Yeah…um…been a while huh? Wonder if anyone is still reading this…

Anyhow, CAPCOM owns this I don't. (thanks for pointing this out jake or I would really be looking like a prize dolt. Also…you never said if you liked it or not…hmmm…)

Thanks for all those who have reviewed so far, it's all been used to keep the muses fed and happy! I hope this chapter is enough for the moment

Dante residence

Tears kept rolling down his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to stop them. Every sob burned the back of his throat, making it feel like someone was stabbing him there. The room, usually so warm and cosy felt like an ice rink, cold shivers ran down his form like he was in a shower.

His hair fell over his eyes, hiding the flowing tears from the man kneeling in front of him. His head lowered as he gazed numbly at the floor. All the words he had spoken before forgotten.

No words drifted by his lips, none came to his mind that he wanted to say. What could he say? Oh, hey, by the way, I just watched my wife and son be murdered while I stood by like a helpless idiot?

He didn't want to handle the police, didn't want to tell Abbey's parents that their precious daughter and grandchild had been killed because of who he truly was. He didn't want to handle anything period.

His hands felt like blocks of ice as he buried his face in them, trying to hid from the nasty truth reality had given. Lady Luck who usually seemed so gracious to him had dealt him a bad roll.

Police were currently making their way through his home…no…not home any more, home was somewhere where you felt safe and secure. This was no longer his home. It was a house, it no longer held a family. Homes held families, houses held memories of those who used to live there.

The police searching everything in the house, trying to find some connection to the murders and the killers. They had certainly got a shock when they checked the master bedroom, Dante's own arsenal of weapons tucked safely in a sealed chest at the foot of the bed.

All of them had gotten a little bit more suspicious of Dante, some eyeing him as though he was the murderer and was doing some pretty convincing acting. It also didn't help the demon hunter to have his sword, Sparda, lying at the foot of the stairs.

Some of them were interviewing the neighbours, trying to build up a picture as to what kind of man Dante Sparda truly was. What would they find? Real quiet guy who keeps himself to himself, doesn't really interact or say much without his wife being present?

Perhaps it would roll the other way and they would all pick up on the negative aspect of his life? 'Oh yeah, guy went out at all hours of the night', 'brought back some strange looking folk' and 'sometimes would be covered head to toe in what looked like blood in the moonlight as he trailed in something that resembled some form of sword'.

"Excuse me?" the cop's voice grated on his already numb or fraying nerves.

Dante squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the young officer would take a hint and go. Couldn't he see that he wasn't exactly up to answering anything right now?

He was on the brink of a complete breakdown and that could go either way. He could crack and kill all those in the room or he could just shut down completely and end up in an insane asylum.

"I know this is hard for you but…" the voice sounded sympathetic but it was like he was reading from a script.

"Just…go away," Dante whispered into his hands.

The cop frowned, how could he get this guy to talk? Nothing in the training had told him exactly how to deal with the emotional side of murders, how to deal with those left alive.

It was okay just to be taught how to catch the bad guys and how to tell them that their loved ones were dead but, not how to coax the witnesses. That was another department but they were all out for the night. On other cases and couldn't be spared cause of budget restraints.

He sighed, he could see how hurt this guy was, see how broken he was feeling. He didn't have to be some sort of head doctor to see that.

If he had any chance of helping this guy, the poor man would have to tell him a few facts. He wasn't a mind reader, he would have to open up and from what he was guessing, Dante Sparda was not one of those guys who was into sharing.

His friend stood in the next room, not helping that much because he didn't know the full story. All he knew was that his friend came home in a state and collapsed in a heap in his arms, stating that his wife and son had been killed.

"Mister Sparda," the rookie ventured, "…those guns that you have, are they registered?"

A low dangerous chuckle emerged from Dante, one that bordered close to an all out sob. Tears fell onto his hands, leaving salty trails down his cheeks and palms.

Arman spoke for Dante, having returned to the living room with a beer for the silver haired hunter.

"Yeah, so are the swords," he coldly spat.

"It's just procedure," the rookie watched as Arman unsuccessfully offer Dante the beer, "Do you know where he was, at the time of the murder?"

"No," Arman offered truthfully, "I came by here tonight, hoping to figure out where they went. The three of them just dropped of the face of the earth two days back and Dante came back tonight. Looking like shit."

"Witnesses?"

"Only…the bastards that killed my family," Dante whispered.

Could you all just get the fuck out of his home and let him rest? Arman crossed his arms, not pleased at the fact that his best friend was being treated like a common criminal.

If they only knew the hardships and horror the man sitting in front of them had done for them. He had saved the entire world from going to hell on more than one occasion and had lived to make smart assed comments about it.

Where the hell is Lei? He should be here by now…he barley managed not to growl in anger.

"Did you kill your wife and son Mister Sparda?" an older, more wider officer asked harshly.

For the first time since they had arrived, Dante looked him dead in the eye. His ice blue eyes burning right to the very core of the officers hazel ones. His look was one of pure disgust and disdain.

"Why would I kill the best thing ever to happen to me? Huh? Why the fuck would I go and kill a baby? I am not one of those sick freaks that get my kicks out of harming kids and killing women," Dante hissed, "So, get off your fat asses and go. Let me deal with this."

"So you know who did kill them?"

A tired sigh escaped from Dante, "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

"We're pretty opened minded," the fat cop didn't instil much belief in the silver haired warrior.

It felt like hours after the cops had left. The entire house turned upside down and inside out, all Dante's weapons had been taken. The clothes he had been wearing, Ebony and Ivory, Sparda…all were gone.

All taken to be tested and Dante advised not to leave town for a few days. The phone sat on the table, waiting for someone to dial out or to ring in. Dante stared at it, half in hope that Abbey was going to call and tell him that it was a payback joke for forgetting their anniversary. The other half shook it's head sadly and mournfully informed him that he should be realistic.

She and Shay were dead and never coming back.

A knock at the door brought him out of his thinking, he listened to Arman's footsteps and his voice muttering if that was Lei then he was getting his ass kicked.

"Oh…and you are?" Arman sounded surprised at the caller.

No response, though Arman's tone suggested that the visitor was female and one he wasn't expecting either.

"Look lady," Arman continued, "Unless you tell me who the hell you are, you aint coming in."

The woman looked at the man blocking her path into the home of Sparda, she could have easily knocked him flat on his back but she didn't want to alarm or scare Dante anymore than he was.

"I need to speak to Dante," she whispered softly, not loud enough to be heard by the hunter in the living room.

"No way," the man refused her access. He crossed his arms, trying to look big, mean and sexy.

"My name…" she warily admitted, "is Trish. I'm a good friend of Dante."

Trish? Who the hell…Arman frowned, Dante had never spoken about her before.

He shook his head, no way in hell would Dante be able to keep his mouth shut about a girl like this. She was hot, long blonde hair, blue eyes, body to die for…

"If your through ogling my body, could you get out of the way?" Trish tapped a foot impatiently.

"Sorry but I've never hea…" he was interrupted by Dante.

"Trish…" Dante's voice was a mixture between a half strong voice and someone who was desperately trying not to cry.

Trish pushed Arman out of her way, heading straight to her friend. Surprised at how tightly she found herself hugging him and how much she missed him all at the same time.

She gently guided Dante to the floor, knowing that he wasn't up to full strength and cuddled him further. All her mothering instincts kicking in for him but something else stirred within.

Dante closed his eyes, wishing himself back to a time were he was a child and were none of this had ever happened. Back when he was in his mother's arms and Virgil was causing havoc with the neighbours kids.

"I've got some news for you," Trish whispered, "it's not what you want to hear but it's something. A name."

Slowly, Dante opened his eyes. She had came on business and not because she was concerned for his health. Just like her.

"Oh…?"

Trish felt him lift his head a little higher on her chest to hear her better, "Yeah. A goddess that runs by the name of Sekhmet."

"What does she want with me? Why kill Abbey and Shay?"

"I don't know but I promise you. I won't leave until I do, won't leave until you need me to," Trish vowed.

Dante looked into her blue eyes, looking to see if she was lying. Looking for the betrayal but only finding the truth.

"Promise?" he had sounded like a child.

Trish smiled, "Promise."