouldn't be experiencing the genuine fear of dying right now...else Enji would have been useless and Dante's ingenious plan wouldn't work...

Dante's muscles flexed as he started to bring Rebellion down, aiming for Enji's chest – and there it was. Just in the nick of time. Just as he'd known it would happen. A slip in the air, a disturbance so fleeting he wouldn't have taken notice of it if he hadn't been waiting for it. Dante pulled a trickster manoeuvre the same instant the Wimp materialized out of seemingly nowhere. The Wimp crouched down beside Enji in alarm. Dante moved in behind him a fraction of a second later, stepping into the exact spot he'd appeared.

There was a rush of power; it encased him, somehow got into his blood. It hurled him with breath-choking force through a hurricane of blurring colours. It was over as quickly as it began. Dante took an eager step away from the teleporting vacuum, cold eyes surveying the environment around him. Deep crimson carpet. Cream-coloured painted walls, half panelled with golden oak. Tall arching windows framed by velvet amber drapes, looking out over a tidy rosebush adorned garden bed. To his right, a wide pinewood cabinet displayed an impressive assortment of books. A slick black stereo was singing classical music into the room, a CD rack beside it showed a collection of Beethoven, Vivaldi, Debussy, Bach, Mozart, Chopin, Strauss. There were photographs framed in glossy platinum gold. Dante took a step toward it, eye catching on one photo in particular. That looked a lot like...

A sound behind him caught Dante in his tracks, and he turned sharply to face it. A maid in pale blue was scuttling from the room through an open mahogany door, carrying a tray of silverware that rattled as she bounced down a long hallway. Dante set after her with steady, careful steps, drinking it all in. The hallway itself was wide with a lofty ceiling. Acrylic portraits lined the walls, and several identical corridors branched off to the sides. His steps slowed down when he approached the end of the hallway. It opened up to an elongated room with gold chandeliers and polished floorboards, a room bare, apart from a couple of plush chairs placed against the walls at random intervals.

A colossal mirror stood in one section of the room, and in front of it was a pair of young people.

Both were dressed in white robes, facing the mirror, each wielding a four feet long katana in their left hand. Sheathing the katana, a step forward with the right leg, bending the knee, unsheathing the katana and unleashing a diagonal cut through the air – done so fast that it seemed to be one movement instead of two – sheathing the katana again, moving back into a relaxed standing position. Taking a step with the bent right leg again, unsheathing the katana once more, pressing the scabbard from the left hip toward the back with the left elbow and twisting the body to face an imaginary foe behind them, jabbing out with the katana in the right hand in one smooth forward streak. Swinging the right foot around to turn the body back to the mirror, grasping the hilt of the katana with both hands and bringing it over in a long vertical cut; turn the body to the right, bring the katana down in another diagonal swing, turning around to face the left, taking a step forward and bringing the katana down again – fending off invisible foes circled around them. Stepping back, katana held above the head, swiping it down to the side, a pause, and then smoothly, slowly, slipping it back into the sheath. There was power in every step, fierce discipline behind every refined move. The technique was direct and simple – Dante recognized it.

He stood frozen in a trance, unable to tear his eyes away. They moved completely in synch; a mirror image of the other. It was quite a sight to behold, beyond impressive. Both with flaxen hair that glared in the sunlight slanting through the arching window. Both with long, limber legs and arms, perfect postures. One of them was a girl with an innocent, youthful complexion; biting her lip and scowling softly with intense concentration. A mini-replica of Trish. The other was Enji.

Dante heard his heart thump dully in his ears as he stared. Eva glided into the room from a door in the corner, behind the training duo. Her white and pale purple dress whispered around her ankles as she strolled across the wooden floor with her bare feet. Her head was bent over a thick book in her hands, the scowl on her face reflecting the one on the younger girl's. Eva halted in her tracks suddenly, and her frown deepened.

Enji had noticed her first, and turned toward her, his back to Dante. In a voice ridden with controlled impatience, he spoke."Mother, now what?"

"I'm sorry, I just can't be sure if I'm translating these scripts correct or not." Eva said with a helpless sigh, tracing a line in the book with her index finger.

"Oh, great!" The girl exploded, dropping her stance and whirling to face Eva. "Now I lost my grip! And I was doing so good, Mom! Vergil didn't have to snap at me even once! Why'd you have to come and ruin it?"

"Ali, control yourself," Enji chided, but Eva was speaking over him.

"Don't you take that tone of voice with me, young lady. I'll ban you from Iaido indefinitely, is that understood?" Eva said heatedly, looking at the girl with a stern, composed expression.

"But... ugh. Whatever." The girl grumbled, deftly twirling her katana in her hand absent-mindedly.

"Can it wait until after?" Enji asked, striding toward Eva.

"If it could, I wouldn't have come to disturb you." Eva said, watching through narrowed eyes as the girl spun in a circle and made reckless, swift slices with her katana at the air around her. "Your father has reason to worry that Dante might have discovered a way to track us down – there's a spell in this book that will aid him in preventing that from occurring, and he wanted it today before going to see Enji," Eva said, her gaze shifting away from the wild play the girl was exhibiting with a slight shake of her head, to fix on Enji who had come to take a stand right beside her, leaning over her shoulder to scrutinize the book in her hands.

 

[Dante's Stalker]

The Plot Thickens 3/3

"These are ancient texts. It would be better to reference them to..." Enji's words ran dead abruptly, and his gaze snapped up to lock with Dante's. There was a flicker of momentary bewilderment across his face, and then his jaw clenched in resolute purpose.

Dante felt he ought to move and get out of there, but the trouble was he didn't know how to get out, or where exactly he was. He didn't even trust that what he was seeing was real. Because it couldn't be.

"...to the symbolic texts I translated before. The journal is in my room," Vergil continued, twirling Eva around and steering her back out through the door. "I'll join you shortly, and we'll decipher the text together, alright?"

"Hey, check this out, Vergil," the girl piped up once Eva was gone and he'd closed the door firmly behind her. The girl ran up to the mirror – physically ran two or three steps up the side of it – and did a flip through the air. She arched the katana through the air, lost her grip, and landed off balance on the floor with a surprised cry of "****!" The katana flew through the air and loudly clashed into the wall close by Dante.

The girl caught herself, and her eyes went round when she spotted Dante. She took a startled step back at the sight of him – Dante was sure he didn't fit in here at all, he felt like a black garbage bag standing in sterile white cleanness – and repeated her previous exclamation. "****."

"What was that supposed to be?" Vergil asked, drawing out his katana and glancing at her incredulously as he strolled right toward Dante.

"Should I go get mom?" The girl hiccupped, edging toward the door Eva had gone through. She looked scared out of her wits, staring holes into Dante.

"I'll handle this." Vergil said sharply, and the girl stopped edging toward the door. She followed in Vergil's wake cautiously, warily looking from Dante to her katana lying a few feet away from him.

"Vergil... don't do anything stupid..." She hissed through gritted teeth.

Dante retreated a step when the boy came to a halt a few feet in front of him. There was a swish of metal and a flash of blade, and the katana pressed up against Dante's throat.

"How did you get here?" Vergil demanded. Always the calm and quiet one, even in the face of chaos. The sharp pain of the blade against his throat convinced Dante that this wasn't any illusion. When he didn't respond, Vergil's eyes narrowed and he increased the strength on the katana. Dante felt flesh tear and blood running down his neck in little streams that turned cold. "What have you done?"

Adrenaline kicked Dante into action. He gingerly gripped the blade at his throat with his thumb and index finger, giving it one hard tug – a quick move to dislodge the weapon from its owner's hand. Vergil held steady, though, and a scowl crept across his forehead.

"I will kill you if I have to repeat myself. Now answer me." Vergil growled.

Dante watched the girl skip around them and down the hallway he'd come from, calling out for her father. He swallowed hard, and shrugged arrogantly. "Guess you'll have to kill me then."

The sword pressed deeper into his skin. More blood flowed. Vergil's face turned icy. "You fool!"

"Vergil, dad's not in the study... stop it! You're going to cut his head off!" The girl had reappeared, and was pulling at Vergil's hand, trying to pull the katana away from Dante's throat. Vergil didn't budge. The blade cut deeper.

"Come on! I know how he did it... somebody must have told him about the transfer portal being left open for a few seconds..." Ali huffed, tugging harder at his arm. She let go abruptly, and landed a whack from behind on Vergil's head. "You can't kill him – what about Enji?"

"I'll kill them both." Vergil muttered, lowering the katana and glaring at Ali.

"Don't be an idiot."

"I'd have preferred to deal with this myself." Vergil said angrily, looking past Dante.

"Too bad you're not eighteen yet," The Wimp's voice sounded up behind Dante before he could turn around to avoid the attack.

The world snapped a change of scenery down around them. They were back in the office – it looked far more shabby and dirty in comparison to the immaculate room he'd just been in. Dante wrenched free of the iron grip around him, and aimed Ivory at the Wimp.

"You owe me some explanations, pal," Dante roared.

"I owe you nothing," the Wimp retorted, equally furious, as he took several steps away from Dante.

"Tch, you think?" Dante sneered at him. "That's why you made such a ****ed up father."

The Wimp responded by pulling the bird, and then he was simply gone. Dante darted forward, but the teleporting vacuum had already disappeared. There was nothing but thin air in front of him.

"...it's okay, I'm gonna get you some help, just hang on,Enji..."

Dante turned around and took the scene in for a moment. Nero was hovering over Enji, his gestures frantic, his face tight with fear and worry. Enji looked dangerously close to death – his eyes weren't focussing, and he didn't seem to hear Nero. Dante dropped Ivory and strolled over to them. Nero pulled Blue Rose at him when Dante crouched down beside the boy.
Dante paid no attention to him. He carefully shifted his hands beneath Enji to lift him up.

"Why'd you do it?" Nero snarled at him.

"It was the only way to get Sparda to come." Dante said curtly, and with Enji in his arms, he marched through the door of Devil May Cry.

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Abandon All Hope 1/2 (this is the last chapter I've written for this fic - until inspiration hits home)

Let the energy run its course.

He didn't know whether he was awake or unconscious. He could distinguish between neither. Both were black holes. One swarmed with a pain so intense that it chased him back to the other hole; the other hole which echoed with a silky voice that slipped about in his mind like an ice cube on a hot surface.

You have to let go of it...

I want to die, the thought reverberated through his head and curled around his core like talons tearing into its prey.

Don't prolong the process...

He was being dragged back to the other hole, the one where the pain was. He kicked against it, kept himself in whatever abyss he was currently in. The voice wasn't any more comforting than the memory of the pain.

Loosen your control, do it now!

What control? Control over what? What the hell was he talking about?

You're not ready to embrace our heritage yet...

Who are you? The three words bounced around in his head.

Let go of it! Do as I say.

Was he already dead? He must be. Who else could be the voice snapping orders at him but the Big Guy upstairs? Or maybe it was the Prince of Darkness calling him out. He felt his heartbeat pick up at the mere thought, and the talons around his core became ice.

...if you let your energy take its path...the voice sounded deterred and less commanding at his terrified thoughts... you will not die... Enji, stop fighting it...

There was a reason he was fighting it. He couldn't remember what it was. Nothing much made sense in his shaken mind. Whatever – just do it. Enji struggled to release the restraint he exerted on his abilities. It wasn't a mental or spiritual thing to blame. It was emotional, but he just couldn't recall that vital scrap of memory as to why he didn't want to wake up.

It took him a while before he was able to withdraw the confusing medley of emotions. There was a mental crack, and the wall that had kept his power at bay crumbled like a wall of sand in the path of a tsunami. It soared through his veins and circulated his body like a breath of fresh air on a humid day. It played through his body like cool fingers weaving through his tissue; a soothing, familiar touch caressing his taut nerves and surrounding the damaged part of his form.

Healing hurt, in a good way. The fierce ache in his mid-riff had been raw and brutal, but now it was overcome with the comforting itch that meant his tissue was mending itself; a painful tightening, a tender pulling together sensation. He could breathe easier now, too. There was a bad taste in his mouth, like dried blood.

Enji opened his eyes and stared up at a faintly lit ceiling. He slowly turned his head toward the soft gold light source nearby, situated on a familiar bedside cabinet. A rocking chair was next to it. He blinked once, hard, and felt a gentle, warm hand touch his cheek and turn his face in the opposite direction.

"Welcome back," Trish said quietly, and offered him a small smile. "I thought we were going to lose you there for a while."

"Where am I?" Enji asked, glad that his voice was still working, however weak it came out.

"You're home."

There was a rap at the door, short and impatient. Trish looked toward it for a second, before looking back down at him. There was annoyance on her face, regret and genuine fear in her eyes. The door creaked open.

"Is he-" Nero's voice.

"He's awake." Trish said curtly.

Enji rolled his head on the pillow to look when Nero stepped into the dark room. His face was unnaturally pale, and wrinkled with an unpleasant scowl.

"Good." Nero said, staring down at Enji with immense relief, but his voice changed and he looked at Trish sharply, his voice growing cold. "Now get out."

"Nero, listen to me, I'm telling you..."

"I don't give a damn. Get out now."

Trish pursed her lips and stared back at Nero with equal fierceness. Her tone was calm and reassuring, but her words brought back that scrap of memory Enji had been chasing after. "You know Dante. You know he would never dream of killing Enji. Something drove him to this, and whatever he's uncovered, it's not good."

Enji pushed himself up to sit on the bed. He was home, but not the home he'd initially thought when the word was mentioned. He was in the spare bedroom in Nero's apartment. And Dante had tried to kill him. Nero seemed alarmed when he sat up, but Trish looked more relieved than anything else.

"I couldn't care less. He's not coming near Enji again, not on my watch." Nero growled dangerously. "I want you out of my house, Trish. You and Dante can stay the hell away from Fortuna, too, because if I catch either of you..."

"Please, don't try to threaten me, boy," Trish said condescendingly. "Enji will leave with me."

"Enji stays."

"Don't make this any uglier than it needs to be, Nero."

"Enji stays." Kyrie said from the doorway. Enji looked up at the sound of her voice, and then she was perching on the bed beside him, her arms enveloping him in a tight, protective embrace. "You'll not take him away from us. Dante has already proven that he can't keep Enji safe."

"Something possessed him to do this. Something is up. Dante's methods might be questionable, but he always has motives behind his actions..." Trish contested.

"Now see here, that in no means whatsoever justifies what he's done..."Kyrie started.

"He did what he thought was best..."Trish cut in.

"Are you joking? He shot me so he could run a sword through Enji's gut." Nero said.

"Still, perhaps if we could find this young man, this man Dante believes to be Sparda..." Trish tried again.

"Finding a teleporter is like trying to catch a drop of oil in water. Besides that, Sparda is dead. That kid that likes to keep himself scarce is not the legendary Dark Knight." Nero said.

"Strange how he could so easily use the power within the Sparda sword then, don't you think?" Trish growled back.

"Strange how I could so easily use the power within Yamato, don't you think?" Nero fired back with blazing eyes. "That doesn't make me any more Dante's deceased brother than it makes that kid Sparda."

Nero leaned over the bed, staring daggers at Trish. "Do you know what he was going to do? He was going to take Enji to the medical clinic."

"He... what?" Trish asked, dumbstruck.

"They would have had the place crawling with scientists. They would have taken Enji away from us forever," Nero said roughly. "And if I didn't unleash Yamato on Dante as soon as I realized his intentions, Enji would have bled to death before we ever got here."

"You misjudge Dante's intentions. He's always been careful around humans wanting to aid him and Enji medically. Always." Trish said, shaking her head, but her voice had grown feeble and was unsteady with confusion.

"Well maybe the devil inside of him has decided to possess him," Nero said scathingly. "Or maybe he's just lost his damn mind. Either way, I'll show him no sympathy. He's betrayed our trust. He won't get a second chance."

"You're jumping to conclusions. Dante will be able to explain it all if you just give him the ch..." Trish began.

"Where is he?" Enji interrupted, and Trish fell silent.

"He's outside, but don't worry. We won't let him near you, never again." Kyrie said, her arms tightening around him.

"It's gonna be alright, Enji," Nero said firmly, giving Enji's shoulder a light squeeze.

Enji glanced from one face to the other. Emotions conflicted inside of him – fear and anger clawed at one another like two felines, and confusion cowered beneath the brawl. He hated Dante. He feared him. He'd be content to never lay eyes on the bastard again. But there was a feeling inside of him, a whisper of urgency that compelled him to go face Dante head on. It wasn't like Dante to do what he did. It wasn't right.

"Let me go talk to him." Enji said, disentangling himself from Kyrie's arms.

"No, no, no..." Kyrie said, alarmed.

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Abandon All Hope 2/2

"He won't hurt me." Enji said. There was quiet conviction behind his words. He knew Dante wouldn't hurt him, despite having mortally wounded him not too long ago. He knew Dante better than any of the others did.

"That's not going to happen..." Nero said.

"I'll come with you." Trish said. Even though she'd been sticking up for Dante all the while, Enji realized she was just as scared and angry at Dante as the rest of them. She wouldn't let him face Dante alone. She didn't trust him. Clearly, none of them did, and Enji didn't blame them. He himself felt he shouldn't trust Dante, but he knew him too well. Far too well to let something like this scare him off.

Enji walked down the hallway toward the front door, Nero on his side, Trish in front of him, Kyrie on his other side. Like his own personal entourage. The wound in his stomach and the holes in his neck and arm had healed, leaving behind smooth, blood coated skin. The night air was surprisingly warm when they stepped outside.

Dante was sitting on the sidewalk across the narrow street with his head hanging low and his feet firmly planted on the cobblestone road. The wind ruffled his hair. Other than that, there was no movement from the mercenary. Nero wouldn't let Enji go any closer than a few steps, and he crouched down in the middle of the road instead.

"Why?" Enji asked. The single word cut through the still night and danced down the long winding road.

Dante shrugged, and muttered without looking up at any of them, "Seemed like a good plan at the time."

"And the plan was?"

"To provoke Sparda out of hiding so I could retrace his steps and find out what the hell is going on."

Enji hesitated. "And did you?"

Dante didn't respond right away. He eventually looked up, and his eyes were cold and troubled as he studied Enji. He squinted, frowned, and lowered his gaze to the ground once more.

"You found out that I'm not a reincarnation of Vergil, right?" Enji pressed.

Dante grunted in reply, and let out a long, steady breath. "I'm gonna leave you to it then."

Enji sat, stumped silent for a moment as he watched Dante get to his feet and slowly start to wander up the street. "You're walking out on me?" Enji called, and then he was suddenly on his feet and in pursuit. "What? Because it turns out that I was right after all, and that I'm not your dead brother?"

"Enji, come back here!" Kyrie cried from behind them.

He caught up to Dante, and stepped in the mercenary's path. Dante stopped, and their eyes locked; the veteran in royal red leather coat facing off with the younger shirtless youth. Both with cores of steel, and fire in their eyes.

"I want you to have these." Dante finally said in a subdued voice.

Enji looked at the pair of pistols Dante held to him before meeting the elder's gaze directly. "What did you find? Dante? Tell me what you know."

"I need to go figure this out, kid."

"We'll figure it out together, like we always do."

"Take the damn guns." Dante growled, and Enji obeyed, twirling Ebony and Ivory in his hands with such ease that it seemed they were an extension of his being.

"You're not going forever, are you?" Enji asked, his voice becoming void of emotion.

Dante glanced over his shoulder. Nero was starting toward them, and so was Trish. "I don't know, Enji."

"I don't have a mother. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a father."

"Tch, what about Nero? He's better at the whole dad thing than I am." Dante said, noting the aggravated expression on Nero's face.

"They don't know me like you do. What if they get fed up with me? What if they leave me, too?"

Dante turned back to Enji, and they stared at each other. It hurt him to say it, and for once, Dante wasn't able to make light of the situation at hand. He rested his fist to Enji's heart. "You gotta rely on yourself, and no one else. You're the only person you can ever count on." Dante said, and jerked his thumb at his own chest. "I had to learn that the hard way, too."

An icy shadow swept across the teenager's face, and Enji leaned away from Dante. They looked each other in the eye, their body language mirroring the other's languid pose; deceiving masks of indifference to hide the hurt. Then, as one, they moved. Dante headed for the dark, lonely street. Enji brushed past him in the opposite direction toward an upset Nero and furiously worried Kyrie. Their steps were slow and identical at first, then picked up the pace as resolve set in. Neither one looked back.

 

[Vergil'sBitch]

I enjoyed that... great work Master C.

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Thanks VB =]

 

[The crazy demon]

i liked it, sorry i would post sooner but now i can tell you this.....is very awesome

 

[Dante's Stalker]

i liked it, sorry i would post sooner but now i can tell you this.....is very awesome

Thanks man! Glad you liked it