Through the Eyes of a Demon

Chapter Four

-1-

Eva wasn’t a very good hunter. Where would she be if she was her husband? Well, to be honest, she didn’t have the slightest clue. Was it fair that she was married to him for so long, and yet, she knew nothing about him? She knew that he could be pathetically shy, he could get flustered easily, and he could be just ever so sweet. But now there was a new addition to his personality, he kept secrets. And this one was, indeed, a horrid secret.

She had come home the last night to a mess on the floor, which of course, she, herself, had to clean up. There was no doubt about what it ‘was’ either. She didn’t blame her sons though, mostly for the fact that they were much too young and innocent to yet have a girlfriend, and even if they ‘did’ have a girlfriend, they wouldn’t do something so … well, not without getting married first and NOT in the middle of the kitchen floor! Her sons were not devious boys! (And, of course, she wouldn’t dare think of them being gay…or having an incest relationship with each other. Eva’s sons would never commit such actions.) (…yeah…right…) (^_^)

Sparda was the only suspect Eva could think possible as the culprit. Did he just masturbate in the middle of the night and neglect to clean up the mess? She highly doubted that, so he ‘must’ have had someone over. She shivered in disgust, reminiscing cleaning up the evidence of her husband’s sin. Maybe he was sick of her, her and her “human” ways. Well, when she found Sparda, she’d give him some her of her two-sense. She would tell him that she didn’t appreciate him and his “demon” ways. Who was this secret mistress Sparda had found so appropriate to bring home, and … she frowned at the thought.

The worst part of this was that her sons ‘knew’ about it, and yet they wouldn’t dare tell her. Perhaps they just didn’t want to be in the middle of it all. It was purely understandable as to why. Or, perchance they did not wish for their parents to fight with each other. Those two boys were so sweet, thinking of their parents this way. Maybe she should head back to the house—no, first she should go to the mall and buy presents for her most wonderful sons! (Yay, irony!) She would give them all the love they deserved, and would act unsuspicious of her husband for the sake of her children.

-2-

“What the hell! Fuck it! I’m going back home!” Dante growled, clenching his hands into tight fists. As he was about to turn around, he looked back at the bar. He could hear people giggling from within its innards. They sounded so goddamned happy, and here was Dante just standing like a goof in the middle of a parking lot talking to himself. He should really get himself plastered, that way, he wouldn’t care.

Entering the pub, Dante felt his foot jab something on the floor, a loose tile, therefore causing him to fall. No one stared at him though, and he was thankful. He got up and made his way to the bar-counter. Dante looked around, noticing that it was practically empty, and yet, his thoughts crowded in on him in a way that made him feel positively claustrophobic. Augh, why did his life have to be so utterly confusing?!

God damn it! Why did everything have to suck so much! He wanted his brother, and didn’t really care who knew it. But, apparently Virgil wasn’t pleased with the idea.

“That’s the second time I’ve seen an attractive young man with such a look,” Dante looked up and raised an eyebrow at the bartender, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Whatya got?”

“Well … scotch seems to be popular with the depressed guys these days.”

“M’kay,” Dante answered disheartenedly. The bartender served Dante, winking at him in addition. Dante ignored it and sipped the alcohol cautiously. This was his first alcoholic beverage … he wondered if it would taste good with tomato juice. (Dante should banish those thoughts.) Would Virgil taste good with tomato juice? Perhaps….

Dante suddenly realized that there were about ten empty shot-glasses before him.

“Waddahell?” he slurred without realizing it. He tried to stand up. Struggling for balance seemed to be quite a challenge. As he staggered across the pub and reached the exit, he felt the sudden urge to purge.

-3-

Dante walked out of view and Sparda attempted to release himself from Mundus’ hold. His son … Dante could have ‘seen’ them. Sparda wanted to leave, no, he needed to leave, but Mundus wouldn’t allow it.

“M-Mundus, I saw…I need to leave,” Sparda whispered, paranoid his son would hear him otherwise.

“But we were having so much fun,” Mundus replied, pouting playfully, “do you really want to leave me ‘that’ badly?”

“No—I mean, I just need to—please, Mundus, I…” Sparda looked down, and he could hear Mundus chuckle lightly.

“You look so adorable when you do that,” Mundus attempted to kiss Sparda, but Sparda’s hands lifted up to rest against his chest, pushing weakly, almost reluctantly to keep the taller man at bay.

“I must leave,” Sparda squeezed himself out from between the wall and Mundus.

“Fine, but I can assure you that we will meet again. Mwuhahaha!” suddenly, there was a burst of purple and pink smoke, and once it had thinned out, Mundus was no longer there. Sparda sighed, wishing Mundus hadn’t left in such a manner…or at all. For some reason, he kind of wished that Mundus to had tried harder to stop him from leaving. Well, there was no point in dwelling over it, so Sparda headed for home.

-4-
(A couple of hours later)

Virgil sighed, bored and most of all, sick of his thoughts. He wanted to apologize to his brother even though he had a feeling it would probably be the hardest thing he would ever have to do in his life. Perhaps he should go upstairs and get ready for his departure to find Dante.

As he made it to the upper-level into the kitchen, he heard a loud bang. That would be the front door. Had Dante come home? Virgil went to check, but suddenly his father came in, looking as if he’d just been in a storm. His hair was messed up, along with the front of his collar which looked as if someone had tried to pull his clothes off. What on earth happened to him? Was it enough to make him forget about catching Dante and Virgil last night? Virgil froze.

“Father what—”

“I didn’t make out with Mundus, if that’s what it looks like,” Sparda said quickly with an uneasy laugh at the end of his sentence, striding swiftly across the room and into his own. Then he slammed the door behind him, causing Virgil to jump. Well that was rather intense … and did he just say something about Mundus?

…Something about kissing Mundus? Well, father had his own dark secrets to hide. Virgil was not the only one, and now … nor was Dante. But then again, mother might already know, isn’t that why she went out to look for Sparda? Unexpectedly, Sparda came out of his room again and looked shyly towards his son. Perhaps he did remember clearly about last night …

“H-have you seen … your brother?”

“Why do you ask of such things … concerning a person such as him that would be concerning a person … mmm … such as yourself?” Virgil rambled, obviously nervous.

“I … it doesn’t matter,” Sparda said, heading back to his room.

-5-
(More hours later)

“Nyah…shit,” Dante stumbled over the front step of his house, bashing his face into the door, “Fuck … please … not … again …” Dante wasn’t aware of this now, but he never wanted to be drunk, ever again. He was able to keep him self from puking for what seemed like the one millionth time, and opened the door. Dante entered his house, being in between the basement and first floor. Which flight of stairs should he stumble upon? Downstairs of course, considering his room was down there.

-6-

Virgil could hear Dante entering the house, but he didn’t sound too well. He went out of his room and saw Dante, sweating and looking paler than usual, and about to fall down the stair face first into cement floor!

“Dante!” Virgil triggered and jumped up, catching his brother before anything fatal could happen, “What the FUCK were you doing?!” Virgil frowned as Dante muttered something completely incoherent into his chest before pulling away.

~“What do ya mean what am I—WHAT THE FUCK!” Dante squeaked and half hazardly pushed himself away from his brother. What was wrong with him, did he hate his brother so much that he couldn’t even let him touch him? Virgil watched, blinking dumbly, as his brother flopped onto the ground hard on his ass and blinked owlishly up at him.

“Dante? Are you alright?” Virgil tried to approach his brother, who scuttled away and back into a wall. Wait … he was still triggered, and Dante had never seen him in that state before. Virgil quickly pulled his trigger back and watched as Dante … continued to blink at him stupidly before covering his mouth and looking quite green.

“Virg … what the—oh God” Dante went to pull himself to his feet and flopped back, slurring something that would probably have been unintelligent even if he was coherent, and smacked his head on the wall.

“Dante? Are you sick? Come on, I’m taking you upstairs,” Virgil stooped over and picked up his gorgeous brother, cradling him bridle style up the stairs and into the washroom, “Wash your face,” Virgil pushed Dante gently towards the sink and turned to find Gravol. Finding the medication quickly he turned back to his brother … who had his head literally stuck inside the sink … the back of his head was caught on the tap. (A/N Shut the FUCK up) What had he done? Went to take a drink of water and turned his head the wrong way? “My God, you are a fucking idiot,” but a fucking CUTE idiot. Virgil chuckled lightly and rolled his eyes as Dante freed himself … what would have happened if he had tried to get Dante to take a shower? Would he have hung himself? Virgil shook the thoughts of a wet Dante from his mind and helped his brother into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and forcing his younger twin to take the Gravol … which took a considerable amount of effort for Dante positively hated swallowing things … well, pill like things.

“You’re like Dad!” Dante gawked with obviously blurry vision and Virgil just blinked at him. What the hell was that supposed to … oh, wait. ((If you don’t know, he’s talking about the devil trigger thing…Dante doesn’t yet know HOW to trigger, and it was his first time seeing his brother trigger))

“Ya … Dante, what the hell happened?” Virgil frowned as his brother wavered unsteadily and sat down on the floor. This was really starting to worry him. Virgil sniffed at the air slightly and frowned. (He has a really good nose)

“You’re completely plastered!” he couldn’t believe it! Dante had ‘never’ drank before! Ever! What would make him … did he hate what they did that much? Virgil’s stomach knotted and he felt like a rapist.

“Yur Goddamned fault!” Dante pulled himself onto his hands and knees and laid his head against the cool kitchen tiles. Virgil watched his brother in shock, complete horror filling him at the depraved position his brother was in, made pitiful by Virgil’s stupid actions.

“God, Dante …” Virgil kneeled down beside his brother and tried to look at his face … which was kind of hard when his forehead was pressed to the floor. He would probably only be able to see it if he went and looked between his legs … but that might give the wrong idea, “Dante, I’m sorry, if—”

“Sorry?! Fuck off! Ya jus-don’t get it! God … sleep …” Dante began to crawl unsteadily towards the stairs and Virgil, fearing for his brother’s safety, pounced on him, grabbing him from behind and holding him back with a grunt.

“Oh my FREAKING God! Will you two keep it OUT OF THE KITCHEN!” Sparda stopped at the door and smacked his hand onto his forehead, “I come in here for tea and—for the second time—see way too much for my mental stability,” Sparda walked farther into the kitchen and started pulling out the tea things, “If you two are going to … do—just keep it out of the kitchen! What is it? A fetish—I ‘don’t’ want to know,” Virgil stared at his father, still holding onto Dante’s hips as his dishevelled brother kept clawing at the carpeted stairs.

“You’re … ok with this?!” Sparda sighed, turning to look at his son and quickly turning back around as if he had forgotten what position the two were in.

“I thought about it and … you two are old enough to know what you’re doing … and, it’s not like I’m one to talk about … taboo relationships. Just don’t tell your mother. And please! Will you two go to your room?! I’m standing right here!” Sparda flinched as he heard Dante whimper.

“Alright, but, no, Dad … Dante’s drunk,” Sparda dropped the honey container he was pulling out onto the floor and spun around.

“VIRGIL! Oh my God! Was he drunk the other night too?!” Virgil blinked, almost loosing a hold on Dante and barely saving him from tumbling head first down the stairs.

“What?! No, that’s not what I meant!” Virgil interjected, completely drowned out by his father’s tirade about taking advantage of people … it was a wonder their mother hadn’t come looking yet … was she even home yet? “No, father—” Virgil trailed off as Dante began to laugh bitterly.

“It doesn’t even matter! I wish I had been drunk, then I wouldn’t have to fucking remember,” Virgil loosened his grip and felt a knot form at the base of his throat, “I wish I didn’t remember,” Virgil’s grasp went completely lax, his arms falling to his side as Dante began to clamber down the stairs, his movements almost making enough noise to drown out his next words, “Then it wouldn’t hurt when you turn your fucking back.”

“God, Dante, I’m so—wait! What?! Dante!” Virgil crawled after his brother, leaving his father to his tirade in the kitchen … it wasn’t like he would even notice they left; when he started preaching, he stopped talking to the people around him and just ended up monologuing.

“Get off, don’t …” Dante pushed Virgil away and stood shakily to his feet, his emotions doing a pretty decent job of warding off the affects of the scotch, and went down the stairs, jumping the last half and slamming into their bedroom.

“Dante! Wait!!” Virgil went to the door and tried to open it, finding it locked, “Dante?! Please, listen to me!” Virgil put his hand to the door and just stood there before sighing lightly and taking a seat next to the door; Dante had to come out eventually.~

T.B.C.