Happy family. Division. Brothers fight. Valiant warriors. Reflection. A life story of twins. (One Shot. Song fic.)
Seeds Need Love
Disclaimer: I do not own DMC or any of their characters. Nor the song, Seeds of Love. I am merely using the characters and lyrics for pleasure only, no profit. No suing, please.
In the field so green and so clean,
Seeds gaze up.
Eva watched from afar with a smile on her lips as the two boys played their game in the green backyard. She laughed when they laughed, tripping each other up as they raced from one side of the yard to the other. Her eyes shined gleefully with love as they continued merrily playing their game of tag. Behind her, she heard the light footsteps of someone approaching.
"I love you." Were the words whispered into her ear and she sighed with content. Closing her eyes she fell back into his embrace freely. He held her tight, never wanting to let go. Sometimes he was afraid that if he did, she would disappear.
Eva tilted her head back and kissed his chin, opening her eyes to stare up at him with a loving gaze. He drowned in those sweet blue orbs, showing a kindness towards him that he thought he never deserved. She smiled and he melted.
"Father, Father!" The two identical boys raced inside jumping up and down with excitement. They rushed their father and each gave him a hug from one side. Eva laughed with happiness as her husband looked almost helpless with the two boys wrapped firmly around each leg. He sighed and looked up to her with a pleading look. She grinned and shook her head.
Sparda looked down at his children with love in his eyes, but an impassive face that hardly knew how to rightfully express himself. He had never had reason to... before now. His two sons looked up at him with such admiration that he dared to smile down upon them. They giggled with delight and hugged him tighter.
Eva patted each of the twins once on the head, ruffling their hair briefly before pulling away, and then nodded towards the dining room table. A meal had been set out and only awaited the family to sit down and eat it. The boys ran to their seats while their parents made their way much more slowly. Everything was utter happiness as the small family ate their dinner.
The cloud keeps them from the light,
And the sky cries white tears of snow.
"Dante!" The younger twin heard his mother call out from behind, but he did not turn to look at her. Vergil had his arms wrapped tightly around his younger brother, shielding him from the sight he himself watched from their hiding position under the table. The family had gone outside after dinner to enjoy the slowly fading sunlight of evening. But everything had turned to hell... quite literally.
Vergil watched wide eyed as his father battled a huge looking angelic statue. Although the figure had wings and features of an angel, it was anything but one. In fact, Vergil would go so far as to call it a demon. His father jumped about nimbly as the beast swung its arms at him. When one finally connected, Vergil's eyes widened even further as his father flew through the air and landed with a horrifying crack against the wooden fence. It shattered beneath him and surprisingly his father rose without a second lost to time.
Sparda looked down to his left and quickly grabbed a large splinter of wood the size of a small baseball bat. Turning to face his larger opponent, Sparda wielded the stake like a short sword and rushed at the angel-statue-demon. He slashed at the creature in a passing leap and orange blood slowly crept out of the wound created. The monster hissed and threw its large hand at Sparda in a backwards lash, hitting the man square in the chest and sending him backwards to the ground once more. Sparda got up with a glare. The two stared at each other for the next few minutes in utter stillness.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, Sparda saw Eva make a dash for the back door, supposedly to grab Vergil and Dante to run away. However, with his attention focused on the demon in front of him, he noticed the creature also turn its head to find the movement. Sparda yelled, Eva froze, and Vergil watched in horror.
But still, fragile seeds wait upon the sun to shine,
Dark winter away come spring.
"So this is what they call a heartwarming family reunion, eh?" The younger twin said, still holding his white pistol aimed directly at his brother.
"You got that right." The older replied in a mockery of the entire idea. The two were enemies, there was no "heartwarming" anything between them. Not any more.
The two warriors clashed swords together in a deadlock and the rain splattered around them. The twins glared at each other across their weapons with a burning passion. It was hard to tell whether this passion was hate or perhaps even some odd sort of sibling love.
The twins continued fighting well past their first confrontation. Two more times they fought each other, Dante mocking his opponent arrogantly while Vergil obstinately refused to respond to the rude taunts unless to add his own sarcastic remarks. Something had gone wrong so long ago; the brothers were no longer a perfectly synced team, but rather bitter enemies. Dante never found out what caused his brother's betrayal to the light and sudden turn towards the dark. He only knew his brother wanted more power and he could not let him achieve it.
The last battle took place in the pits of Hell itself. The twins had put their differences aside briefly to destroy the common enemy trying to steal their father's power, but now Vergil longed for that strength that once belonged to his parent. Dante would not let Vergil have his way however.
"Give that to me." Vergil gestured towards Dante's half of their mother's amulet.
"No way, you got your own." Dante held the amulet behind his back as if shielding the sight of it would make his twin give up.
"Well I want yours too." The older stubbornly refused to be denied.
After the twins' verbal spar, the real battle began. The murky water of Hell's river splashed around as the two vied for the upper hand. When the battle finally ended, Dante found himself alone with the crying sky. Only it wasn't crying anymore. Yet he could still feel the tears on his face.
And the seeds once again will look up to the sky.
And I know they will grow strong.
A silver haired warrior opened the door and sauntered in with a confidence that clearly stated he was not afraid of anything. He looked around the room briefly, noting the once elegant, but now shredded curtains draping the walls and grand throne sitting up high behind him. The entire decorum confirmed the fighter's conclusion that the room once held majestic court sessions before its fall into demonic hands. Once his eyes had swept over the room, his gaze focused on the dark figure standing in front of the large windows opposite him.
Dante gave a smirk as he stepped closer to the figure, shaking his head and gesturing with his hands. "A man with guts and honor. I like that. But it's a shame you serve Mundus."
The Dark Knight stood facing Dante, his opponent now for the third time this fateful day. The knight gestured with his sword towards Dante and then stuck it in the ground. Dante watched from his side of the room with mild curiosity, waiting patiently for the knight to finish and start the battle. A powerful aura of blue flames and strong winds surrounded the knight causing Dante to step back and shield his head with his arms. When the silver haired warrior looked up again, the knight had transformed his head.
Suddenly Dante knew his opponent; understood why his moves were as mirrored to him as the reflection that approached him the first time the two met. For staring at Dante across the room now was his very own face. It was made of white marble, the eyes glowed an eerie red, and the hair was slicked back, but the face was still very much his own. The first time that day Dante suddenly felt apprehension at facing his opponent.
The knight stood up from his kneeling position and yanked his sword from the ground. As Dante stood there staring at his mirror image the Dark Knight gestured in the same cocky manner as Dante did his own opponents, beckoning him to attack. Dante nodded and gave his arrogant smirk, forgetting any troubles he might have felt in the brief moment the new knowledge struck him. The two warriors clashed swords as the final battle begun.
What seemed like hours later Dante managed to get in a critical hit. As the Dark Knight stumbled back, Dante stood leaning on his sword watching the fallen warrior's final moves. The knight knew he was defeated. He looked Dante square in the eye, a silent approval hidden within his glowing eyes. Blue flames engulfed the knight as he began to float in the air. Seconds later the aura shattered and the flames flickered away as the knight became nothing but a memory. In his place hovered a shiny amulet, which soon fell to the ground with a 'tink.'
Dante knelt to pick up the fallen trinket and as he reached for it a lump formed in his throat as his eyes slightly widened. Now he was certain who his opponent had been. Images and voices flitted through his mind, playing an old memory locked in the past. His breath caught in his throat as he closed his eyes and gripped his brother's amulet. Carefully Dante connected the two pieces of the amulet together, softly whispering the name of the fallen. "Vergil."
And the seeds once again will look up to the sky.
And I know they will grow strong.
Dante sat leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk, slightly dozing as night fell outside. He had been trying desperately to push away his recent memories from Mallet Island. Sure he had won, but there were a few uncertainties that would drive him up the wall if he continued to dwell on them. Like the memory of facing his dark opponent three times in a row. For some reason, he couldn't shake the odd feeling that accompanied his thoughts when he pondered the Dark Knight.
Besides, he had a reputation for being cool and calm to keep. He snapped open one blue eye to look at his only audience, the one person he had to keep up the act for at the moment. She looked so much like his mother sometimes it still sent a shock to his brain when he first gazed at her. But the resemblance ended at the flowing blonde hair and pretty face; she wore tight fitting black leather that was anything but moderate and had a much fiercer personality compared to his mother to accompany her different clothing style.
The lid of his eye slowly dropped back down as he contemplated the words he told her not too long ago, the words he said during their flight home after escaping the crumbling castle. He smirked at the memory, but decidedly agreed with what he had said. The sky was always fair no matter who you were. It would not try to hurt you or decide to betray you in your time of need. Sometimes it cried down on you or roared thunderously in a flash of anger, but it never purposefully harmed you for its own jealous reasons.
He frowned at the thought of betrayal. He had been betrayed once by someone he never would have guessed would turn his back on him. It still pained him to remember the days when they fought so viscously against one another. He had won the battles and even the war, but at such a costly price.
Dante sighed as he opened his eyes to stare unseeing at the door in front of him. No one had come to Devil Never Cry since it's new name burned brightly outside. He caught himself frowning again when he thought about the new name to his agency. Maybe he shouldn't have changed it in the first place, after all the name had come about because of that price.
"This is mine Dante. No one else can have it." Vergil's words still rung clear in Dante's mind the day of their, supposed, final battle. But Dante, glancing over at Trish once while she wasn't looking, could clearly see their mother's pedant and it was not in two pieces. After their final battle the Dark Knight had dropped the other half, the half that matched the one hanging around Dante's own neck at the time. Dante had come to the only conclusion he could faced with the startling facts: the Dark Knight had been his twin brother.
If so though, why had he dropped the amulet? Dante had the oddest feeling that somehow the Dark Knight had survived despite seemingly burning in his own flames. So if it had been Vergil, why then did he let Dante have his half of the amulet? Vergil would never give it to him, give him the means to control the true power of Sparda. Or would he? Did Vergil want Dante to have the power so that he could defeat Mundus? It was the only thing that made sense, even though at the same time it didn't.
Dante shook his head clear of all the inane questions, the very questions he had been trying to avoid thinking about since Mallet Island blew up. He went back to contemplating on re-changing the name of his shop when he saw Trish stir restlessly on the couch. He shrugged at her bored expression and was just about to make a dry comment when the phone decided to ring.
He stared at it almost uncomprehending while it blared out it's tone relentlessly. Before he could make the move to answer it Trish was already up and bounding across the room. She deftly reached out and grabbed it from underneath his hand, grinning at his blank face as she answered. "Devil Never Cry."
Dante heard the person on the other line say a few words while Trish nodded and replied appropriately. The conversation ended quickly and Trish set down the receiver with a smile. "This one had the password. Sounds heavy."
Dante nodded as a cocky grin began to spread across his face, troubles forgotten for the moment. He stood up smoothly and reached inside the desk drawer to withdraw Ebony and Ivory. Spinning them dexterously upon his fingers, he holstered them with a quick movement. Now grinning, he turned to Trish. "Ok. Let's get it over with in ten minutes. Can't let even one of those suckers live."
The door opened and the two demon hunters stood for a moment on the threshold. Trish held up her hand to Dante, flashing all the digits. "Five minutes."
Dante glanced at Trish. "More than enough."
And walking out the door Dante had one last thought. Maybe this family isn't so screwed up after all. Maybe we finally found our common love.