-Betrayer Betrayed-

-Lady Luce-

Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry, it is property of Capcom.

A/N 3.0 [12/May/2015]: Sephy 1983 has been really awesome and translated this fic into Chinese - check out the link in my bio!

A/N 2.0 [10/June/2014]: For any new readers I am just going to drop a note here to clarify a few things: I started writing this fic in 2008. As such the writing style etc. hopefully develop positively. Personally I would like to revise chapters 2-4 at some point. They could probably be merged into one chapter since they are so short in comparison to the rest of the fic. Anyway I hope any new readers can persevere through those chapters and ignore my 16 year old writing style. I hope it also doesn't put people off that I have been writing this fic for 6 years; as you will see from later chapters I have vowed to finish it!

A/N: Heya guys! I started writing this fic back in October last year. I was going to wait to finish my other one before posting, but I've been writing it painfully slowly. I have very little love for that fic anymore and the ending's giving me trouble so I decided to post this. I have another four chapters of this fic too :D I think this fic may have been done before, but I've got a good twist planned :P

Did I mention I suck at titles?

Chapter 1

The usually comforting weight of his twin guns rested in his palms did little to calm the demon hunter's nerves at that moment. In fact he was so jumpy he'd wasted half a clip on a rat before he'd realised that it wasn't some blood-thirsty demon. He didn't honestly know why he had suddenly become so skittish, this whole thing was normally a breeze for him – in fact it was more than that, he downright loved it – so why was he suddenly terrified of anything that moved? There was something in the air, he could feel it (unless that was just his imagination acting up too) but every time he felt at ease again it came back, something angry, and foreboding. Nearly as ominous as the call had been in the first place; very blunt, to the point, but hiding something – and before Dante had had the chance to ask what the stranger had hung up on him.

Maybe he should have just let the guy rot and not taken the job, but Dante couldn't ever quite resist a challenge – and good paying jobs were hard to find. That was why he was wandering around some creepy old church in the dark letting his imagination go haywire when nothing immediately jumped out and tried to decapitate him – as per usual.

He'd checked the graveyard first, found nothing, and headed inside. This place was bigger than he'd expected, somewhere on the edge of town it had taken him an hour or two to get here and the guy hadn't even showed up. If he didn't get paid someone was going to be in big trouble. He needed that money so that he could carry on consuming his daily dosage of extra cheese and pepperoni. Currently he was having to ration his pizza intake which just wasn't good enough; business hadn't been all too good after Lady and he had cleaned up the few demons who got through to the human world post Temin-ni-gru. Either they were staying away from him or for whatever reason they couldn't get through as easily as before. It wouldn't have bothered him so much, if he wasn't always in debt one way and another. Dante had a habit of breaking things – both whilst he was working and at home – and the costs were all adding up. In fact he'd nearly broken the phone trying to answer it for this call.

Of course Dante wasn't thinking about any of this as he eyed the stained glass windows carefully, not liking the feeling of the eyes following him. He couldn't tell whether they were real or not, every time he turned he came face to face with some painting or another and it took every ounce of training he had not to blast the windows and ornaments into dust – because he could just see that going down well with whoever owned this place. (It probably wouldn't put him in God's good-books either. You know if you believe in that sort of stuff).

The moon light filtered in through the coloured glass, painting the floor and pews with a washed out rainbow as Dante made his way up the aisle of the church. His footsteps echoed all too loudly in the silent, hollow, room and the tension in the air was building with every waiting moment. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he did another three-sixty to make sure nothing was trying to sneak up on him; Ebony and Ivory poised and his finger suddenly itching to pull the trigger if it would alleviate the deafening silence. There was something here, he just knew it – he could feel it – so why was it toying with him? If whatever creature may have been lurking in the shadows was intelligent enough to mess with his head like this then that meant trouble.

He took another few steps forward eyes swivelling in their sockets to check the shadows as he glanced behind him again before moving forwards. It shouldn't have been this nerve wrecking; the constant nagging sensation that there was something desperately wrong was driving him mad. Dante was about to give up and shout at whatever creature may have been lurking in the shadows to come and get him when something at the corner of his vision stopped him. He titled his head, craning his neck to try and get a better look with out getting too close in case it was a trap.

A glimmer of moonlight caught his eye reflecting off something… though Dante couldn't make out what in the gloom. His eyes widened a second later seeing a pool of dark liquid spreading out into the aisle. Blood; it was almost black in the darkness, but he could make out the faintest hints of sanguine where the moonlight reflected off its seemingly flawless surface. Guns poised for an attack he slowly made his way up past the remaining pews to the altar and almost dropped both beloved weapons upon seeing the sight which greeted him. His eyes widened, face blanching, and he found to his complete dismay that his hands were shaking as they gripped the twin guns. He gritted his teeth, keeping both sights locked on the prone form as he slowly circled round to get a better look at the figure's face. Just because the man looked unconscious didn't mean that he couldn't leap up and attack at any moment; Dante wouldn't have expected any less from him. Though he wasn't responding at all to the presence mere inches away from him as Dante bent down, both guns still trained on the figure's fore-head.

Dante's heart had leapt into his throat as he lowered one gun to the ground with a metallic clunk before reaching out a hand to grip his twin's shoulder and give it a firm shake.

"Vergil…?"

No response. Dante leaned back on his haunches and ran his free hand through his hair completely and utterly lost. How could his brother be here of all places? He had fallen into hell… Dante had seen him go; still had the glove where Vergil had sliced his hand open. So how on earth had he ended up here…?

Reaching out a hesitant hand he brushed some of the silvery hair from his brother's face, just to check it was him… His hand met a viscid substance and he drew back alarmed suddenly remembering the blood he had seen spilling into the aisle. Vergil's temple was split open, blood pouring profusely from the wound. Fear over-rode all other emotions as he studied his twin's all too pale face, a trail of dried blood running from Vergil's nose and the corner of his mouth. It took him a few seconds to remind himself that head-wounds bled a lot… but that much?

A further assessment of his brother's injuries told him that Vergil had been stabbed in the left shoulder. Dante half wished it had been his right – at least then his twin might have been hampered in any attempts to decapitate him. Not that it would really help. Vergil had probably learned to fight ambidextrously, Dante wouldn't put it past him; his twin always had been a bloody perfectionist.

The amount of blood was worrying though – that and the fact that someone had managed to knock his brother out – Vergil should be fit as a fiddle by now; the blood was clotting on the wounds meaning they'd been inflicted quite some time ago. That meant Vergil should be healed, especially from such minor scrapes. Panic flared through him as he felt for his brother's pulse suddenly forgetting that this was the same person who had tried to kill him… how many times now? Somewhere at the back of his mind something was telling him that he should be finishing Vergil off not concerning himself with his twin's well being. After all Vergil probably wouldn't be so courteous to him…

Dante's thoughts were jarred from him as pain exploded in the side of his head and something sent him flying. He barely managed to maintain his grip on Ebony as he slammed into the opposite wall feeling pain spasm in his lower back. Picking himself up he brought Ebony up quickly and squeezed off half a clip aiming at the shadowy figure across the room from him. The demon didn't bat an eye, side-stepping the bullets and making Dante growl in frustration. The hollow shink of the trigger locking told him that the cartridge was empty and that was apparently what the creature had been waiting for. A sudden blur and he was pinned against the wall Rebellion digging into his back as his head slammed into the hard stone. Ebony slipped from his hand upon the force of impact and he heard the gun clatter to the ground at the creature's feet.

Now he could see the face of his enemy up close; bright yellow eyes shining with mirth and thin lips pulled into a twisted smile which depicted a warped version of childish glee. Dante shuddered instinctively turning his head away as the stench of death seared his nostrils the creature's fowl breath turning his stomach. It – whatever it was – looked young, maybe even a few years younger than him; face utterly white and smooth as if he were sculpted from bleached bone. As inanimate as a statue save for the burning yellow eyes in the depths of his skull. His lips twitched upwards in the infinitely flexible, but minimal lines of a cartoon as he stared at his prey with those burning eyes.

Dante took a ragged breath, his mind just catching up with everything after the dizzying blow, as he registered the hand squeezing painfully tight around his neck. His legs lashed out furiously as he gripped the demon's arm in both of his using all his strength to pry the hand away and knock the creature off. It was strong, stronger than Dante would have liked, but he still managed to free himself from its grasp and draw Rebellion pointing the tip at his foe's neck just waiting to cleave the demon's head from his shoulders.

"I don't know what you are, but it's time to send you back to where you belong; one first class ticket to hell coming right up," Dante grinned some of his usual arrogance returning. Now that he was fully concentrated on the fight at hand he could even start to enjoy it. Though Vergil was still in need of some help unless he decided to start healing and come join in. For some reason Dante knew who Vergil would choose to side with in this particular fight, and it wasn't him.

Then the demon did something Dante hadn't quite expected. It laughed; a deep languorous sound which caught the devil hunter off guard.

"Been there, and quite frankly I like it much better here," the demon yawned voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dante gritted his teeth eyeing his foe for weapons, but he could see none until his eyes caught a glimmer of silver in the creature's hand. A dagger… it was either arrogant or incredibly foolish. Didn't it know who he was? He couldn't be killed by such a worthless excuse for a weapon. Then again – his eyes sidled over to Vergil – best not under-estimate this one.

"Ah your brother," the creature said in a bored tone following Dante's gaze. "Yes, about that, you see my master wants the pair of you dead and as much as I hate to go and spoil the fun I really should be getting back. If you hadn't taken so long getting here maybe we could have had a longer chat."

It lunged at him then with a speed even the devil hunter couldn't match as he dodged; the blade nicking the side of his neck when he threw himself out of the way. He crashed through the first row of pews silently cursing the demon. He was not paying for that! Picking himself up once again he felt the air at his side whip and that was all the warning he got. Mid-turn he felt something pierce his left shoulder as a firm hand gripped his right one pulling him back onto the blade. He saw the hint of silver protruding from his torn coat glinting a deep red in the wan light. Blood was running down the side of his neck, the cut had been shallow, but for some reason it wasn't healing.

He growled in pain when the serrated blade was twisted savagely in his shoulder, jarring along his collar bone as it was forced to the hilt against his skin. It most certainly wasn't the most painful experience of his life, he'd been stabbed plenty of times, but there was something wrong here his arm was going numb. Trying desperately to trigger he realised that he couldn't and frowned glaring over his shoulder as best he could to try and get a glimpse of his attackers face. The thing was still smiling with the mockery of childish delight as it watched his confusion. Dante tried to pull himself free, but he was shoved roughly back onto the blade and he had to swallow a cry at the sudden pain. It was getting worse – he wasn't sure how that was possible. It shouldn't have hurt this much. Gritting his teeth he stamped down on the demon's foot, left elbow jutting out a second later to catch the creature in the solar plexus. There was a satisfying gasp and Dante grinned sliding out of the creatures slackened hold. Well this one was built like a human – strange seeing as demons seemed to despise the human race so much, but he wasn't going to question that now.

Gripping the jeweled hilt he ripped the dagger from his shoulder with a visceral squelch feeling hot viscid liquid running down over his chest and back. Tossing the blade aside he cursed the demon under his breath. The bastard had ruined his coat! As soon as the dagger landed the demon was up again moving too fast for Dante to see and he made a mad dash for Ivory sweeping the gun from the ground at Vergil's side. Air-hiking backwards he landed at the head of the aisle and readying Ivory in his right hand - his left struggling to heal – peered out into the darkened room. The creature had all but vanished; he watched and waited for seconds as the room settled back into an eerie silence, but there was no sign of the demon. God he hated playing this little game, it would drive him mad. Unless the creature had cleared off, though that was unlikely…

Then raucous laughter filled his ears reverberating around the church disconcertingly and making it impossible to pin-point its source until that voice spoke again.

"Sorry to leave so soon," the demon drawled from its perch in one of the open windows in the roof of the church; moonlight silhouetting its lithe form. "But I have what I want for now," it grinned dangling the dagger from one hand an amber stone in its hilt glowing faintly. "Maybe next time we can get to know each other a little better," it waved, "until then have fun - human." The last word was spat at him like a curse and before he could even pull the trigger the demon had vanished in a flash of purple flames.

Dante sighed holstering Ivory and raking a hand through his disheveled hair. What on earth had all that been about? He glanced at his left shoulder wearily – and why in hell wasn't he healing? He knew that his main artery went through his shoulder there, pumping an approximate three liters per minute around his body. Of course he had never had reason to use that knowledge before, but now… well if he wasn't healing…

"Shit," he hissed crossing the room in search of Ebony and holstering the gun before turning back to Vergil, now certain his brother wasn't about to jump up and gut him.

This was not good. How long had Vergil been lying there…? How much blood had his twin lost? Why did he even care? Vergil wouldn't be at all worried if he was bleeding to death he'd just stand there and gloat. In fact what he should really do was put a bullet in his brother's brain so that he'd have a head ache when he woke up. Unfortunately for Dante he couldn't quite be that heartless. He rolled his eyes, being at all considerate for another human being could really be a pain in the ass sometimes. He shrugged his own wound off quickly knowing it would heal soon and went to make sure his twin was healing properly.

He was relieved to find that Vergil's wounds had at least stopped bleeding, though his face was still pale – contrasting to the dark blood smeared across his temple. Dante stood back and rested against a wall feeling drained. He should probably leave now, his brother would be perfectly capable without him, but he couldn't quite make himself move. There was so much unfinished business he had with Vergil and to be honest he didn't know where to begin – trying to get Vergil to talk to him would also be nearly impossible.

A sudden gasp to his left snapped him back to the present and Dante looked down wearily, one hand slipping down to rest on Ebony's textured grip the other snaking up to grip Rebellion over his shoulder. Vergil was awake; already pushing himself up to a standing position apparently unscathed though his movements appeared to be stiff. Staying completely still the younger twin realized that his brother had yet to notice him standing in the shadows. Though they were only mere meters away the elder didn't seem to be quite himself; which was understandable really.

Vergil was muttering something under his breath, no doubt cursing the demon who had thwarted them both. "Arrogant little good for nothing-"

"Enjoying your beauty sleep Verg?" Dante grinned, though his grip tightened on Rebellion's hilt; they had never been this close on good terms and he doubted a few years apart would make Vergil any more forgiving. In fact he probably still wanted pay back from their last encounter, and Dante knew his twin could hold a grudge.

Vergil span around faster than a human eye could see, identical electric blue eyes locking. "You," the elder hissed, his tone's intensity hindered by a hint of pain. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough," Dante replied pushing himself off the wall. "I guess that little brat sure showed you huh?"

There was the ring of steel on steel and the sibilant hiss as the blades slid together, locking at the hilt. Dante tried to ignore the fact that he knew he had only just blocked his brother's attack despite the fact that Vergil was the one who had been unconscious moments before. Vergil also had the upper hand now Rebellion being useless at short range. Dante really didn't like the way this was going – he had hoped to maybe have a bit more of a conversation with Vergil before a fight started; though one had always been inevitable. Maybe provoking the elder hadn't been the best way to go about it…

"Well if it's any consolation he beat me too," Dante admitted trying to break the silence. Maybe something they actually had in common for once would help the flow of conversation? Apparently not.

Vergil pushed back, throwing Dante off and moving in for an attack. Dante kicked off the wall next to them and landed behind Vergil to dodge the blow. He should have known better. Such an amateur move would never have been enough to counter Vergil's speed or his intelligence. As soon as his feet touched the ground he found himself pinned to the wall in a flash of silver as moonlight danced on Yamato's blade. A winded gasp passed his lips accompanying the visceral squelch of tearing muscle and flesh. Dante's eyes widened in shock as he hit the wall and pain seared through his right side. Rebellion fell from his lax grasp as his muscles spasmed, hitting the floor with a clatter and sending a stab of despair through the demon-hunter.

Breathing heavily he stared up at Vergil through the white bangs obscuring his vision and a smirk twisted at the corner of his mouth; how could he have been so stupid? He would have laughed, but the blade shifted in his shoulder, grating on the bone and turning the laughter into a wheezed cough as blood ran into the back of his throat.

"This was you wasn't it?" The younger finally managed feeling the energy draining from him as blood ran down the glittering blade imbedded in his side. "You set me up to kill me."

Vergil snorted derisively. "Don't flatter yourself," he twisted the blade savagely and Dante's breathing hitched as he bit his lower lip to stifle a cry. "You think I'd really go to all this trouble for you?"

Dante chuckled blood spattering Vergil's sword arm, staining the blue silk of his coat a deep sanguine. "You always were one for complicated plans Vergil," Dante grinned up into his twin's cold eyes his breathing faltering slightly with each wet breath. "Honestly you can't be surprised that I would be expecting some over-fabricated plot just so you could kill me."

"I've been spoiling you then," Vergil said a note of something like scolding in his voice; something which tried to convince him that it was fondness, affection, though the malicious glint in his twin's eyes said anything but. He felt his brother's gaze traveling over him, hairs raising on the back of his neck at the icy glare as it finally came to rest on his wounded left shoulder. "You're not healing."

"Neither are you," Dante shot back voice tinged with pain and a slight unease. He should not have been loosing so much blood; at any other time he might have laughed at his own stupidity now something far more bitter than laughter spilled into the back of his throat.

Vergil's eyes darted quickly to his left assessing his blood-stained coat before turning back to his brother. "At least my wounds have stopped bleeding, and I'm the one with the sword."

"Heh," Dante's breath was coming in short, harsh, gasps no longer making it easy for him to talk. Really the wounds in both shoulders should not have been doing so much damage, but he didn't have much time to think about it right at the moment. His vision was clouding with each second as coherence slipped from the edges of his mind. The realization that he would pass out soon, possibly die, hit him with a sense of indifference. It should have mattered to him, it just didn't…

"What's wrong Dante?" Vergil smirked, eyes gleaming predatorily as he watched the younger twin struggle for breath. "Am I hurting you?" He raised an elegant eyebrow noticing just how much Dante was bleeding. "Has that human blood finally run too deep?"

He emphasized his words by thrusting his sword in further, shattering bone and rock with Yamato's cruel blade. A harsh cry was torn from Dante's throat and he struggled to lock gazes with his brother, though to be honest he saw none of his twin left. His blue eyes were filled with steel, platinum hair brushed back – slightly disheveled and red tipped over the wound on his temple – pale lips twisted into a malicious smirk… whatever had once been human in his brother was gone now replaced by something cold; demonic wasn't even the word, robotic was more like it.

All sound was slowly filtering out of the room into a vacuum; everything completely silent save for the pounding of blood in his own ears and each gasp as he labored for breath. Dante's eyes burned, vision tinged with red, swimming with a chaotic disarray of lights and colours.

Vergil had noticed his twin's failing energy as he pulled back finally, the blade leaving the wound with a stomach turning squelch. The elder twin flicked Yamato to the side to clear it of Dante's blood before sheathing the sword and watching his brother closely. Dante's knees buckled and he fell onto all fours with a pained groan, legs far too weak to hold himself up now that his only support had been removed. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the pool of blood around him; his blood.

"Shit," Dante shook his head slowly trying to gather his scattered thoughts, "is this all mine?"

He felt the sharp prick of cool steel under his chin and raised his head to stop Yamato's blade from slicing further into his skin.

Vergil was staring down at him, eyes glittering with an alien light. Dante opened his mouth to speak, but faltered his breathing was coming too hard and fast to even form an intelligible word. Through his swimming vision he could see the look of disdain Vergil was giving him, though it was replaced by one of confusion a moment later. Dante wished he had the strength to say something then; suddenly his unflappable brother was in a state of disarray – and it was worth having a sword embedded in his gut to see. His lips quivered in an attempt to speak, to laugh in his twin's face, but all thoughts of doing either quickly vanished. With a shuddering gasp Dante's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, sprawling side-ways in the pool of dark blood.

A/N: To clarify – the bit with my demon dude jumping out the window seem familiar…? I wrote it first dammit, Capcom stole my idea! They're watching me -hides-

Anyway I left a little authors note when I first wrote this chapter – apparently I was playing RE4 when I wrote this so that explains Dante being super jumpy. Would you believe I only finished that game like two days ago? Damn I hate zombies.

Well please review, tell me what you think and I'll try to get updates coming frequently again.

-Luce