Fan Fiction ❯ Soul Searching ❯ Chapter 1

Soul Searching

Lady Mars

Disclaimer: I would like to make this one point before moving on: inspiration comes from funny places. I worry about myself when I get inspired after realizing that my life is utterly miserable at this point while trying to study for a history test and failing to have any drive, motivation, or desire to carry on with said activity. I'm going to rack up another bad grade; I was never cut out to be a college student.

Now back to the real point of this; I don't own Devil May Cry because if I did, I wouldn't have this problem right now. The story works better if you listen to the song at the same time, but you don't have too. I hope you enjoy my pain; it helps me to know that at least one of us isn't miserable.

* * *

You're beggin' me to go, you're making' me stay

Why do you hurt me so bad?

It would help me to know

Do I stand in your way, or am I the best thing you've had?

Believe me, believe me, I can't tell you why

But I'm trapped by your love, and I'm chained to your side

We are young, heartache to heartache we stand

No promises, no demands

Love is a battlefield

We are strong; no one can tell us we're wrong

Searching' our hearts for so long, both of us knowing

Love is a battlefield.

Love is a Battlefield ~ Pat Benatar

* * *

She crashed through the office door with a force that should have ripped it from its hinges and landed in the chair behind her desk with a thump. She all but collapsed onto her desk in a fit of emotion, exhaustion, and adrenaline. The night had been long and wasn't anywhere near being over for her. She took a shaky breath, trying to gain control of her emotions and succeeding slightly. But that victory would be short lived. With what strength she had remaining she sat up to stare at her officemate, but she was met with nothing but the blank wall across from her.

Trish collapsed onto the hard wood of her desk again, this time giving into her emotions. There was something that tore her heart to shreds when she didn't see his smirking face across from her, when she didn't see his glittering eyes telling her to toughen up without uttering a single word. She missed her partner, the cocky bastard that he might be, he was still hers and nothing would change that.

The first tear slid slowly down her cheek as she thought back, back on the events that had brought her to this state of emotional turmoil.

* * *

The fiends were heavy that night; Trish hadn't seen this many fiends in one place at on time since MalletIsland. It was unusual for them to come out in troves, but she knew that between the two of them they would get the job finished.

She swung the heavy mass of a blade that was Sparda through another marionette and smiled. The sword in her hands felt like home, like a home she had never known. There was something about being locked in the heat of a battle with the mass of steel that made her feel safe and normal.

A few feet away from her, Dante hacked through his own line of marionettes with the style and flair that was his own. Alistor shined with the demon's blood and the electricity that radiated from the man as he danced on the line of his devil trigger. There was very little that stepped into his path that left alive; he was fast, smooth and deadly. He was everything and anything she could have asked for in a partner. Between the two fighters, nothing would leave the area alive.

* * *

Her lithe form was racked with another round of sobs; she couldn't hold them back anymore. She was too far gone by now to care. She pounded her desk, shaking the occupants of the furniture piece with every cruel blow. Her wrist screamed in pain every time she hit it on the hard surface, but she didn't care. She was too mad with herself for leaving him behind.

* * *

The density of the pack seemed to be thinning which was marginally reassuring to Trish; the sooner they were done the sooner they could return to their rut of an office and drink the memory of the fight from their memories.

"How you doin' over there Trish?" Dante shouted over the din of the fight.

"Don't you worry your pretty ass over me," she shouted back while taking out another of the on coming puppets. "I can handle myself here babe." Dante chuckled at her reply; typical Trish response. He swung his blade and hacked another demon in half.

"Don't get too cocky, we're running out of room for your ego in the office," he quirked back.

"MY EGO?" She was cut off short as the blade of a Bloody Mari cut into her writs, causing her to drop the sword and instinctively grab the wound. Dante froze when he heard her gasp and the clatter of the blade on the ground.

"Trish?" He asked tentatively. "You ok over there babe?" Trish sucked in a few breaths to calm herself before replying to his query.

"Yeah," she replied kicking the Bloody Mari back far enough to give her time to rearm. "The little bastard got me." She hefted the sword back up and slashed the offending fiend in half, rage searing through her veins.

"You able to keep going?" Trish smiled. 'He's always thinking of my welfare.'

"I'll be fine." The pair continued to hack at the fiends. 'Will this ever end?' Trish's blade tore trough another body and she watched it fall in satisfaction; the fiends on her side were giving up, they realized she wasn't worth the fight. Trish smiled; things were going in their favor now. She turned to help Dante but was hit by a large mass which drove her into Sparda and the sword's tip into the concrete. She pushed herself upright on the blade and shifted to yell at Dante for sending the marionette into her.

"SPARDA, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU..?" She stopped when she had turned around fully to see the pale, panting face of Dante standing next to her. She slowly traced his sight line to the lumbering spider coming towards them. "Phantom?" The word had spilled from her mouth without her even thinking about it. Dante snapped from his ravine and grabbed Trish's injured wrist and took off, dragging the woman and her sword along with him.

Trish stumbled the first few steps, but quickly fell into step with Dante's long running strides. She knew why he was in a hurry to get away from the being; the first shot was always the worst. The pair ran for a few blocks before Dante pulled her into an alley. He held onto her as the mass of energy flew past their hiding place. Dante didn't relinquish his grip until he was sure that the being wasn't moving yet. He let out a small sigh and released her from his grasp.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled. "We needed to get out of there." Trish nodded her agreement.

"It's ok," she whispered. "I'll be ok." Dante slowly released her wrist, noting the blood covering her skin and slickening his gloves.

"Trish… I didn't realize…" She pulled her wrist back from him.

"It'll be ok Dante, don't worry about it."

"No it's not. Here," He reached into his coat and pulled out his black bandana. "Let me get it." He wrapped the cloth around her wrist a few times, tightening it as he wrapped it. "Its not too tight is it?" He looked up at her, a softness entering his gaze.

"No, no it's not too tight." She smiled meekly at him. He smiled back and crept to the edge of the alley.

"We need to get out of here." The hardness that only appears during fights had reappeared in his voice.

"I know that, but how?" Dante thought for a moment.

"I'm going to have to distract it for you to get away." Trish was taken back by what he said.

"You are going to what?"

"Distract it while you run." She shook her head to make sure she wasn't hearing things.

"Are you nuts?" Dante turned back and looked at her.

"We really don't have any other choice." The sincerity of the statement was locked in his gaze. "I can't let you fight this; you don't know what its like."

"But Dante…" He raised his hand to get her to stop.

"Trish, I care for you too much to let fight this thing. I'm not going to argue with you on this; you are going to go whether you like it or not." Trish nodded apprehensively. "Good." He leaned out into the street again. "When I tell you, run and don't look back." Trish nodded again, still unsure of herself and of his plan. Dante turned back to her and saw her fright. He set his hands on the sides of her face and stared into her eyes, kindness radiating from his. "You'll be fine, I promise." Trish swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I know I will, but I'm worried about you. Can you kill this thing?" Dante smiled at her gently.

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me." Trish was still worried, but knew he wouldn't lie to her.

"All right." He stepped out into the street, drew Alistor and looked back to her. "Her we go." He turned back to the street and Phantom. "HEY! HEY YOU NASTY BUG! I'M FUCKING OVER HERE!" Trish inched towards the edge of the alley. "YEAH THAT'S IT! A NICE SLOW MEAL, RIGHT HERE!" He turned back to Trish. "Go now!" The nodded and took off down the street, only turning once to see Dante running down another street, the Phantom following close behind.

* * *

Trish sniffled a few times, her tears all but spent. Her breathing was calming, but her stomach was unsettled by all of the emotions that had poured from her soul in the last few minutes. He was afraid, not only for him, but for her weakness; weakness could get her killed in battle. She feared weakness. 'Why do I feel this way? Why am I so weak without him? Why do I need him to survive? Why does my whole life revolve around him?' She slammed her fist onto the desk again and one of the photos fell off the surface and slammed onto the floor shattering the glass. At this action, she started crying again. There was no reason for these tears to be shed, but she couldn't stop. The offending particles slid down her cheek and patted on the desk, joining their brothers on the puddle that had long since dried on the surface.

She was so wrapped up in her grief; she didn't hear the heavy footfalls in the room.

He stopped at the edge of her desk and picked up the frame, brushing the glass shards from its surface and set it back in its home on her desk. He stepped around the back of the desk and set his hand on her shoulder. Trish's head shot up at the slight touch and turned to look at the intruder.

Dante smiled at her, squatting next to her chair. He was dotted with bits of the Phantom, as if the massive spider had exploded on him. He was covered in scratched and a black eye marred the pale skin surrounding his right eye.

"Hey there doll," he whispered, his voice cracking. She smiled genuinely for once, throwing her arms around his neck.

"You're ok," she stammered through her tears. He gently rubbed her back, trying to get her to calm down. It took a few minutes, but her tears subsided. He pulled back again to get a good look at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

"What's with the waterworks?" He whispered again, not trusting his voice at full strength. "I told you I would come back didn't I?" Trish nodded. "Then why the hell are you crying?"

"Because I'm weak," she replied. Dante's face too on a look of utter confusion. "I'm weak because I can't survive without you. You're the only reason I'm still alive." Dante rolled off his feet and landed on the floor with a thump.

"You really think that?" He tried to speak at full volume and his voice cracked ruthlessly. "You really think that you're weak without me?" he returned to a whisper to prevent making a complete fool out of himself. "Trish, you're the strongest woman I have ever met. You don't need me to survive; you need me because someone has to keep you in check. My wild side keeps you in check as does yours to me. We need each other for support, for help. But we still can function as individuals. You're not weak because you need my presence to survive, your strong because you don't deny the fact that you need me." She smiled weakly at him. She leaned forward and hugged him again.

"Thank you Dante," she whispered. "You don't know how much this means to me." Dante chuckled.

"I can fathom a guess doll." She released her grip and sat back in her chair.

"God, you're a mess." Dante let out a whole hearted laugh at this statement.

"Like I didn't know that." Trish stood up and pulled Dante to his feet.

"Let's get you upstairs and cleaned up." She swung his arm over his shoulder and slowly lead him towards the stairs.

"What about the glass?" Trish shook her head.

"I'll get it later. I know its there and I won't step on it." Dante sighed, his weariness finally catching up with him. "So what happened?"

"The damn thing chased me around the whole fucking city."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah." Trish chuckled. "What?"

"The thought of you running around the city, being chased by that thing." Dante chuckled back as she lead him up the stairs.

"It is kinda funny, now that I think of it." Trish burst out in laughter.

Back on the desk, the picture that had fallen from its roost shown a similar scene: Dante and Trish, enjoying each others company without realizing the others true feelings.

* * *

And you don't need to bother;
I don't need to be.
I'll keep slipping farther,
But once I hold on,
I won't let go 'til it bleeds.

You don't need to bother;
I don't need to be.
I'll keep slipping farther,
But once I hold on
I'll never live down my deceit.

Bother ~ Stone Sour

* * *