#winston!

Dante could make out a low pitched whine as he reached under and undid the snap. “Remember, I’m on a job. Supposed to be a nasty lil’ bugger here. So keep your ears and nose sharp, and don’t wander too far-

Winston ignored him the second he was free of the pink monstrosity, leapt off the bike, speeding past Dante and zoomed past the junkyard gates, both of which had been bent open, an indication that the ‘pest’ he had been contracted to get rid of was here, and it was a bit bigger than the client had described.

“Winnie, wait!” Dante yelled out, a bit more concerned, before trying to cover it with a joke. “If you get covered in gunk, you’re gonna have to take one of those baths...and I know how much you hate them!”

No response. A bad feeling started pooling in the base of Dante’s stomach. He’d been told that the job would be simple, just a sole little demon that liked to hide among the junked cars. But as he entered, he noticed that the crushed cars, usually stacked on top of each other, were scattered around, like a giant toddler had been playing with them.

“Winston!” He called out, wanting to keep the animal close. If anything happened to the critter, Vergil would never forgive him. Vergil had only allowed this little trip because he was under the same impression that Dante was, so no danger to the racoon. Maybe he should have brought Vergil and Nero along....nah, they didn’t need him. They were probably glad to be rid of him for a while.

He heard a hiss, like the air escaping from a valve….or the sound of an upset animal. His heartbeat quickened. Following the sound, he walked around a car that had recently been tipped on its side, and then came to a halt.

There, the size of a cow, was a demon, its shape reminding Dante of one of those ancient giant armadillos he saw in a book as a kid, a chunk of car door in its mouth. And in front of it, an angry fluffy striped ball of rage, hissing and spitting what could only be racoon curses. The demon glared at it while chewing the door’s chrome trim, and around a mouthful of metal, snarled back. Winston did not budge.

Huh, Dante proudly mused as the raccoon stood his ground against the demon, Winnie has bigger balls than his Tanuki cousins. But playtime’s over, time to let the professional take over.

He whipped out Ebony and Ivory, and shot several rounds into the creature, before it decided Winston was getting too annoying. But to his dismay, the bullets just ricocheted off its incredibly tough hide in a shower of sparks. And to his double dismay, that just made him the demon’s main target, as it dropped its meal onto the gravel. The remnants of the door flew towards Dante at an incredible speed, and he barely had time to whip out his sword and cleave it in two, letting the two halves sail past him at nearly mach 1 speed. This lumbering animal shouldn’t be able to move things so fast… unless… he thought as he watched Winston scamper out of immediate danger… the damn critter could manipulate the magnetic properties of metal, hence why it came here. Practically a buffet to a demon like it! He sprinted before it could launch another car at him, putting all his weight into the sword swing.

CLANG!

He felt like he had just struck a tank, instead of a demon, as the weapon bounced harmlessly off the brute’s backside. For a brief moment, Dante was unbalanced, as he tried to keep hold on the sword. And in that moment of distraction, he noticed to his horror that instead of turning to attack him, all along the metallic hide were dozens of thick metal spikes growing. No...not horns...quills.

The damn thing wasn’t just an armadillo. It was a demonic Magneto PORCUPINE. And if those quills were metal.... He turned in a panic, trying to find Winston before he became a racoon shishkabob. To his relief, he had wisely taken shelter under a pile of tires. Dante needed to get the little guy out of here, to fall back and figure out a different plan of atta-

A shower of pain hit him, like he’d been shot. By a nail gun. Several hundred times. All at once. He gasped out in pain before risking a look to see what had impaled him this time.

Well, one part of him thought, this is a new one. There, sticking out of nearly every part of his body, were dozens of metal points, each at least six inches long, embedded deep in his skin, and no doubt puncturing his internal organs. He was lucky he had turned to find Winston, or else his eyes might have been gouged by the shrapnel. Not that it made much difference. The pain, and the way his body struggled to heal itself was too much for him to handle.

His vision began to fade around the edges as he tried to lift up his sword...but it felt so...heavy. He coughed, and blood splattered on the ground, joining the rivulets that streamed down from all his wounds, forming a winding river in the gravel. His oxygen deprived brain thought it was kinda cool, and as he tried to follow the course, he stumbled and fell. Thankfully, he fell to his side, preventing most of the quills from impaling him further, but he couldn’t seem to find the strength to get up. Were the spikes poisoned? Did his healing factor go on strike in protest of the way he treated his body all these years? Tetanus? It seemed a shame to go out this way, he mused as he slowly reached for Ivory lying in the dust. He managed to fire three more shots, but only one hit, and yet again, that one shot bounced harmlessly off the demon. So this was it he thought killed by an oversized metallic porcupine. What a way to go.

He heard what sounded like a rumbling scream, and his eyesight focused enough to see a furry lump standing in front of him, his extremely bushy tail swishing back and forth like an overclocked metronome, challenging the beast, who now was growing another set of spikes, ready to hit the launch button. Winston, despite his ability to vanish when caught sneaking food, would not be able to dodge these deadly projectiles. Dante needed to protect him...but he couldn’t… do anything. He was going to fail Winston.

Just like he couldn’t protect Nero.

Just like he couldn’t protect Vergil.

Nero…

Vergil…

The spikes launched.

CLANG!

There was an animalistic shriek, not of pain, but of surprise, followed by a suspicious sniffling, and an excited chittering. Dante seemed to regain some consciousness, enough to look up to see what Winston was jabbering about.

There, hanging over both of them like an oversized Christmas ornament, was a very familiar red crystalline thing...where had he seen it before? His thoughts moved faster, and then it clicked.

Yamato

Dante's hazy mind was puzzled, confused at the weapon’s arrival. Had Vergil followed him? No, he heard no firm chiding him for his foolishness. But how...how had Yamato come here without her master? His mind became fuzzy again.

The demon huffed in frustration, and several surrounding cars began lifting off the ground, ready to be launched. The crystal dipped a bit lower, almost touching the ground, and the tiniest portion of it, almost as if in response to Winston’s sniffing, dissolved to reveal that blue hilt. The sound of protesting metal got louder in the background as the demon prepared to attack.

Dante reached for it, not expecting much to come out of it, seeing that even when at his 100% best, he never could quite match the precision Vergil did with the blade. But he had to try. Vergil would be furious if he didn’t. And he’d never get a moment's peace in the afterlife hearing Nero constantly bitching about how his idiot uncle had fallen to a goddamn porcupine. And so, as an entire parking lot’s worth of metal sped towards them, he closed his eyes and gripped Yamato… hard.

He heard three sounds, none of which sounded pleasant.

The screech of metal being ripped like paper.

An extremely distressed squeal.

And the pained warped bellow of an animal, that was cut off in mid cry.

In fact, all three sounds cut out to eerie silence for a few moments, as if time itself had stopped, before an explosion of sounds of falling metal crashing down, and the smell of burnt rubber with a hint of sulfur.

He opened his eyes, to see an entirely different scene. Those piled cars were now nothing more than scrap metal falling to the ground, their edges still glowing orange hot. A few newly shredded tires had caught fire, and were belching out a noxious plume of smoke. And the demon? Gone. Not even a trace of it remained, save for a few metal quills scattered on the ground….and embedded in Dante. Yamato, her elegance looking quite out of place surrounded by such refuse, lay motionless in his hand.

A soft, almost worried sounded chitter brought Dante out of his observations. Winston was sniffing at him, his little paws almost feeling like he was trying to find a pulse.

“I’m okay buddy…”

The raccoon was far too clever to be fooled by such a lie, if his agitated growl was any indication. And to be truthful, Dante hadn’t felt this shitty in a loooooong time. There was no way he was going to be able to make it to his bike, let alone bike home in his condition. He could pull some of them out, but he wasn’t sure where to start, or if it would make things worse. But he needed to try.

Trying (and failing) to hold back a groan, he slowly got back up, pulling himself to a sitting position, and then forcing himself to a standing position. He picked up Winston, holding the protesting animal like a football. Maybe… maybe if he drove fast, and ignored the ‘Winston must wear a helmet’ rule...he could get help… His eyesight began to fade again. He wasn’t gonna make it…

And then, Yamato buzzed in his hand, and he felt some sort of electrical current run through him, like someone had hijacked his nervous system. His sword arm made two quick familiar slashes in the air, as if at an invisible foe. And in front of him, the air peeled back, like an overripe peach.

Trusting that the blade wasn’t gonna lead him to his doom (yet), he stumbled through, not really caring what his destination was.

“What in the-”

“Holy shit Dante! What the Hell happened to you?”

He heard those voices, of his brother and nephew, smelt the comforting scent of gunsmoke and stale pizza, and in relief, he dropped the struggling bundle of fur...and collapsed.

------

His memories were kinda hazy after that.

“What happened to him?”

“He was attacked, it would seem.”

“Har har Captain Obvious. What do we do? He’s messed up pretty bad. I thought he’d heal himself”

“He’s been injured in too many places for his body to quickly recover, and these… things… they’re impeding his healing. They must be removed.”

Worried chittering. “Okay...how are we going to do that?”

“Nero, bring me some pliers.... And that bottle of whiskey in his bar.” “Okay...he will be okay, right?” “It will take more than this to take your uncle down, now go.” Agitated growling

“I know what I’m doing, Winston.” He felt the cool air of the office hit his chest as his shirt was ripped off.

Doubtful whine

“Cease your whining. If you’re implying that I will intentionally harm him, you are mistaken. It would make our future battles most underwhelming.”

Dante tried to mumble a clever comeback, but all that came out was a groan. Whatever he wanted to say had instantly vanished from his mind.

“Save your wit for later Dante…” Strange...Dante could have sworn he heard a slight tremor in that voice. He probably was hallucinating.

“Alright, I’m back...please don’t tell me you’re going to use the pliers for what I think you’re going to use them for.”

“I’ve done this before on myself. I know what I am doing. Now get ready to hold him down.”

“I’m pretty sure I got better stuff for antiseptic in my van than booze”

“It is not for him yet.... It is for… us”

Dante felt hands on his shoulders, a mumbled apology and then...a sharp burning pain in his shoulder. A scream ripped from his throat. And then...blessed silence and darkness.

------

He awoke to warmth on his chest, and a relaxing vibration, like one of those massaging pads he saw Lady use after a particularly taxing battle…

A battle? Yeah… he’d been in a fight, last thing he’d remembered. Some tank of a demon… he tried to recall more, but it took a while for snippets of images to filter back. He’d gotten hurt, pretty badly. And yet, he’d managed to make it home. Or maybe he hallucinated that, along with that giant crystal that turned out to be his brother’s sword.

He opened his eyes to find himself laying shirtless on his bed, with a large furry mass curled up on his chest, soft purrs reverberating through him.

He shifted slightly, but that was enough. Winston instantly woke up, and with a happy chatter, clambered up to put his wet snout right right in Dante’s face.

“Nice to see you too, Winnie.”

A shuffle came from the side of his bed and he turned to see both Nero and Vergil sitting on an old trunk that they’d used (after cleaning off a bunch of his junk) as a makeshift bench. There was something about how close they sat next to each other, and the lack of tension at doing so, that made his heart skip a beat.

“Bout time you woke up old man.” Nero said as he chewed some bubblegum, “Had to drag your sorry ass upstairs.”

“Good to see you too, kid.” He chuckled, but winced. He looked down and saw little pock marks all over his chest, little scars that looked so out of place on him.

“They will fade in time, once the poison flushes out of your system.” Vergil sat up, setting aside a book. Strange, his hair seemed most disheveled.

“Poison? I’ve been hit with all types of that shit, both human and demonic. Nothing left me feeling this crappy.” “It slows down the healing factor. In most circumstances you would have been able to shrug it off, but it appears that whatever attacked you,....” he paused, looking up for a moment to do some mental math, “fifty six individual times, began to overwhelm you. Had we not intervened when we did…” he coughed, unwilling to elaborate, but Dante knew exactly what the rest of the sentence would have been. “What DID attack you? I’ve seen similar wounds before, but never this numerous…”

“Eh…” Dante was reluctant to say. If he told them he’d been nearly killed by a demonic poisonous porcupine that could manipulate metal.... They’d either not believe him...or worse, they WOULD believe him and never let him live it down for the rest of his life. “Doesn’t matter, the thing’s dead,” he looked at their doubtful faces, and decided to distract them with a compliment, “Thanks to you sending the Old Girl to me.” He gestured to Yamato, back in her sheathe which lay propped up against the trunk.

Vergil’s face darkened in confusion, “I...I did not send her.”

“Wha?”

Nero began talking around an ever growing bubblegum bubble “Yeah, me and him-”

“He and I.”

“Yeah, yeah, anyways, we were sparring in the parking lot, and all of a sudden, POP!” The gum provided the sound effect, “Yamato just up and up vanishes. Dad was so shocked, began freaking out, so we went back to your place to figure out what we should do… and then you just appeared.”

“Weird.”

Vergil stroked his chin, thinking hard. “Tell me exactly what happened Dante, just before Yamato appeared. Leave out no detail.” Dante was kinda weirded out by such an invasive question, but whatever… so he relayed what he remembered (neglecting to describe the demon. That wasn’t helpful, he figured.)

“What were you thinking the moment before Yamato arrived?” Vergil was certainly persistent.

“I was...I,” he scritched Winston’s head, who accepted it gladly, “I was thinking of you. And Nero...about how much I missed out on both your lives...that I didn’t do enough to keep the both of you safe. On the day of fire...that whole Savior shitshow… That I…” Damn, the poison must still have an effect, his vision was getting blurry, so he squeezed his burning eyes closed.

“I see…” Vergil spoke, his voice trembling, “It all makes sense. Yamato first came to me when I was injured and surrounded, and my thoughts were of Mother and...you.” That was enough for Dante to open his eyes to gape at his brother, but Vergil was no longer looking at him, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“Huh, the same thing kinda happened to me.” Nero spoke into the silence. “Got skewered by that bastard Agnus, and I was on the verge of passing out...and all I could think of was Kyrie...about how I still needed to be there for her....” He tried to blow another bubble, but it popped prematurely.

“So what you’re saying is that Yamato can sense when we need help? That we can summon her when we get into trouble?”

Nero shook his head, “Nah, I don’t think it’s that simple. Look at the other thing all of our situations had in common. We all thought about people we cared about. That’s the kicker! Technically Yamato, being a devil arm, would be summonable by any old demon with enough willpower. But demons tend to care only about themselves. It’s when we think of others, when we tap into our humanity, THAT’S when she responds.

“It would explain why she did not come to me when I escaped the Underworld,” Vergil said, his eyes still fixed on the floor. I sensed her, but since I was thinking of only myself…”

“Oh no...we are not going through that again.” Nero rolled his eyes. “What’s done is done…” he patted his father’s back, who raised his head in surprise, “As long as you keep thinking about what’s REALLY important, not power, or trying to be the biggest badass on the planet, but the people you care about, I’ll let that whole ‘ripping my arm off’ slide.” Vergil stared at his son, before a soft smile bloomed on his face. It looked good on him.

“Even after these past two years, Nero… you continue to impress me.”

Nero went beet red and decided to pretend he didn’t hear his father say that. He looked at Dante “I suppose we should have a celebratory dinner. Cicero’s usual?”

Dante’s mood brightened immensely. “You betcha! Make it double, all that healing I’ve done has left me starving.”

Nero grumbled something inaudible as he left the room, as Vergil also got up. “I should check up on the laundry, I cannot believe how many filthy clothes you had in this room.”

“Aww big bro did my laundry, how sweet!”

“Do not get used to it.”

“LOVE YOU TOO BRO!” Dante yelled as Vergil left, risking some pain to chuckle again, which caused Winston to watch him inquisitively.

“You know…” Dante grinned at the raccoon, “It wasn’t just Verg and the kid I was thinking about, I was also thinking about you”

A happy chitter.