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fanficparker · 3 years

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A GAME OF DIAMONDS AND HEARTS // H.O.

>> CHAPTER TWO

"The reward of sin is death? That’s hard." - Doctor Faustus, Marlowe

(Frenemies to Lovers! Mob AU! ) Harrison Osterfield x Fem!OC

Word count: 2.45k words

Warning: Swearing, jerk behaviour, keeping hostage, guns, blood and violence, sexual tension.

Synopsis: After the sudden death of his uncle and the eccentric multi-millionaire mafia king Lufian Clarke, Harrison Osterfield’s almost decent life is mostly devastated especially when half of what should be rightfully his fortune is transferred to their immediate rival for reasons he doesn’t know. What’s remaining is him trying to figure out how to deal with this collaboration of two rival corporations that don’t belong together and work on the side of the woman he never knew would ever be referred to as his partner in crime while they are dragged into a mess bigger than what they were trained to handle.

<< ONE [ MASTERLIST ] THREE >>

"Kill her."

Harry coughed. Twice.

"You know that's not possible," because if it was, wouldn't they have eliminated all their rivals already? The mafia was no easy business. It was equivalent to living on the edge without a rope tied to your waist to pull you back in case you fall off the cliff. Rather there was a rope tied to your ankle, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pull you down.

Harrison licked his dried lips as he rose from the desk, stepping closer to him. "Yeah and that's why Tom should be here, not you." He paused for a moment before mumbling: "Kid," amusement crossing his sharp features.

Harry's stomach rumbled with anger. Oh, and you are an obtuse twenty-four-year-old crazy old man who is also a big ass jerk.

He wanted to punch that grimace off his face.

The only reason he was a part of the mafia was that he believed in Clarke's philosophy, his ideology, his way of dealing with things but with Harrison on board, was it even the same anymore?

Harrison crossed the nineteen-year-old, barging into the door to exit the room. "Ask Tom to meet me in the car at seven. And until then I don't want a single soul near myself." He stated before putting a foot out of the door.

Harry expected to hear his departing footsteps but Harrison rather took a foot back, meeting the redhead's eyes with a steady gaze.

"And from next time," He warned, "knock before you enter." And with that he left, his footsteps echoing behind him.

All Harry could do was clench his fist.

***

It was a business agreement but it felt more like a marriage. An unwanted, forceful one. One where you hated your spouse to the moon and back and yet had to lose a part of your bed, life and love.

Why would you ever do this to me, Clarke? Why would you?! The anger and frustration bubbling inside his chest were too much to handle. He had left along with Tom and had captured one of Dino's closest men.

Dino was one of their new clients and had lately caused a lot of trouble from not paying the amount he owed to actually trying to fly off Europe.

If it was for any other day, Harrison wouldn't even bother handling Dino or any of his men by himself but today he needed a punching bag. A punching bag on whom he could pour all his pent up rage out. Beat his torment off another person's bones. That made sense to him.

He had dragged the man in the dark of the abandoned warehouse— the place Dino once used as a storage for his illegal weapons. The place he had tried to erase, pretend that it never existed.

Tom tied him to the chair for enquiry but Harrison was in no mood for that. He had already made up his mind. He didn't even let the man lift up his head to comprehend what was happening before Harrison's fist made a sharp contact with his jaw, knocking him to the floor along with the chair.

Tom watched from the side as Harrison grabbed the man's shirt, now dusty and violated with stains of fresh blood mixed with spit, establishing the chair back on the cemented floor with a thud. "Ask your boss to show up, will you?" He raised his voice several octaves as if to mock him for being so weak and helpless.

With blood sputtering between the guy's teeth, he tried to speak, "I--"

But Harrison instantly cuts in, circling around his chair, "Oh wait. What can you even do? You are useless for both me and Dino. That's why Dino left you here. He doesn't give a fuck if you live or die." He halted his steps and pulled the man's hair, sharply forcing his head back, jarring his neck, painfully stretching the muscles of his throat before spatting into his face, "You hear that? You. Are. Worthless."

And then he again swung his fist across his face, just this time he didn't stop. His knuckles throbbed with the sharp collision of bone against bone. His skin turned bright blue hidden by red. God, it felt good.

"We don't wanna kill him." Tom reminded, voice laced with disgust. This was brutal even for Harrison.

"I want to." He groaned, fisting his hands in the man's shirt.

"And here I wondered, Clarke's scion would be smarter."

His neck snapped at the voice. The source of the words— the silhouette emerged from the door, her heels hitting against the cemented floor as she strolled towards the blue light that filled the otherwise dark room.

Harrison recognised the voice well, he didn't need to wait for it to materialise into human form but he also didn't want to hear it, let alone see the person whom it belonged to. Somethings are inevitable, anyway.

"What are you doing here?" Tom was the first one to speak, his eyes focused on the woman who stood just a few feet apart from them, her shoulder-length dark hair sitting as a tight ponytail, high on her head, giving her the illusion of height.

She crossed her arms over her midsection, one foot slightly ahead of the other and let out a breath. "That's not a question, you ask your boss. Especially in that tone." Her words were sharp but not her voice or tone for that matter. For an outsider or an amateur, it would appear as if she was just there to ridicule the two boys. Yeah, in some way, it was true except for the 'just' part. Both Tom and Harrison were neither an outsider nor amateurs to read into that. They knew why she was here.

Harrison asked anyway, swallowing his boiling rage, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Her lips twisted into a half grin. "Well, you can ask that though."

The small laughter that followed her words made a muscle tick in his jaw. He was this close to snapping. Snapping to no avail. Snapping for vain. She had won. She had won his prize and there was nothing he could do to reclaim it. He couldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that she got him. No, she didn't. He reminded himself. No one could.

"I just came to check on you guys. Also, considering the fact that none of you noticed me standing right outside this room..." She looked over her shoulder, pointing a finger at the door, "Anyone could have shot you dead right there."

"And oh my god!" She gasped upon turning back to the scene, her voice infused with fake concern, "What have you done to this poor soul?"

The tension that hung between them had managed to make the muffled cries of the fourth person inaudible to the three pair of ears in the room. Maybe because he was the rat rather than the conventional elephant, people were so used to address.

"He is my client," Harrison growled, low in his throat— a thinly veiled attempt at trying to keep things civil.

"Not just yours." She corrected, flashing a small smile in his direction, more of a grimace, walking towards the man tied to the chair. The two guys watched her with narrowed, questioning eyes as she removed her coat, the draping neckline of her red top doing the bare minimum to cover anything.

She slouched across his chair, wiping the blood from the corner of his lip, softly smearing it across his cheek.

"Is this bad boy bullying you?" She momentarily shot a glance at Harrison. The man nodded, too afraid and too injured to speak.

Clicking her tongue in disdain, she gripped his chin tightly, her nails digging into his skin as she pushed the chair to the back, supported only by one of her heels. He jerked in his bonded state.

She leaned near his face, her breath tickling in his ear. "Why not better start behaving then?" She whispered, her lips brushing against the side of his face. "I don't like pretty faces as yours harmed."

Her finger traced over his lower lip, her nail scratching his wound in ways more sensual than painful. "Will you comply?" Her eyes flickered down to his lips.

He nodded instantly and desperately. He was charged up; her scent was filling his senses. When her eyes were back to his face, his slid to take a peek at her cleavage, a mixture of fear and excitement dotting his sweltering forehead with beads of sweat.

"Good boy," she muttered and dragged her foot away from the chair, installing him back to where they had started.

"P-Please..." The guy managed to utter when she moved away, urgency evident in his voice. A triumphant grin got pasted over her face in response, making her laugh at his needy request.

Harrison could bet that the guy had a mild erection even in his blood ridden pathetic state. The scene almost made him puke. Where he was using force and blood, she was using her body, sex as a weapon. Definitely not his way of working. Yet, he failed to suppress the dull tightening sensation in his abdomen—and the part below it.

She walked up to him, pulling her hair down, brushing them with her fingers. Her laughter had long subsided but its residue was still echoing in his head. He hated that. He hated her.

"Doesn't it spark old memories, Osterfield?"

His face flickered with annoyance. It was in his best interest to ignore her words.

"Let's talk over at dinner." She offered, carrying her coat on her elbow. Yeah, they very much needed to talk even when he didn't prefer it. So, he walked out of the room, waiting for her to follow.

"You should seriously take him back to wherever you picked him from." She instructed Tom as if Harrison wasn't enough for him to deal with.

***

"We had a reservation," she smiled at the hostess, "by the name of Sandhya Omar." Harrison, on the other hand, was somehow managing not to kill. Her, specifically.

The hostess smiled back, taking a glance at the register in her hand, "Welcome, Ms. Omar. Let me escort you to your table." She smiled at Harrison too. He didn't appreciate the gesture.

She led them to a table perfectly designed for two, for a date perhaps, placed on a quiet, dimly lit balcony. Harrison removed his blazer, hanging it over the chair before folding the sleeves of his beige-coloured shirt over his arms and occupying the seat. The hostess dragged Sandhya's chair, letting her sit.

She mumbled a quiet thank you.

"A waiter will be here shortly." She informed and left. She didn't lie; not a minute had passed and the waiter was already there, passing them two menus and pouring clear champagne into their flutes. Before he could proceed to light the candles decorated over the table, Harrison interrupted:

"We don't need that."

"Of course we need that, darling." She cuts in, smiling so pleasantly at him, just like a cat would smile at a canary.

It was the waiter who smiled back, at both of them, actually. "I will come back for the orders when you both are ready."

"Thank you. We will take some time, though."

"No worries, Ms. Saan—dha—ya."

"Just call me Sandy, it's fine." She shrugged away his absurd pronunciation of her name. The waiter just passed her an apologetic smile, walking away, leaving them in solitude, surrounded by nothing but luxury and privacy.

"Talk?" Harrison began.

"What?" She pretended to be clueless.

It was a game for her.

Not for him.

"You wanted to talk."

"You don't?"

He wasn't having it. So, she simply rolled her eyes, choosing to initiate. "Okay... I will start," she let out a breath, "My mob wants me dead because they want what I have inherited."

Funny, they and Harrison were on the same page.

"And you walked here alone?" He quirked a brow.

She slumped in her chair, one foot crossed over her knee, "You see, I am not alone." Her hands gestured at him.

He snorted. Ridiculous.

"You seriously think that I want you any less dead than them?"

"Yeah."

"That's foolish." He leaned across the table, elbows pressing against the wood, "I'd kill you the second I'd get the chance." He stressed certain syllables, gritting his teeth in fury. His tone dripped scorn.

"No, you won't. You need me." She stated as a matter-of-fact, straightening her back.

"You wish." He replied quickly, scoffing at her misplaced confidence.

Her phone on the table vibrated, providing them with the much needed break from cocking their verbal guns at each other. The sneer on her face vanished in a heartbeat, quickly replaced by fear as soon as her eyes scanned the glowing screen. She tapped the dial on her watch before leaning across the table.

"Listen carefully..."

He didn't.

Her hands grabbed his collar, pulling his face closer to hers, tautly stretching the fabric of his shirt, "Your life is at threat too!"

Her eyes glanced at her watch again.

"Four minutes and they'll be here." The slight flicker of the candle burning across the table animated a dance of shadows on their faces, projecting the fearful vibrations in her stomach onto the surface. "For both of us," she clarified, their face centimeters apart.

He laughed pulling himself back, not considering her words any worthy of his contemplation, smoothening the creases she had created on his otherwise crisp shirt. But she was quick to pull him again, not allowing his eyes to focus on anything else but her.

"This is no drill, Harrison." She warned, her dark eyes cold and hard and locked on his blue ones.

"In four--three minutes, there will be a smoke bomb thrown below our table, and that's our only chance to escape. Take the left side, use the pipes to climb down as quickly as possible. A car will be waiting for you at the side of the street."

He squinted his eyes in disbelief, an expression of boredom covering his face. "Why would I trust you?"

She sighed, pulling a compact case, keeping it between them, the mirror facing his side. His pupils dilated noting the reflection on it. It was the reflection of a person, holding a sniper rifle, standing on the rooftop of the building across them.

A chill crept through his heart. Their eyes met again.

In a tone that lacked any hesitation and provided no explanation, she gave away the second part of the answer, "Because Clarke didn't die... He was murdered."

Yeah, people like Clarke don't just die.

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…TO BE CONTINUED…

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spirit-of-the-void · 5 years

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Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 26

Author’s notes: I changed my mind, take this long ass chapter today and revel in my suffering

Chapter 26

The moment between you and Nero didn’t last for long.

The cold, hard reality of the situation was settling in. You couldn’t afford to sit and do nothing, not with Vergil at the top of the Qliphoth. That numbness was absorbing back, mixing with the endless need to confront the man, to give him a piece of your mind. You needed closure, you needed something. In the hollow void V and his familiars had left in your soul, anger and bitterness were taking their place, mixing with grief and loneliness. To be cast aside again, after so many years of people walking away--it was soul-crushing. In that moment, everyone in the van seemed so distant, all the people who loved you like static. White noise.

Honestly...what purpose did you serve anymore? You were useless to everyone, the very one you loved leaving you and becoming someone who couldn’t even be bothered to look in your direction. What if the others were like that too? Doubt was becoming so loud, ringing in your ears and quieting your logic. There was only so much left that could be done, a limited amount of times one could be betrayed. It left lingering self-hatred, insecurities, exhaustion. At this point, after this many instances of this happening...maybe they weren’t the problem.

Maybe it was you.

And what a way to make yourself even more glum. The time had come to go full circle, landing on the final stage of the process--blaming yourself. A girl could only suffer so much before wanting to give up, before it all became to much. Blow after blow, tragedy after tragedy...maybe you really were destined to always fail, to never truly be happy? What a miserable existence that was. Had you been someone terrible in a past life, only to face endless torment as a result? Maybe this was your fault. You could have done better, could have done more to protect V. To stop all of this.

The very thought made you pull away from Nero, taking a step back and pressing a hand to your temple. You needed to go, to move. You would make it to the top of the Qliphoth, all the way up to Vergil even if you’d die trying. But...why? Why bother? You clearly weren’t here to change a damn thing, that much had been made very apparent. Wasted time and wasted effort, the Deity’s motives scattered and unclear. All you knew was that you needed to go, needed to try.

“I have to go,” You whispered aloud, turning away from Nero just as he moved to face you. Staring in the direction Dante had traveled, eyes glassy and body still feeling like it had been hit by a truck, “I need to go to the top of the Qliphoth.”

Your Foresight immediately flared up at that, sending agony rippling along every organ in a very firm “no”.

Nero echoed the sentiment, grabbing you by the wrist firmly as you started to walk slowly away, “Like hell…!” He snapped, tone harsher than he probably intended, “You’re at your limit! Just what the hell will going up to see him accomplish?”

How were you supposed to answer when you didn’t know yourself?

You shook your head, tugging on his hold and managing softly, “I don’t know. I just know I...I need to go.” That was why you had been sent here, wasn’t it? To find out who tipped the balance and deal out appropriate punishment. At least...that’s what you thought.

“I can’t just let you go up there and get killed,” Nero argued, exasperation creeping into his tone, eyes staring at you with unyielding stubbornness, “What the fuck do you have to gain? Seeing that bastard again is only going to make shit worse, he doesn't—“

“I know…!” You yelled in reply, the force in your voice shocking even you. Nero flinched, hesitation flickering in his eyes as he continued staring at your face--he released your arm at the very least. You knew what the boy was seeing, about a thousand emotions ripping you apart and threatening to claw their way out. What the fuck were you supposed to do, to say, to feel? It was barely containable, leaking into your voice and projecting it with far more velocity than you would prefer.

You quieted your tone, wrapping an arm around your abdomen and turning your head away, “I know...I...just have to go,” You started walking again, the pain in your stomach growing with every step as you gritted out, “I have a duty to see this through.”

If I don’t go, if I don’t try...then what was even the point of it all?

That made the white haired boy sigh, words sounding so heavy as he replied, “I’m so fucking tired of hearing that. You sound like V when you talk like--”

“Stop,” You cut him off, turning to hold up one hand and stopping his sentence in its tracks. Too much, too soon. You didn’t want to hear it, your poet’s name alone making your heart pound painfully faster, “Please...just...don’t say that.”

Don’t say his name, don’t make me think about him anymore.

“...Sorry,” Nero muttered, rubbing the back of his head and turning his eyes away. Oh yes, there was most certainly regret in those gray-blue orbs of his. You felt bad immediately for snapping, shoulders slumping down a bit as he continued, “I know it’s hard, trust me if anyone fucking knows right now...I do,” He looked at you again, expression pained as he met your gaze, “But you can’t do this to yourself, not like this.”

You looked down at the ground, eyes squeezing shut at the pleading edge to his tone. Nero was trying so hard, he was just worried about your well being. But...you weren’t, unable to care any less about what would happen. Even now it was hard to muster up any energy to listen to his reason, his logic. You were reluctant to say you didn’t trust Nero, because that wasn’t necessarily true. The demon hunter had done nothing wrong, he hadn’t hurt you or betrayed you. But...the doubts were so loud, and they were swallowing you whole.

Will you really let him take even more?

But even then...what remains now with him gone? You, a cursed soul born to bear only sorrow and pain...surely all you would do is bring them down.

You swallowed hard, tone low and weak as you replied, “This is something only I can do...there is nothing left for me here, Nero.”

His body jerked at that, eyes staring incredulously and jaw tightening.

“Bullshit!” He snapped, words taking on the edge of a razor as he took another step toward you, “You’re better than this--better than what he fucking did…!” He softened his tone, eyes pleading as he whispered, “Do you honestly think any one of us would walk away from you like that?”

Fuck, he almost sounded hurt, like he could sense the uncertainties floating around your brain. The ones involving him, the others, the only people in your life. And that alone made you crumble more, filled with guilt and more of that gut-wrenching pain. How could you explain to him what you were feeling, just how many times people had chosen to walk away, to not care? You kept your eyes downcast, a shaking hand rising to grip your blouse. It was an unbearable feeling, a cold one, to never be wanted or welcomed by anyone.

Even your parents didn’t want you.

Heaven didn’t want you.

And now the only man you loved didn’t want you.

So why don’t you just return to oblivion?

The Void’s incessant whispering made you groan, pressing your hands to your ears to try and block them out. Deafening, ear-splitting. Like they were shrieking instead of whispering. It was trying to feed into your doubts, coaxing you to return to the embrace of the Void once more. Returning meant sleeping again, and that meant...losing every memory you had here, every experience, touch, and affection. He would never let you continue on this broken, the pain already crushing you and making you lose focus.

And somehow, living without those memories seemed like a worse fate.

“YN?” Nero asked worriedly, seeing the distress in your expression and taking a step closer.

You immediately tread backwards, not wanting to risk him grabbing you again. If the devil hunter was to drag you out of the Qliphoth, he was sure to succeed with how weak you were. No more energy left but fumes, and even those were hard to direct with the Foresight battering you at every turn.

“I’m fine,” You gritted out, obviously a lie as you lowered your hands, “On this...I will not be swayed. I need to get this out of me, Nero, this...this feeling. And I can’t do that in any other way,” You lifted your eyes, staring at him with so much loneliness and exhaustion that it made him inhale sharply, “I have to go.”

Just let me go.

You don’t need me anyway.

You turned again, hair draping over your face as you headed in the direction Dante had gone. You couldn’t waste any more time, not like this. It was too much to handle any more--something about Nero trying and caring...it made you feel guilty, like you didn’t deserve it.

Let no one temper this pain with comfort. It is a reminder.

“This pain will remind me that I am alive,” You whispered, eyes staring numbly ahead as you fought agony in each step, “And I’ll take that punishment for my ignorance.”

You had done this, no one else. Holding in your questions, desires, and thoughts had only resulted in disaster. Not enough strength, not enough courage, not enough of anything. And that hesitation had lost you the one thing you loved the most. In that aspect, the Deity was correct--you were a fool to believe things could work out when you knew all along they were doomed. You ignored your own gut, ignored the truth hiding behind each question as an attempt to shield yourself from the oncoming disaster. But it still hit you, and wrecked everything it touched.

But something about what you said did not jive with the white-haired boy.

Nero let out a growl at your words, the sound of his footsteps rapidly coming closer echoing behind you as he warned, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Y/N, you can’t just--”

He was cut off by the Qliphoth starting to rumble, making you stumble forward and him back. You fell to your knees, definitely unable to stay steady on legs so weak. What the hell could possibly be happening now? The day carried enough excitement to last a lifetime. You braced yourself on one arm, a gasp of alarm leaving your mouth when debris started falling from the ceiling, landing behind you in hard cracks of sound. One after another, pieces of the floors above piled on top of each other in a wall of misshapen flesh and stone. Now that the fruit was gone, that Vergil had returned...the roots of the tree were falling to the Earth, losing its integrity.

Nero shouted your name, the sound drowned out by the crashing and banging filling the room. You barely heard him, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your ears. He could handle himself, that was for sure--fast enough to not get hit by anything. As for you...he debris was close, but only enough to settle some dust across your frame, on the dark tones of that blouse. Coughs burst forth, shaking your chest and rattling the pain already settling inside.

You didn’t move until the collapse had settled, turning in worry to see if Nero was alright. The rubble had blocked you off from him, cut him off from the path entirely. It was almost...you shook your head, slowly dragging yourself into a standing position and turning away. There was no way any sort of fate was on your side, not now and not ever. But it was for the best that Nero would be forced to turn back--he deserved better than to deal with his father any more. Dante was going to...was Dante going to kill him? Nero shouldn’t have to see that, or play a part in it.

Maybe that’s why you have to go?

Because you don’t want that to happen, do you?

That set your teeth on edge, a painstaking breath dragged through your lips. You had to see him, you had to see with your own eyes if V was truly gone. Nothing more nothing less.

You started walking again, letting out a sigh of relief when you heard Nero’s voice on the other side of the rubble, loud and frustrated as he started to try to make a path.

“Y/N! God damn it, you can’t just go up there and get yourself killed…!” He yelled, voice muffled and hard to hear as you moved further and further away, “Come back, just head down to the van..! You…”

I’m sorry, Nero.

All that could be done now was to move forward in silence, passing up a narrow tunnel in the dying Qliphoth. You let out a slow, exhausted breath, dragging your feet with each footstep and biting on pain. When was the last time you had been this damaged, mentally or physically? Unconsciousness was a threatening force, growing every moment the Foresight battled your limbs. You felt bad for ditching Nero, especially when he was going through a hard time too. But...how could you possibly face any of them now, the girls in the van who treated you with such kindness? Did you even deserve it? You had no reason to believe things would ever work out anyway, it was meaningless to try.

All you could do was move. Move and pray your body could take it.

Would you fight Vergil at the top? Protect him? Cry? That was something that surprised you, the fact that no sobs had left your body yet. Only tears, those shattered gasps and sharp breathing. Had you truly cried yet, a full body cry of despair that would release every pent up emotion at once? No...and you got the feeling it would never come, not while you could hold it back. It had been close before, when you saw V crumbling for the first time, but even then...you were holding so much back. For years and years you held it in, held everything in. But now…

Now you felt too numb, too empty to even try.

Return, The Void whispers wouldn’t go away, continuing louder and louder with each step, Return to the Void. Return. RETURN.

Like hell. You weren’t returning, not now. You doubted ever. The Deity had betrayed your trust too, after all. The feeling of violation and fear had not left, lingering in all the tormented spaces between your thoughts. How could he do such a thing after all the years you spent following him, doing his bidding and breaking yourself if he even willed it? Such lines of thinking were tempered with guilt, the sensation deeply unsettling and uncomfortable. If not for the Deity, you’d be just another voice screaming among the chorus of the Void, but…

Maybe that would have been best.

Onward you went, thinking of everything that made happened, of the ones you had lost. That night of passion felt like a dream now, one you wished had never ended. V’s hands, his lips, those soft spoken words...had any of them been real, or just lust? Was it so terrible to try and convince yourself that he truly loved you? It seemed so possible at the time, his actions speaking so much louder than words. The poet had protected you, hadn’t he? Waited when you were suffering your consequences and keeping you by his side. Or...had that all been an act, a means to get him safely up the Qliphoth tree? But even when you couldn’t share that energy, he was still tender to you.

V had even tried to convince you not to help him. So...what was the truth?

And more so, the things V had shared with you, those vulnerabilities and fears. Were those stories true? He had spoken of the mother he lost so young, about growing up alone and being lonely...Would that mean Vergil lost his mother, and Dante for that matter? Or perhaps that was just a lie, spoken to you to earn your sympathy. Manipulation. It didn’t feel that way--His pain seemed so achingly real.

Or maybe you were just reaching, grasping at any straws you could find. It was all that could occupy your thoughts, filling the silence that came with traveling up the Qliphoth alone. Open air had finally been reached, a series of ledges and paths leading up into the sky. The breeze would have felt more relaxing if it weren’t for how terrible you felt, cooler now than the heat and wetness inside that blasted tree. Onward you climbed, glad that this place seemed to have been already cleared out by Dante--scratches lined the ground, telling the tales of demons’ death and Dante’s attacks. He had definitely been here, a good sign in your opinion.

Your body could barely handle the walk, legs buckling underneath you quite a few times. Each instance only lead to you breathing for a few moments, gagging on whale oil before forcing yourself to stand. The pain was bitterly consistent , mixing with the whispers in an attempt to keep you down on the ground. Each time you fell was harder to get up from, but you refused to stop.

I’m not going back. Not now.

That thought solidified in spades when you heard voices carried on the breeze, both achingly familiar. One was Dante, the sound of him grunting and fighting as expected. But the other was what made your heart pound, breathes turning into gasps as you pressed up the next ridge harder and faster.

Griffon, that voice was Griffon.

You’d recognize his stupid, taunting squawk anywhere. Growing ever closer, loud and abrasive as it echoed in the high altitude air. The thought of seeing him alive, seeing any of the familiars again…

It was the only hope you had left.

Trying to climb in the state you were in was fucking agonizing, a strangled whimper finally leaving you as you dragged your form up over the clif fside. The tendrils you usually relied on were weakened, sporadic in their attempts to hoist and aid you. It was a difficult task, but when you finally pulled yourself up over the lip of the cliff it you found yourself staring in shock, heart pounding in confusion and disbelief at what you saw.

The image of Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare was like a kick to the gut, knocking all the wind out of you and making your eyes burn painfully. They were still here, not gone with the poet and still alive. But...that relief was fleeting, crushed into dust when you saw them fighting Dante, leveling the attacks they once used to aid in battles on him instead. And worse so, they were losing absolutely to the demon hunter. You could already see them growing weaker, unable to match Dante’s brute strength and abilities.

Why? Why were they fighting? What the fuck were they thinking?

You pulled yourself to your feet as fast as you could, blood roaring in your ears as you watched Dante raise his sword, going to level another attack on the bird you once held on your shoulders, laughing with, joking and--

Dante was going to kill them.

“Stop…!”

You were shocked that a scream could even be mustered from your throat, bursting out from your lips and carrying over the space. It caused the fighting to immediately halt, Dante whipping around to look at you the same time all three familiars did, sword still raised over his head. And there you stood, panting and battered on the edge of their battlefield, staring at them in pain and horror at what they were doing. The fact that they stopped at all spoke volumes, giving you even a little shred of hope that you could salvage something from this hell.

The look on Griffon’s face shifted for several moments, you were not oblivious to it. After traveling for him those few days it was easy to identify his emotions before they were hidden--shock, guilt, regret, sadness, then bouncing to a neutral expression. Shadow and nightmare were even less easy to read, but you saw the cat’s tail droop towards the floor, ears twitching back and forth. You didn’t realize how much you missed them until that moment, eyes aching to cry as much as you held it back.

“I thought I told you and Nero to go back to the van…!” Dante yelled, sighing heavily and frowning at you as he turned his body in your direction, “Stay out of this, kid, it doesn’t concern you…!”

You were so fucking tired of hearing that.

Everyone seemed so hellbent on deciding where you belonged and where you didn’t, which conflicts were your business and those that weren’t. How could he say that to you, after everything suffered and how much Vergil...V...both of them hurt you?

Your opened your mouth to reply, indignation burning in your gut among the ice and pain, but Griffon cut you off.

“You shouldn’t be here,” He said flatly, narrowing his tri-pupil eyes on your form and adding, “Hate to agree with Dante, but he’s right.”

His words stung you terribly, breath catching in your chest as you squeezed your blouse again. Squeezed until your fingers felt numb. His tone sounded so cold, detached, and that tripled the hurt you felt. Even Shadow looked away from you, eyes staring flatly at Dante as they bared their fangs. Was this...really what it was coming to? Did they not care at all now, with V being gone? That alone made your eyes tear up, throat feeling like you had swallowed glass when you tried to breathe.

But the look on Griffon’s face before...you hadn’t imagined that, had you? Those brief flashes of emotions, the grief and regret. They had seemed real, but maybe...you had been reaching again.

Please. No more. I can��t take anymore.

“Do you honestly think I would just stand idly by?” You whispered, staring him down with firm eyes as you tried to calm your breathing, “While you all fight up here like this?”

Griffon scoffed bitterly, ruffling out his feathers as he turned his face away.

“Sorry, toots,” He said simply, tilting his head to the side and growling at you, “But we don’t have time to play pals with you anymore.”

Is that all he boiled it down to? Playing pals? You swallowed hard, thinking back on all the moments you shared, every laugh and smile, those times where he was the only friend you had to talk to. Was that all an act too, just like how you were afraid it was with V? It had been so god damn precious to you, each moment he landed on your shoulders, beak to your face. When Shadow opened up to you, purring and soft after your nightmares…

It was all so fucking important.

Return to the Void. Leave them. The Void whispered, sensing your thoughts and doubts. They were only growing louder, threatening to overwhelm you right when you needed to stay the most level. You refused, deciding that there would be no yielding to them, no going back—There was so much that still needed to be done, to be said.

I’ll be damned if I don’t try.

You clenched your fists, voice coming out strained and raw as you countered, “Is that it then? Just going to drop everything, throw your lives away like they don’t matter?”

Griffon let out an annoyed huff, leveling his eyes on you again as he snapped, “Don’t you get it?!” He raised his sapphire wings, eyes sharp and cold as he lifted in the air, closer to you now. The gusting from his flapping made your hair sway, but your eyes wouldn’t move from his. Through it all Dante watched, quiet and expression unreadable. Like he wanted to see how things played out.

“V wasn’t the only thing cast off from Vergil,” Griffon glowered at you, tone harsher than you had ever heard it, “We’re just nightmares, the culmination of Vergil’s abominable thoughts. And a nightmare can’t feel anything, princess--that’s a fact you need to get through that pretty little skull.”

You felt your hands begin to tremble, trying to keep your expression neutral as he flung blow after verbal blow at you, dipping his talons into your despair and ripping it back out again. Even that nickname, what he had called you before you were friends. Before he knew you.

“It’s over,” Griffon said simply, a bit of a laugh mixing in with his tone as he went to turn away, “Now get lost. We have a demon hunter to fry.”

You felt your breathing go faster and faster, legs threatening to collapse under the weight of your despair as you opened your mouth to beg, to plead, anything to convince him otherwise. Gods, it couldn’t end like this. You couldn’t watch Dante kill them in front of you, not after losing V.

Please don’t do this to me, don’t….!

You fought back a whimper, eyes burning with threatening tears as you took a step in his direction.

But you didn’t make it any further.

Return return return.

No more running away.

Return to the Void NOW!

Before you could so much as muster a word to Griffon, the Void whispers turned into screaming, your eardrums rippling with pain at the sensation. You cried out, covering your ears and body crumpling to your knees as you tried to force the sensation away. Pain, so much pain, and now a cold feeling was growing at your back. Like being caressed by ice, the chilly wind wrapping around you until you were frigid with it. There was no mistaking that feeling, that prickling along your spine—that was the Void calling, demanding that you answer. Like the screaming of a thousand voices, millions, worming their way into your skull.

You felt the instant a portal opened behind you, hundreds of ethereal hands reaching out and grabbing several parts of your body, hard and unyielding. You heard the others around you gasp, but you couldn’t see them anymore—one of the hands clamped down over your eyes, fingers as black as the Void and so fucking cold you couldn’t stand it. They started to drag you back, pulling you toward the portal behind you mercilessly and strong—making you return back to the very place you didn’t want to go.

The Deity had enough. He was now forcing your hand, making you come back in a way you had never experienced. Terror filled your whole body once the realization set in, an alarmed cry breaking past your lips as every barrier fell. The pain, the anguish, the panic...they were now on full display, no longer able to hold back in the face of such unrelenting fear.

Return. Return. Return.

He demands it.

You will return now.

“No!” You screamed, fighting and thrashing against the hands as your body hit the ground, knocking all the air out of your lungs. The tears came soon after, white hot and desperate as they rolled past the fingers and down your cheeks. Gulping sobs started to wrack your frame, making it hard to breath as you fought and fought with every ounce of strength you had left. You didn’t want to go, you wanted to stay. Scared, so scared. Nothing like this had happened before, your worst nightmares coming to life one after another.

He was going to erase everything.

He was going to take your memories of V, Griffon, Shadow, Nightmare, everyone.

You would wake days, months, years later. And you would be empty of them all, save for some lingering traces of agony you wouldn’t be able to place.

You didn’t want to forget. You didn’t want the ones you loved to become ghosts of memories, all feelings without substance.

“No no no…! I don’t want to go back…!” You wailed, fingers trying to dig into the ground as you sobbed, desperately fighting the strong force dragging you inch by inch, “Please…! Please don’t do this…! I don’t want to go back to that place…!”

It’s so cold there. It’s so lonely.

Please, I can’t feel that anymore.

“I’m scared…!”

You didn’t hear the rush of wings or claws on the ground, nor did you hear Griffon’s shriek of alarm over the Void’s howling. But the claws that latched onto your shoulders were unmistakable, and it made you gasp in shock.

Griffon was holding you, flapping wildly against the hands trying to drag you through the portal. You could hear him cursing, grunting and straining as he tugged and tugged, talons digging into your flesh. Claws skidded over the ground, Shadow’s teeth clamping on your arm and tugging as well. You could feel them growling against your skin, panting and pulling with all their might. The familiars were trying to save you, they were…You felt your body shaking at the realization when it hit, desperate sobs bursting from your lips as all of Griffon’s harsh words dissolved like smoke.

Return. RETURN! The Void continued to scream, words punctuated by the hands gripping you harder, cutting off circulation now. There was no way Shadow and Griffon could manage, not against the will of a God. The thought alone made you cry harder, hyperventilating as panic gripped your heart so tightly it felt like it would burst. It didn’t diminish even as Nightmare joined the fray, his strange, large hands clamping down on your waist to hold you firmly planted against the ground. No matter what they all did, you were still sliding, nearing the portal inch by inch.

Please don’t let them take me. Please.

“I don’t want to go…!” You sobbed softly, breath hitching painfully in your throat as you struggled even more, “Not back to the dark, the cold…! I can’t take anymore...I don’t want to forget…!”

I’m so scared. Please save me. Please.

Griffon let out a snarl of desperation, voice strained and sharp as he squawked above you, “We have you, toots…! They won’t take you, not over my dead body…!”

The problem was none of you would get a choice.

Right as your feet started to touch the portal, when came the thought all hope was lost, you heard a sound from where Dante stood in his corner of the battlefield. For a moment, you forgot he was there, lost in the panic and fear and unable to gather your thoughts at all. But he made his presence very known in an instant, your eyes flying open in shock and a gasp catching at the back of your raw, scream-battered throat.

You heard him let out a shout, followed by the sound of metal whipping through the air over and over again. It traveled right over your head, passing by Griffon’s startled form and making him release a squawk of alarm. You realized belatedly that it was the sound of Dante throwing his Devil Sword, the blade impaling right at the center of the portal opened behind you. It landed with a thick, metallic crack, one that definitely resemble the sound of cutting into flesh. The moment it hit the hands dragging you vanished, the screams of the Void disappearing with low shrieks of pain. Relief, so much relief hit you—more than ever experienced before. You fell forward, pulled away by Griffon, Shadow and Nightmare now that there was nothing holding you back.

A sob left your throat, body resting on the floor as you tried to catch your breaths. Every part of you was trembling, shaking terribly as you tried to reign in the panic, the fear, the pain. But you couldn’t, that dam now broken wide open in the face of something so terrifying happening to you. Visibility had returned, but your eyes were swimming with so many tears that it didn’t matter. They rolled down your cheeks, dripping onto the dead, greying roots of the Qliphoth.

You were scared, you were so scared.

Shadow let out a low growl, wrapping around your form and baring their teeth at the portal behind you as Griffon yanked you into a sitting position, claws no longer embedded in your skin. You felt him press his beak to your cheek, voice overly loud in your ear as he squawked at you.

“Can you hear me? Toots? Are you alright?” He asked anxiously, feathers puffed out in distressed as more tears rolled down your cheeks. He called you toots this time, not princess. That alone was an even heavier relief on your heating, aching heart

You could manage no reply, wrapping your arm around your stomach and pressing your other hand to your mouth to hold back bile. You couldn’t breathe, the stress and anxiety were too much now. Drowning you.

Griffon could sense that distress, letting out a low trill and nosing your face a few times, “H...hey, come on now—it’s okay, yeah?” He stammered, awkward and not used to comforting someone crying, “You’re safe, we won’t let those freaky hands have you, okay?”

You sucked in another breath, trying to find the will to reply when you saw Dante stroll past you, a bemused smile on his lips as he stared at the portal. You inhaled sharply, turning your head to watch him and see just what the hell he had done—first thing to accept was that he saved you, stopping the hands in their attempt to drag you back to the Void and setting you free. It was his way of doing it that shocked you, and the events that followed that made your heart freeze in your throat and disbelief curl into a ball within.

He walked up to the portal where his sword was sticking straight out, eyes sharp despite the lazy expression on his face. Cold, cocky, annoyed. You read that very easily, noticing how his jaw tightened and his gaze narrowed on the swirling blue and black. He reached out, grasping the sword’s handle and yanking it out, and what came with it is what was most shocking. The air around you went bitterly cold, filled with the howling of the Void and a deep, low hum of energy as Dante retrieved his sword, impaled on it the body of a young man, his face the—what did his face look like again?

No that...that wasn’t possible.

That couldn’t be happening.

Your eyes widened, a gasp of alarm and fear filling you when you saw your Deity, held perfectly poised with the sword stabbed straight through his chest. Seeing him in the real world, in the flesh was...unnerving, like looking into a hole that extended so deep that you couldn’t see the bottom. The Deity was an enigma, every feature on his body visible but lost in the mind before memory could commit to it. What was his hair color? Dark, you think, but it still doesn’t register. Is he pale? Tall? Short? All you could remember was those dark eyes, staring with cold emptiness at the Devil hunter wielding the sword.

By the Void, there was no way he was here.

Your Deity rarely showed himself to anyone but his followers, but to allow such a thing to happen was...unheard of, completely unbelievable. You could feel Griffon and Shadow staring at him in shock, seeing a God in the real world for a second time, only now in his flesh form. The Deity only left the Void in brief spurts, rarely in physicality, so this was…

This was unreal.

He was not fazed by the sword impaling his insides, expression calm and a smile playing on his lips. Those black eyes stared down at Dante, the blue glow of the Void illuminating them both as the cold grew and grew, the area around you all seeming to darken. Wind was whipping your hair, kicking up dust and making Griffon yelp and hold onto you tighter. All you could do was stare in shock, heart pounding so hard it filled your ears with a dull roaring. You had never seen your Deity do this, not in any of the years you served him. To allow himself to be stabbed, to let Dante pull him out of his domain...what did he hope to accomplish? What was this game?

Unease filled you, spreading to every corner of your mind and making you tremble in fear. But Dante? He wasn’t fazed either.

He stared your Deity down, face calm and unimpressed by the display of power. He tilted his head, whipping out one of his pistols in his free hand and pointing it at the God’s face.

“Bet you think you’re hot shit,” He commented, raising a brow and raising his lips in a half smirk, “Making an entrance like that, trying to drag her back to your stinking little hole in the dark.”

The Deity smiled wider, looking bemused as he regarded Dante. And a bit...impressed? You blinked, unable to read his expressions considering that you could never remember them. The Deity was an enigma, completely incomprehensible no matter how hard you tried. Even now, as you watched you had no idea what to expect—would he retaliate? Leave? Sending the Void back for more.

But he only smiled wider, seeming absolutely delighted by the whole situation as he pressed his fingers to the Devil Sword. It didn’t like that, a sizzling sound ringing out as it sent a warning pulse of energy up his fingers.

“How...interesting,” He mused, raising his fingers and gazing at them in mirth, “I haven’t felt an energy like that in such a long time.”

Had your Deity met Sparda then? When? And how?

Dante clicked his tongue, cocking his gun right between the Deity’s eyes as he replied, “That so? Enjoy it while you can, because you won’t be staying,” He dug the blade in deeper, inciting no reaction from the God as he said cheerfully, “Why don’t you piss off and find somewhere else to find your entertainment?”

That earned him a low, ethereal chuckle, The Deity tapping his fingers over and over again on the sword despite its adverse reactions. Where he touched, ice formed and melted in an instant. He was testing its power, seeing how it would hold up to the Void’s energy in its purest form. You didn’t understand why, his reasoning for doing all of this at all. He hadn’t even looked at you yet.

What is going on?

“How incredibly fascinating,” His voice was a deep hum, black eyes staring Dante down eerily as his hair drifted on the swirling wind, “Tell me why I shouldn’t take my child back to the Void from whence she came? After all she has done to disobey me?”

Those black eyes turned slowly to look at you, making your body cower like a child about to be struck by their father. Shadow, despite the absolutely obvious threat level, coiled around you more protectively, baring their teeth at the God in a snarl. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what the black eyed bastard was thinking, his motives. This was uncharted territory wherever he was concerned, having spent years in a cycle that you had long grown used to. When had he ever done this, been so reckless and out in the open? So cruel? There was not a time you could remember that was like this, not unless it was erased from you.

The Deity smiled as if he sensed your thoughts, that little curl of his lips making a shiver travel down your spine. Nightmare took a few steps up behind you, a silent giant that was equally as threatening as Shadow’s growling. As for Griffon, he was situated on your shoulders as always, a bit of his energy crackling in the air as he warily prepared to defend you.

Protection. They were trying to keep you safe. Something about that made more tears drip down your cheeks, pattering onto your lap and thighs.

Dante definitely didn’t like the Deity focusing on you, pressing the gun right up against the ethereal man’s forehead and tilting it back a bit. Immediately, all attention was returned to the smirking Devil Hunter.

“Your ‘child’ huh? Guess you’re not earning any Father of the Year awards any time soon,” He said sarcastically, tone taking on a sharp edge that surprised even you. He pressed harder, eyes not wavering from the Deity as he twisted the sword in his chest with a sickening cracking sound. You immediately flinched, eyes wide and shocked at such an action. The Deity didn’t even bat an eye, even when Dante continued on firmly, “Why can’t you gods get it through your head? Human souls aren’t your god damn toys to play with whenever you get bored.”

Is that what I am? Just...a toy?

Was it really so wrong to see the Deity as someone who cared?

Dante pushed the sword in all the way to the hilt, putting himself toe to toe with the bemused God as he scoffed, “How many dimensions have you sent her to, just to see how she messes shit up and hurts herself? You take advantage of vulnerable, broken souls and that shit doesn’t fly with me.”

Those words made you blink in shock, the realization creeping up on you and adding to the crushing despair. Was that all you were to the Deity, a toy that he was playing games with just to see how far he could push you? Time after time, you had done exactly as he asked and headed to a dimension only for them not care. But even on those missions, the Deity had been there to guide you at shrines, keeping up constant aid and communication.

What if every dimension was like this one, already set up to fix their own problems with you thrust in just to see how things could be shifted? The thought made your heart pound harder, vomit creeping up your throat and mixing with the whale oil. All this time, you thought the things you did were helping people, but...what if they weren’t?

What if you truly were the problem?

“You sound like you have me figured out,” The Deity hummed, tilting his head to the side and holding up his hands in shrugging gesture of non-caring, “Have it your way. I care not for this prattle any longer.”

As you watched on in shock, his body started to turn black from the feet up, morphing into shards of black crystal that started to fly into the portal behind him. The wind grew even colder, blowing so hard that Griffon squawked and clung to your shoulders just to stay attached. So this wasn’t the Deity’s physical form after all, just a projection of the Void? You met his gaze, breath catching for a moment as his black eyes lingered on you. Reading his emotions was downright impossible, but for a moment...you thought there was something akin to satisfaction in those murky depths. That couldn’t be right, could it?

“We will speak again.” The Deity told you, his voice carried on the Void’s whispers as the crystals extended over his face, swirling away until he was completely dissolved back into the portal. The instant he left, a crackle of energy rang out, bringing with it a bass hum as the Void’s maw shut once more. It felt like all the air left your lungs in a single breath. Every emotion, fear, and weakness slammed into you like a truck. That seemed to be the final straw, your body falling forward a bit as you struggled to hold yourself up. It was too much, everything was too much now. First the things with V, then the familiars, now this…

Dante clicked his tongue, shaking his head as the sword was summoned back to his body. You felt him looking at you, footsteps moving closer as Griffon started anxiously nudging your face again.

“Are you alright, girlie?” Griffon persisted, a low trill leaving him when the tears continued to drip down your cheeks, “C...come on, it’s fine! He’s gone!”

But it wasn’t fine. Nothing felt fine. Especially not after what he said to you, tried to push you away just like everyone else. You shook your head, pressing a hand to your mouth and trying to steady the emotions clawing their way out your throat. Your life, your purpose...they had all crumbled to pieces, and all you had left was the pain that it caused. To exist only to help others, to try and fix their worlds when in reality you were just a toy sent there to stir things up, to change them how the Deity saw fit.

Even the people here, you were never meant to help them. But…

“So much for a nightmare not feeling anything,” Dante chuckled, causing Griffon to turn and look at him with an annoyed grunt, “Put those talons right in your mouth, didn’t ya chicken? Came right to the rescue.”

Shadow didn’t seem to care, still curled around you and pressing their head to your back. The warmth provided was one of the only blessings you had after feeling that bitter cold. The bird, however, had the graces to look aggravated and a bit embarrassed. It was he who spouted such things, after all.

“Kindly fuck off, Dante,” Griffon snapped in reply, lifting off your shoulders and flapping his wings wildly, “And what about you?! Could have hucked that sword a lot earlier…!”

Dante shrugged, looking a bit bemused as he smirked at the annoyed demon, “Had to let you and the other two prove yourselves wrong first.”

That earned him an indignant squawk, Griffon puffing out his feathers like an irritated blowfish. You were only vaguely keeping up with the conversation, watching with blurry eyes as Shadow padded around to the front of your body, rubbing their fur along you like a house cat. For a moment, your eyes met, and you felt like your heart was going to collapse at the look Shadow wore. They looked...sad, eyes meeting yours and head plopping on your lap. You knew what was going through their head, reading regret in those red orbs as their tail dropped again. That expression, as well as it could manage, said I’m sorry.

Something about that only served to break you more.

You felt a sob hitch in your throat, pulling the panther’s head up so you could wrap your arms around their form. Shoulders still shaking, eyes wet with tears that kept coming even as they leaned into you, letting out a low purr that rumbled all the way to your lungs. You missed them. You missed them. No more loss, no more tragedy. It was so painful now, the thought of having to walk away from any one of the familiars. Did they belong to Vergil? Would they even want you to stay? The thoughts wouldn’t stop, and in that moment you felt selfish, more so than you had ever been. Because no matter what was decided, you didn’t want to go on anymore if they weren’t there.

Griffon immediately fell silent, probably hearing your quiet sobs and looking over to see you holding Shadow against your body. Nightmare slowly sat down next to you, a low rumble traveling through the ground as he settled his weight. How were you supposed to convey any of what you felt to them, this agony? The lonely, aching feel that came when V left, ever heightened when you thought that they would leave you too. It was agony, unbearable. And it left your drive falling to pieces, all energy starting to drain away.

“....” You heard Griffon’s flapping wings, landing somewhere next to you and pressing his beak to your arm. He let out a light sigh, the air of it gusting over your chilled skin as he mumbled, “Fuck, toots. You really don’t make shit easy, do you?”

You felt a breath hitch in your throat, shoulders starting to shake again as you squeezed your eyes shut. What he said was true, you knew that. All you had done was complicate what would have been an easy task, one that didn’t need interference.

But, despite all of that...It wouldn’t let go. The emotion, the caring, the love you had grown for the three of them. How could you just walk away, after all the time you had shared? It felt so wrong to want something after all the mistakes you had made, the loss you felt. It changed nothing, your mind barely holding together by the feeling of Shadow’s body in your arms.

Don’t leave me. Not again.

“Please,” You whimpered, stroking a hand down Griffon’s feathers, resting it on his back as your fingers began to tremble, “Please...don’t make me lose anyone else.”

You felt Griffon jolt a bit, feathers trembling and a small breath catching in his throat. It went so quiet for a moment, you weren’t sure if he was going to say anything at all. Dante stood by, silent as well despite all the bravado he showed earlier. You had walked in just moments before to them fighting, and if you hadn’t...would Dante have killed them? If a single moment had been wasted, you could have walked in on them disintegrating, becoming nothing more than a fleeting memory on the breeze. If no good was to come of you being here, you wanted to salvage one thing, just one. Your lack of action had lost V, you refused to stay silent anymore and lose the familiars too.

When Griffon finally spoke, his tone was quiet. More so than you had ever heard it.

“We...we’re just nightmares,” He rasped, but he moved closer to you and allowed you to wrap an arm around him too. His wings were tucked to his body, his head now close enough to press against your forehead, “That’s all we’ve ever been, the culmination of Vergil’s abominable thoughts as Nelo Angelo...We never mattered, not now and not then.”

His words made you hurt terribly, holding him closer and letting out a soft whimper.

“You’re more than that to me.” You whispered, tone breaking as you poured every ounce of emotion you felt into that sentence. Every laugh, jibe, the moments you all shared...He needed to know how much they mattered, all of them did.

Griffon fell silent again, forehead still resting on yours as silence made its home for a few seconds. You couldn’t predict what he was going to say, but then again you felt like it wouldn’t really matter. No matter what choice he made...there was no more going forward. Your body couldn’t handle any more, not after the scare that had occurred here. You wouldn’t admit it to the others, but...you had lost feeling in your legs, akin to what you felt that day of punishment. The only way up to Vergil would have been to drag yourself by your tendrils or ask the familiars to carry you. And neither was happening.

But more than all of that...you realized that going would only interfere more when you didn’t belong.

Had the Deity not sent you here, V would have still made it up the tree to become Vergil once more, of that you were certain. Maybe he had been distracted by you during the horseman battle, leaving him open to attack? The familiars would have kept him safe, moving up the tree and to his final destination of where he belonged. Just acknowledging it was so painful, making your heart pound painfully in your chest as you opened your eyes again. This conflict wouldn’t have happened, none of it, had you just stayed asleep. And as much as that hurt...it wasn’t really your place to press for what shouldn’t have been yours at all. Swallowing that pain, that pride...it would be terribly painful, but it was so necessary.

As much as it hurt, V and Vergil shouldn’t have even met you at all.

Griffon’s eyes opened when yours did, meeting your gaze with his own and letting out a soft sigh. You saw regret there, along with its close friends of sadness and guilt. He finally broke the silence, his strange maw opening and feathers puffing out again.

“We can’t go on without a new master,” He grumbled, almost begrudgingly so, gaze flickering away as he cleared his throat, “Know anybody who would want some cast-off dumbasses around? We ain’t got a lot of options.”

Hope budded, small and frail among the storm toiling inside. If he was implying what you thought he was... Your breath came out in a shudder, lips tilting ever so slightly into a smile for the first time since V had absorbed back into Vergil. You weren’t the only one with nowhere to go, without purpose or reason. The familiars had been thrown away from the white-haired male as well, left to their own devices and trying to fight Dante as one last ditch effort to prove they had worth. And in that...you shared something, a pain that no one else would understand.

If we have no home, we will make it in ourselves.

You squeezed him gently as you pressed your head to his and Shadow’s, closing your eyes once more, “If we’re to be cast-offs,” You murmured, sacrificing a bit more of your Void energy and extending it to all three of them. It was such a strange sensation, feeling the way their own demonic energy burned and ached desperately to root itself, “The best way to do it is together...right?”

Griffon let out a light chuckle, his demonic power activating as Nightmare shuffled closer, bowing over you and letting the Void power connect to them all. You could feel them growing ever closer, the bond between you all like threads of steel, one after the other. They hovered in the air, waiting for those final words to be spoken to seal the deal. The sensation grew and grew, like vibrations curling around all your forms and crawling over your skin.

“Say the word, toots,” Griffon huffed, snapping his beak by your ear, “And we’re all yours.”

You opened your eyes again, expending that final bit of Void energy as you whispered the incantation into the air.

“Through the Void, Souls are Bound.”

Those threads of steel snapped into place, sealing the connection between you and all three familiars in an instant. It was an uncanny sensation, being suddenly connected to so many other beings at once. You could feel each one of their minds, just barely sensible in their thoughts and feelings. Like whispers hovering on the edge of your consciousness. Griffon’s abrasive nature, the languid predator that was Shadow, and strange, intangible static from Nightmare. It made you grit your teeth, feeling a burn spread over your shoulders down to your fingertips. They were filling you with demonic energy in those locations alone, coming into your form like they did with their former master. Tattoos, you realized belatedly--they were forming on your skin.

When you opened your eyes again, the three were gone. But you could feel them, writhing under your skin, getting used to the feeling of you after spending so long in another. It was so odd--like being touched on your shoulders and arms but no one being there. You lifted your hands, breath catching at the black markings extending over your fingers. For whatever reason, you had less markings than V did, something that confused you. Even upon examining your hair, it was expected to be ebony in color, like the poet’s as well. But...only a part of your locks were now black, on the one side curled around your face.

Griffon’s voice whispered through your skull, startling for a moment as he sensed your question.

“You’re a full vessel, toots. Not half a person,” He grunted at you, sounding a bit tired as he took in all the feelings assaulting your body, “You really are a colossal dumbass, aren’t you?! How the fuck did you make it up here feeling this shitty? Why is everything so painful?” His squawks grew in anger, making you wince as he shouted, “Have you lost your goddamn mind?! What the hell were you thinking coming up here to challenge Vergil when you’re this fucking damaged…!?”

You winced more, putting your hands to your head and muttering aloud, “Christ alive, Griffon, please shut up.”

Dante chuckled at your words, taking a few steps closer to you and kneeling down by your form. You blinked, looking at his face with a bit of startled surprise. To be honest, you had forgotten about his presence for a bit there--The devil hunter had been so silent through that whole exchange, standing to the side and letting things unfold how you wanted them to. It was pretty respectable that he would give up his fight, knowing how much he didn’t like demons in the first place. All in all, he looked pleased, wearing that lazy smile as he met your gaze.

“Bet that chicken is squawking up a storm at you right now,” He commented lightly, wind blowing his white hair around his face a bit, “Telling you exactly what I’m about to--leave this tree, go back down to the van with the others. Let me beat some sense into old douchebag up there.”

You lowered your head, feeling incredibly lightheaded as you examined the tattoos now tracing the tops of your fingers. There was no fight left, no argument worth making. This was defeat, pure and simple, but a small victory had come out of it. To even have the familiars back in your life was more than could ever be hoped for. But...you knew that every and any limit had been reached, body barely able to move and a deep-rooted agony pulsing through your limbs. Unconsciousness was threateningly close, held back by purely determination alone.

There were so many doubts, regrets, fears. Ones that wouldn’t quiet.

“Are you going to kill him?” You whispered, breathing rattling in your lungs like frost as you tried to calm the curling sensations in your gut.

That made Dante sigh, scratching the back of his head lightly as he thought over what you asked.

“Do you care?” He asked in reply, raising a brow and meeting your eyes with a searching gaze of his own. You didn’t know what to think of him still, not after everything that had transpired. But...you got the feeling that, despite everything, you had just gotten the wrong opinions on Dante. Stepping off on bad footing, both battling doubts about each other with such a lack of information. You felt awful, but what else was new?

“...Despite everything,” You mumbled softly, shoulders slumping as you admitted to him, “I do. Not just for me, but for Nero as well. Can’t you both settle your differences and...and...not do this to him?”

To find out he had family, only to be forced to the sidelines while they tried to kill each other...it was more than cruel to the boy. Downright unfair, to be frank.

Dante let out another sigh at that, rising slowly to his feet as he grunted in reply, “Wish it was that simple...This shit never seems to end,” He seemed to stare off into the distance for a moment, remembering things from the past that you didn’t understand, “Either way, he needs a beating and then some for what he’s done.”

That you could understand at the very least. But...there was so much more, the insecurities swirling around your head that needed to come out. Vegril was Dante’s brother, right? Would he even begin to know what was going through the surly man’s head?

“Was any of it real?” You whispered, half expecting him not to answer you. Each moment with V was implied in those words, mingling with grief and hesitation now that you knew exactly what had been hidden from you, “Everything that he said...felt...about me? Or was I just another means to an end…?”

Was it all a lie?

Dante went quiet for a moment, gaze still staring off in the distance and deep in thought. For a moment, he looked fairly wise. More like a demon hunter who had fought and fought his whole life to keep humans safe.

“As long as I’ve known Vergil, he’s been the most stubborn dickhead I’ve ever met,” He finally replied, a bit of a smirk tilting his lips, “He’s a prideful bastard, hellbent on power and refusing to waste time on anything else. But...V was his humanity, the most repressed part of him,” Dante turned his gaze to you again, smile fading a bit as he continued, “So I can’t say for sure what he did or didn’t feel. But...I know Vergil is far too prideful to ask for affection or anything, to share himself with anyone. None of the shit I saw when he was with you, so...take that for what it’s worth.”

You didn’t know what to feel about that, or what to glean from it. Dante’s deduction was the word vomit equivalent to a shrug.

But Griffon was there, hovering on the edges of your conscious mind and hearing everything that was said. You felt him stir, his thoughts pressing against yours and voice so quiet.

“For the record, toots,” He said gruffly, voice ever so faint and filled with regrets, “I was in his head, what Shakespeare felt for you...well, it was more real than anything he was used to.”

Hearing that from the bird was just...it somehow made things hurt more, the reassurance both a blessing and a curse. You clutched a hand to your blouse, more tears rolling down your face as you tried to swallow down more whale oil. If Griffon said it was true, was it alright to believe it? You could tell it was what he honestly believed, in no way a lie or an exaggeration. The connection you shared definitely kept things truthful. But...V was now gone, lost inside the sea that was Vergil and taking that love with him. And that ache was more than you wanted to stomach at the moment.

“...Even if I go down there,” You mumbled, exhaustion in your tone and eyes squeezing shut, “I shouldn’t have been here to begin with...would they even really want me?”

I refuse to be a burden on others.

Dante scoffed, walking over and planting a firm head on your hair. You let out a surprised sound, feeling him ruffle it lightly as he replied, “Y’know, when I stopped by the van on my way up one of the first things Lady, Nico, and Trish asked me was where you were. They harassed the shit out of me about it--weren’t too happy that I had left you and Nero alone after all that had happened.”

That made you blink, heart squeezing softly as you thought of them all in turn. Even Trish, who wasn’t as close to you as the others. They had been asking about you? It felt strange, remembering all the times with them you shared as well. There was a strange ache in your chest in regards to everything, knowing that things had fallen apart so terribly.

They tried to help me, but in the end we could all do nothing.

“You seem pretty loved to me,” Dante continued, patting your head again and offering a friendly smile, one warmer than his usual smirks, “Best not keep them worrying for too long, right?”

Loved. The word felt strange in regards to you, but it was only confirmed by the familiars now inside your body. You trembled as you felt it from them, surrounding you from the inside like a warm embrace, chasing away that cold. And in that moment...it was enough, enough to make you turn around. To go back to the others and try. If the familiars could love you despite everything, to hold you so dear even after such short interactions...Maybe the others could to.

“I...I don’t know if I can walk,” You admitted, voice cracking a bit as you tried to bite back more tears, “I’ve pushed myself as far as I can go.”

Griffon materialized out of your body at your words, flanked by Nightmare’s hulking form.

“The big guy here will carry you down,” He said firmly, landing on your shoulders and pressing his face to yours, “We’ve still got some juice in us from Vergil’s rebirth, we can manage for a little while on our own before we return back.”

Nightmare nodded slightly, slowly reaching down with his large, club-like arms and lifting you off of the ground. Jostling your aching form was painful, a whimper escaping your lips despite all efforts. But Nightmare was trying his hardest to be gentle, you could feel that. He held you in something akin to an embrace, tucking you to his chest and cradling you protectively. It was funny--you had tried so long to find time for hugging Nightmare, and now you were finally getting it. When things were their most terrible.

You sniffled softly, eyes tearing up as you mumbled, “Th...Thank you...I’m sorry. For everything.”

Dante let out a scoff, waving off your apologies as he barked in reply, “None of that, you didn’t do anything wrong. Just focus on resting and getting to safety,” He gave Griffon a two finger salute, stepping back and adding to the bird, “Adios, Chicken. Make sure she gets back to Nico’s van in one piece, yeah?”

Griffon snorted, landing on one of Nightmare’s shoulders and ruffling his feathers. Or, at least you thought he did. Now that you were horizontal, eyes staring up at the sky...unconsciousness was overtaking you, edges of your vision swimming with black as each and every exhaustion claimed its victory. Tired, you were so very tired. You gave too much, felt too much, cried too much--now you were running on empty. The sky was still, somehow, blue. The orange and pink tints of a coming sunset dancing on the edges of the clouds. It was so strange to think that all this madness had transpired in one day, that you had met V days ago. It had been a lifetime extended over a week’s passing, but it felt like more than that.

That night of passion with V felt so far away. Your first kiss, hearing him say he loved you...it was so precious, but it came and went in a breath’s time. You both had certainly misbehaved, but you couldn’t find yourself to regret it while feeling so overwhelmingly numb. Your eyes closed, body not feeling any of Nightmare’s footfalls as he turned and started to walk away from Dante.

As you drifted away, you heard Griffon’s voice, low and full of warning as he spoke one last line to the demon hunter.

“Good luck Dante...You’re gonna’ need it.”

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