Title: Drops, Rain, And Sea
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Characters: Dante and Vergil :D
Rating: PG :o
Word Count: 1304
Spoilers/Warnings: ABSOLUTELY NONE. Try to contain your shock. Well, except language, but that totally comes standard. SO NONE.
Summary: Remember this? This is the flipside, from the older Dante and Vergil. Oh, Vergil, YOU MAKE ME SO SAD.
It had been years since they'd ventured below the Mason-Dixie line, after that one roadtrip Vergil had dragged Dante on. And it had been with good reason, too, that they hadn't bothered, as a lot of shit had gone down then, and in the years following, that had just prevented it, and Dante couldn't say he'd been too worried over it, really. True enough, sometimes his mind wandered backward, to that time when he'd been young, dumb, and a righteous little prick about everything, but it wasn't too often.
So it was surprising, when one day Vergil had decided to drag him away again, much like he had those years before, saying nothing but, "Pack your bags, because we're leaving. You have ten minutes." Dante had learned, and though he hated it, to just give in and do it, because it ended up easier in the long run. Vergil had proven he would, indeed, club his brother unconscious and drag him along tied up in the back seat of the car if Dante refused to comply.
Georgia had brought back both good, and bad, memories. Everything, as far as Dante was concerned, was still as clear as day, as to what had happened way back then, and it was somewhat surreal to find himself there again, on that same lonely stretch of beach, in the same type of weather where he'd sworn he'd seem himself and his brother. He didn't know; perhaps he really had. Perhaps he'd had a peek into the future, to what was his present day, and never realized the importance of it. The confirmation that, after everything, he and Vergil had stuck together, as much as they grated on one another.
In truth, Dante just really didn't care that much.
Vergil was in rare form, too. Over the years, they'd both grown more mature, Dante thought, though if given the chance, they reverted right back to the time they'd been nineteen and stupid, bickering like not a day had passed since then, and they hadn't both become true adults (because God only knew they'd both been convinced that was what they were, in those days, even if they'd been proven incredibly wrong).
"Would you hurry up?" It was snapped, as Dante hadn't realized he'd slowed to a complete stop on the beach, staring out at the water though he hadn't seen it at all. He shook himself from his thoughts before glancing Vergil's way, not even beginning to conceal his eyeroll.
"Will you yank that stick outta your ass?" But he shoved his hands into his pockets and moved to follow along, anyway, after tugging his collar up to shield against the wind. And that seemed to satisfy Vergil, who waited until Dante had reached him to begin moving again. "Why the hell are we even here?"
"Reasons." And that was the only answer Vergil had given him, any time he'd brought it up. Dante, admittedly, was slightly worried it was something just like what had had them running around the country the first time (and he'd never forget Vergil and Mothman, he swore), but if that was so, Vergil wouldn't confirm. He wouldn't deny, either, which had started that familiar gnaw of worry at his spine. He hated when Vergil did that shit. He truly did.
That was one that had yet to change: Vergil always, always left Dante in the dark, completely, on everything he should have known from the beginning. Doing his big brother thing, even at their age, Dante supposed.
He thought it was stupid.
"You know." It was rather conversational for Vergil, really. Over the years, they'd lost that penchant to just talk and talk and talk at one another, instead choosing silence to communicate. Fewer wires got crossed that way. So it surprised Dante, to a degree, at the flippant tone. "I have to admit, little brother, I can't say I feel as though anything at all has changed."
"The hell are you babbling about?" Really. Dante wished Vergil would at least try to make sense half the time. Because he didn't! He didn't, and he knew he didn't, and Dante had to wonder if he didn't do it on purpose, just to piss him off.
"The fact that, here we are, years later, my brother, and it's still the same. Ergo, here we are, and you're still wibbling like the big, fat baby you are. Deny it! I dare you to, and make yourself look like an idiot. A retarded one, at that."
Again, Vergil was seriously in rare form.
"Would you just shut up, already? Fucking loony." Dante didn't begin to hide the fact that he thought Vergil was crazy anymore. Of course, he hadn't then, either. "Seriously, you're pissing me off. You won't tell me why we're here, you won't stop acting like a fucking ass...Just what the hell are you good for?"
"And this is precisely why I take you nowhere, and we can't have nice things. Because you are both retarded and childish." It was said as Vergil glanced toward the boardwalk, before reaching to take Dante's arm and pull him to a stop.
"I'll fucking show you retarded. Keep it up, and I'm pitching your ass in the water." Yet Dante allowed him to do what he wanted, squinting in the direction Vergil himself had looked.
"Of course you will, boopsie."
But Dante had no retort, because he wasn't listening. Instead, he was focused on the figure in red, perched on a rock, with his knees pulled to his chest in a pair of worn and ripped jeans, staring just as hard back at Dante himself. "I'll be damned." He reached over and tugged on Vergil's sleeve, as a familiar figure in blue approached the one in red from behind, and Dante, really, wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. Well, except that it was nice to have some confirmation he hadn't been seeing things that day. "Verg. Look."
"Yes, yes, I see them. So what." Dante didn't glance back, though he could hear that peeved note in Vergil's voice. He didn't really care, if the truth were told. Vergil was always peeved, anyway.
"I told you. I told you then. Check it out. It was us, and you didn't believe me." He watched the two up the beach speak to one another, and he honestly didn't need to hear them, to know what was being said. He remembered well enough on his own.
Vergil was silent a moment, as the younger him tugged the arm of the younger Dante, to get him moving. "I very well can see that, thank you." But it was without the usual bite in the words; oddly solemn, really, enough that Dante glanced back at him, frowning.
"Oh, I was only musing over what a shaggy mutt you were." A pause, as Vergil gave him a sideglance, mouth twitching slightly. "And still are. Nothing more."
"Ass." There was a long moment of silence, as Dante glanced back, to find the two gone. "I guess we weren't ghosts after all."
There was an odd pause, from Vergil, before he tugged Dante's sleeve, not nearly as roughly as his younger self had his brother's double. "I suppose that depends on your definition of ghost."
Dante opened his mouth, to ask just what the fuck Vergil had meant by that, but Vergil had already pulled away, starting along the beach once more, and he had no choice but to follow, and consider the topic of conversation dropped. They'd grown older, quieter, and more mature; nothing at all, really, like they had been, but Vergil was still the same. He was still the same in that he left Dante in the dark, never telling him the things he should know.
FYI: My internet, without a doubt, is going to be spotty for a touch. Some jackass cut a fiber optic cable, and both Georgia and South Carolina have been without TEH INTERNETS all Monday, and it'll probably blink in and out. SO DO NOT BE OFFENDED IF I AM UNREACHABLE. ;_; It makes me sad, as teh internets is my addiction.
And I took too long typing this out the first time I tried to post it, as the internets died on me AGAIN. ;_;
Paranormal 25 - No prompt.
Title: Drops, Rain, And Sea