The Devils Cny Ch 1-2

[eiahmon]

Title: The Devils Cry Chapter 2
Category: Devil May Cry
Rating: PG-13
Devil May Cry and it’s characters and situations are the sole property of Capcom. I am making no money or profit off of this fanfiction and no copyright infringement is intended. On the other hand all original characters and situations are mine so please don’t run off with them without my knowledge or consent.
Summary: A daughter’s dreams of a place that Dante doesn’t want to remember make him recall things that he had once tried so hard to forget as the skeletons in the Sparda family closet come out to play. Lost family history is revealed, and people once thought long gone return.
SPOILER WARNING!!!: Spoilers for all three Devil May Cry games.

2.

“So tell me about that dream again.” Dante said as he leaned back in his high backed chair and put his booted feet up on the heavy wood of desktop in front of him. Alastair, leaning over the pool table, lining up her shot, shrugged.

“Nothing to tell.” she replied “I’ve told you everything. It was just a dream, a weird one, but a dream.” With her shot lined up to her satisfaction, she went to take it, but missed the cue ball by a mile.

“And having “just” a dream is why your hands are shaking like mad?” Dante said with a smirk. Alastair snarled. She hated it how he noticed things like that at times. It made keeping things from him nearly impossible. She did NOT want to admit to him, or herself for that matter, that the abandoned castle had disturbed her more than she was letting on.

“Settle down.” he said easily “Snarling doesn’t become you. Growling is much more your style.”

Giving up on her game, she rounded up the balls and put her cue stick away. She retrieved Alastor from it’s place on the wall, snatched a few rags and a tin of polish from her father’s desk, flopped down in a chair and began to give her sword a thorough polishing. Dante nodded in approval: he found it amusing that anyone who stayed in his presence for more than a few weeks ended up taking exquisite care of any blade in their possession.

“So tell me about the dream again.” he said. She glanced up at him for the briefest moment.

“May I ask why you’re so interested about it?” He shrugged.

“Something about the castle you described sounds familiar to me, that’s all.”

Alastair looked up at him again, trying to see if he was telling the truth or just fishing for information. The normally kept no secrets from each other, but this dream had unsettled her, and she had no desire to discuss it further. And Dante had a nasty habit of keeping anything that had something to with her grandparents or their deaths from her. He was also frustratingly tight lipped about his childhood. She knew that he had been orphaned as a teenager after the murder of his parents and lived with his godmother Rachael Areceli after that. She knew that his parents had been a demon and a human of course and had seen pictures of them around as well as a picture of a young silver haired man that she assumed was her father. All in all, she knew more about her grandfather’s rebellion from Mundus than she did about his home life and his wife. She wasn’t sure it that was funny or sad.

“Do you think it could have been Mallet Island that I saw?” she asked suddenly, causing Dante to start and nearly fall from his chair.

Alastair smirked at getting a rise out of him, though in hindsight seeing his angered expression it probably hadn’t been such a good idea asking that..... She knew about his missions and had grown up on stories of them, but Mallet Island was a mystery to her. He NEVER spoke of it, and she figured something nasty must have taken place there to make him so reluctant to bring it up.

“Why in the hell did you bring that up?” he snarled, annoyed that his start had caused him to spill his coffee all down his front. She held her hands up in surrender.

“I just asked, since to my knowledge that is the only castle you’ve ever visited. So where else could it be?”

“It’s not Mallet Island.” he said firmly, trying to wipe the coffee off of his shirt. “I can tell you that.”

“So where else could it be?”

Dante gave up on his shirt and cocked his head, a confused look on his face. “I’m not sure. I’ve seen a few castles, but that one I don’t recognize. Hmmm...” He trailed off for a second, thinking. Alastair rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her sword.

They sat in silence for several more minutes, until the jarring ring of the phone startled them out of their thoughts. Alastair didn’t even bat an eye as Dante picked up the phone, but she made sure to listen close to what he was saying. After less than a minute, he hung up, and she asked:

“What have we got?”

“Oh the joys of the job,” he replied “Shadows infesting a crack house a few miles from here. Already killed most of everyone inside. There seems to be at least six of them.”

She grinned. This just made her day. She loved fighting Shadows. “Cool, let’s go.”

They suited up and were soon on their way. As they went, Alastair thought that at least working for the drug dealers paid well.

******

She was back in the courtyard again. She watched as the dream played itself out, though this time there was one difference. During the castle’s happier times, she could feel an aura of demonic energy, though it was calm, peaceful, happy. The aura faded some, but not disappeared, as the sense of despair settled in. Later as the clouds gathered and the woman’s screams started the aura returned, though this time it was a different demon. It felt like several demons at once, and the feeling they put off was one of pure malevolence. And the ominous foreboding grew stronger. Accompanying it came an intense feeling of danger, for her and her family....

Alastair jumped into a sitting position, using her hand to muffle her scream. It was too little too late though, as she heard her father running down the hallway to her room.

“Are you alright?” he asked urgently as he come through the door, swinging it open so hard that it banged against the wall and left a doorknob sized hole in the plaster. She dropped her hand and fought to catch her breath. Seeing that she was in no shape to answer right away, Dante sat on the edge of her bed and waited. Once she had got her breathing under control, she took a gulping breath and told him the new details: the demonic auras and the feeling of impending danger for her and her family.

“Dad,” she asked “can you call Vergil and ask him if he’s okay?”

Dante nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do that right now - if you’re sure if you’re okay.”

“

I’m fine. Go call Vergil.” He stood up and headed for the door. “Get back to sleep Alastair.”

She snorted. “I’ll try. No guarantees though.”

Dante smiled at her and slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

He waited by the door for a bit to make sure she had gone to sleep, then went downstairs to the kitchen phone.

He stepped into the kitchen and reached for the wall phone, hesitating for a second. He had no doubt that Vergil, his nineteen year old son, would be awake, being that he was on the other side of the planet, in Paris, Vergil was in his second year of college, studying demonology of all things, and was spending the year in Europe to learn more of the demon lore and legends over there. Younger than Alastair by four years, he was the scholar and bookworm of the family, though he had undergone the same training that Alastair had and was fully capable of holding his own in a fight. Like his father and sister, he never went anywhere without at least one weapon, and he used the Beowulf gauntlets that Dante had given him with deadly efficiency.

Kicking himself for hesitating, knowing that Alastair’s feeling of danger for them could very well be correct, Dante picked up the phone and dialed his son’s number. It rang several times, making Dante’s heart pound nervously as he thought that maybe Alastair’s warning might have come too late.

Several more rings sounded through the receiver before he heard the click of the line being picked up and an obviously disgruntled Vergil answered.

“Yes?”

“Vergil?”

“Dad!“ Vergil’s voice brightened immediately. “How are you?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, last time I checked. Why?” Dante’s eyes sank shut in relief.

“Nothing major, I just wanted to check on you.”

“Dad,” His son’s voice suddenly became serious. “What happened? Are you and Alastair alright?”

“We’re fine. Your sister had a weird dream, and she felt something.”

“What?”

“She felt danger for us. And she asked that I call to check on you to see if you’re alright.”

“Great. I suppose it would be too much to hope that it’s just paranoia on her part.”

Dante snorted. “Not likely. She’s too good at this stuff. She knows the difference between paranoia and the real thing. She would have never asked me to call otherwise.”

“Damn.”

“I know. Just... just swear to me that you’ll be extra careful, Vergil. I’ve already lost enough family.”

“Don’t worry, Dad; I’ll be fine. I’ll be done with this year in a few months, then I can head home.”

“You’re studies going okay, then?”

“They’re going great! You know I’ve bumped into several stories of Grandpa Sparda already.”

“That doesn’t really surprise me. He’s been all over the world I think. How did you find them?”

Vergil laughed, a sound that soothed Dante’s frayed nerves considerably. “They found me really. As soon as some of the locals from the smaller villages learned what my surname was, they flocked to me to see if I was related to him.”

“You didn’t tell them did you?” Dante’s brows furrowed in worry.

“No, don’t worry about that. I told them no, but my looks gave me away, I think. It seems that Grandpa Sparda's appearance came down with the legend too.”

Dante chuckled. “So are you having to beat the girls away with the flat of your sword?”

“Not anymore.” Vergil sounded a little... giggly? What in the hell had happened to his normally serious son? Then, it occurred to him, and a grin spread across his face.

“Vergil? Did you get a girl?”

“Well, ah, you see Dad.... um...”

“Just spit it out Vergil.”

Vergil huffed. “We’re not serious yet, but she’s a nice girl and all, and she’s real interested in our family.” The grin abruptly vanished from Dante’s face.

“Are you sure about her?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m being careful. I know a little paranoia never hurt this family.”

“Be wary, Vergil. You know very well that we have a price on our heads, all of us. And many would do anything to reap the benefits of bringing one of us down.”

“Yeah, yeah, Dad, I got it.”

“Make sure that you do.”

“Yeah, alright already.” Dante smirked at the distraction in Vergil’s voice.

“So is this lady friend the reason why it took you so long to answer the phone? Hmmmmm?”

“Dad!!!” Vergil sounded positively scandalized. “We weren’t doing anything like that!”

“Uh-huh sure, listen son, just don’t do anything that you might regret later, okay. I’m not ready to be a grandfather just yet.”

"Da-ad!!”

Dante laughed, gleeful at getting a rise out of his son. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your business then, Vergil.” His voice turned serious. “Be careful, alright?”

“I will Dad. You two take care of yourselves.”

“We will, and Vergil?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. Be careful, very, very careful.”

“Love you too, Dad. Kiss Alastair on the head for me.”

“You know that she hates that.”

“I know, that’s why I keep doing it.” Vergil’s snicker was echoed by his father’s. “See ya, Dad.”

“Yeah, see ya.” There was a click and silence as Vergil hung up his phone.

Dante put the phone back on the hook and rested his forehead against the wall. He had a feeling things were about to get complicated. The last big complications in his life had been Alastair’s birth, twenty three years ago, and Vergil’s arrival, seven years later. True it had been tough at first, trying to juggle two children while training them to use their awakening demonic powers, as well as running his business, and going to various school functions. But things had quickly fallen into a routine, and now with both of them out of high school, things had settled down quite a bit. Vergil would be in Europe the rest of the school year, then he would return home for the summer. Alastair, who had always been more interested in the “hands on” part of demon slaying, had been working with Dante since the age of fifteen.

The two of them were his life, and he worried about them quite a bit. He didn’t know what he would do if he lost one or both of them. Deciding to get some sleep now and worry about Alastair’s dreams later, he walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Not surprisingly Alastair was waiting for him at the top.

“He’s fine.” he assured her. She visibly relaxed when he said that.

“Good.” she said “That makes me feel so much better.” He smiled at her.

“He's also got a girlfriend.”

“What?!” Alastair’s face showed her surprise - surprise that quickly turned to a look of almost malevolent glee. “Oooooooh, this just makes my day. He is so going to pay for what he did....” Dante smiled again, remembering how Vergil had so delighted in pranking and harrassing his sister's high school boyfriend that the young man had run away in terror, babbling about demonic familes and people that turned into hell spawn. He had given the then thirteen year old Vergil a severe reprimand and had grounded him for the next month, but even he had to admit that some of the stunts that he had pulled had been hilariously funny.

“Get to bed, Alastair. Nothing to worry about.”
“Fine, fine, whatever you say.” She turned away from him and went back to her bedroom. As her door closed he heard her say: “There is nothing to worry about, at least not right now.”

Shaking his head, his concern returning in full force, Dante went to his bedroom. Laying down, he reached under his pillow and felt around until his hand closed on Ivory’s grip. Feeling reassured at it’s presence, knowing that Alastair slept with Luce under her pillow, he was able to force his worry into the back of his mind and fall into a uneasy sleep.

******

He sat against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. He raised his head from where they had been resting on his knees and looked around his surroundings without really seeing them. He had long ago given up on hoping for a rescue. None but his few guards and his “Master” knew that he was even down here. Most didn’t even know that this area of the Underworld even existed. He slowly got to his feet, his chains clinking together as they were jostled. His muscles cramped in protest, unused to regular movement. They would come down for him soon, and they would have to unchain him to take him from the room.

When that happened, he would be ready.