Chapter Text
During her time as a journalist, Kathy had covered civil wars, military attacks on civilians, drug lords and gang violence, terrorists, rebels, and even done some pieces on poaching. However, tonight she'd learned that she wasn't as jaded and desensitized as she'd thought she was. Or maybe it was the type of violence and the repeated onslaught that had her shaken.
Talking to Dante in the helicopter during the aftermath of the invasion had not prepared her to helplessly watch him nearly die, then see him force a smile to reassure the children while one crystal blue eye was still a ruined mess and his voice ragged from having his throat torn. Then, less than half an hour later, she'd helped him reattach Vergil's arm with office staples— which was grisly as hell, but the fact that it had worked did a lot to settle her mind. Then it got bad... again. At least she hadn't been alone in her worry for Dante this time, she'd heard Izumi, Patrick, and a few of the others trying to figure out how to get him to stop and warm up— but thankfully, Vergil beat them to it. It was all very touching (if also worrying), right up until Dante had screamed, Vergil had revealed there was more than hypothermia troubling the red devil, and then proceeded to bleed him out over a trash can.
But Dante had gotten better. Somehow, Vergil had saved him by nearly killing him, and now they were cuddled up together like two little kids, blissfully asleep.
Kathy had been one of the few adults to stay behind to watch, with most of the rest either rushing the children out of the room for a final emergency bathroom break before bed, or moving to the corner furthest away and keeping their backs to the procedure. Seeing Vergil rip open Dante's stomach… that had been whole new levels of intense. And this time, knowing it had helped Dante didn't make her feel less queasy in the aftermath.
"Well, that was horrible," Tammy Love said almost cheerfully as she slurped hot cider at the same table the twins had used (it was the only adult-sized table in the room). She had her son's impish sense of humor, though right now she wasn't smiling.
"Tell me it's not always that bad," Kathy said, almost falling into a chair as well, watching tiredly as the rest of the community filtered back in now that the coast was clear. It had felt like forever, but the whole "operation" had taken less than five minutes, and the clean up was done in under fifteen. Almost exactly the amount of time it took for everyone to perform bedtime rituals (something Kathy still needed to go do herself) and come back.
"It's not usually that bad," Izumi replied instantly, also sitting down with a sigh and propping an elbow on the table. "They do get hurt, but they're usually healed by the time they get back, and the only way we know something happened is their clothes being ripped all to hell and that they're hungry enough to eat half a cow the next morning."
"Dante was always like that," Tammy muttered, cider discarded and arms folded. "Cleaned me out of the leftover pizza on the regular. Took me awhile to figure out he'd been in a fight when he came in at the end of the day to buy out my leftovers."
"High metabolism?" Kathy inquired.
"Fucking unfairly high," Tammy agreed with the air of an aggrieved and overworked mother. "Those boys inhale food like Shaggy from Scooby-doo and stay skinny as twigs. Hell, Dante's somehow even thinner than he was when he lived here! It's not fair."
"I dunno," Patrick countered, glancing at the twins, buried beneath their blankets and completely unmoving except for the slight rise and fall of their shoulders as they breathed, "I think they pay a pretty hefty price for it."
That sobered up what little levity had been obtained. Izumi nodded. "There's always a give and take with things like this. Equivalent exchange. It's a law of nature, even if payment comes later, it always comes."
On that somber note, Kathy looked for something to distract her and found it in Vergil's sword, which still sat on the table. Dante's bloody hand print marred the otherwise flawless shine of the scabbard, and the white fabric on the handle also sported a red print from Vergil's hand. Despite that, it was a beautiful sword, elegant in the way that Japanese swords always seemed to be. Curious, she reached out for the hilt.
"I wouldn't," Izumi sing-songed, sounding like she'd actually like it if Kathy did. Her wickedly dancing eyes backed up the sentiment.
"Why not?" Kathy asked. "Will it curse me or something?"
"Nah," Tammy said, also smiling an evil smile. "It's just loud."
"Loud?" Incredulous, Kathy looked from the sword to the other people at the table, then back to the sword. Making up her mind, she touched the round guard, intrigued by the lovely scroll work. Instantly, her mind was filled with a chiming tone like someone had smacked the world's biggest tuning fork and jammed it inside her skull. Snatching her hand away, she shut her eyes tight and pressed both hands to her temples. "Ow."
The others laughed at her, which did not help her sudden headache, which in turn didn't help her still roiling stomach. When she finally opened her eyes, Izumi said, showing zero compassion, "Demon twins. Magic swords. Don't touch."
Patrick, a kind soul, set a cup of steaming cider in front of Kathy. It smelled amazing and she sipped greedily at it, nearly burning her tongue. "Don't feel too bad. Not even the kids can touch those swords without express permission."
"Travis said that Dante's sword has a tiger in it," Tammy agreed. They all glanced at the sword in question, which was leaning against the wall by the door. It was a huge thing, and Kathy didn't like the way the eye sockets of the skull caught the light. It looked like it was watching them.
The others seemed to share her feelings, as they all quickly split off to do their own things. For her part, Kathy went to get ready for bed. She had a lot to think over, and even more to write down before she slept.
Both Kathy and George's go-bags included top-rated sleeping bags, and Kathy found herself very grateful for that fact as temperatures dropped even further when evening became true night.
One of the extra space heaters was turned on in addition to the "fire place," to try and alleviate the cold, and Kathy now fully understood why everyone was gathered together despite the lack of privacy. (The trip to the bathroom had felt like she was on an expedition to the Yukon!) She couldn't imagine trying to sleep in one of the classrooms without the warmth generated by all the extra bodies. Some of the families drifted off quickly, but not all, or even most— with many children (and adults) made too restless by the storm and cold to really settle. The oppressive darkness didn't help either, especially for the children. Luckily (though it wasn't luck so much as simple experience and preparedness), Mr. and Mrs. Love had a huge box filled with glowstick necklaces and wands just for the kids to use during times like this. The library was soon dotted with multicolored lights, which did help alleviate the gloomy atmosphere, but did nothing for the cold.
The worst off seemed to be the new man, Rowan Anders, and his twin daughters.
Despite being placed right next to the fire, the girls still shivered hard enough for their teeth to chatter, and Anders wasn't much better. By dint of their job traveling to dangerous places and the subsequent gained experienced, Kathy and George had been drafted by Izumi and a few others to try and brainstorm better heating methods. If the girls or their father got sick, they'd need to go to a hospital, but something about the way Anders had reacted to the idea of asking the twins to cut a portal when they woke up… either he was too scared to ask them, or scared of going to a hospital.
Kathy was betting on both.
In the end, the problem was solved by the simple logic and trust of a child.
Abigail, who had been sitting quietly next to her father, listening to the adults, got up and went to the twin girls, who were huddled up by the fire, sniffling and shivering. "Come on, you two," she said. Very firmly, she took the younger girls by the hands and towed them over to the sleeping devils.
What was she up to? Kathy wondered.
After a beat of slack-jawed shock, Anders made an abortive lunge as if to try and grab them, only to be held in place by Eddie Love while Tammy hissed, “Just sit your ass down and let her work!"
Now doubly intrigued, Kathy watched as Abigail stopped at the edge of the twins' mattress, then crouched down and whispered loudly, “Dante, Vergil, please wake up!”
The red twin twitched, then groaned a little. It took a minute, but eventually he turned his head enough to see over his shoulder. “‘bigail?” he mumbled. “Wha… Wha’s wrong?” At his voice and the movement, Vergil’s eyes opened as well, waking up much faster than his twin.
“Sorry,” Abigail said, and really sounded like she meant it. “I’m really, really sorry to wake you up, but the new girls… Ophelia and Seraphina, they can’t get warm. The grown ups have tried everything else. Can you… Can you do the warm up magic? Please?"
Vergil shook his head. “We’re too depleted for that.”
Abigail started to droop, but brightened when Dante smiled tiredly and pulled away from his brother’s encircling arms. “Magic's too low, but we can’t just let a fellow set of twins freeze.” Looking past her at the twin girls, his smile softened even more and he held out a hand to them. “I give really warm hugs. Basically a mobile space heater. Just be super gentle with me and Verg, okay? We're kinda fragile right now."
Grumbling, Vergil shifted as well, leaving a gap between himself and Dante, just big enough to fit the two girls.
“It’s okay,” Abigail told the twins eagerly. “They’re like, everyone’s big brothers. You can trust them. Vergil just looks grumpy.”
“I am grumpy,” Vergil muttered, scowling.
“He is,” Dante confirmed, still smiling. “But he doesn’t bite, and neither do I. Not nestlings, anyway.”
Kathy wondered if she was the only one who saw Vergil’s expression soften as his brother said that.
Cautiously, the girls slipped into the offered space and Dante pulled up the covers. Almost immediately, their shivers slowed. Apparently, warmth beat out any remaining fear or shyness, because the next second, they were snuggled up against the two devils like they were giant stuffed animals.
Dante looked like he was about to explode over how cute the two girls were, but instead made soft chuffing noises that definitely weren't human and tucked them in tighter.
Abigail, pleased with her success, started to walk away, only to be caught by Vergil’s tail of all things. It vanished into blue sparks as she looked back at him, and he explained simply, “You are cold as well."
Abigail hesitated, then visibly shivered. After a glance back at her father for permission, she accepted the invitation and crawled in behind Dante, pressing in close to his back, which got an approving hum and another chuff from him. The corner of Vergil's mouth twitched in something that was almost a smile as she got settled. Maybe he'd been worried about Dante getting cold too.
“Cuddlepuddle?!” a child’s voice gasped and Lucy scampered over with her blankets and pillow, pausing at the edge of the mattress.
Vergil sighed deeply and rolled his eyes, while Dante chuckled. “Just remember we’re banged up, alright? No jumping, kicking, or fighting,” he said through a yawn. “This is strictly Citizens of Nod only, kay?”
Vergil’s blunt follow up of, “Sleep or leave.” set the tone, but did nothing to stop the imminent sleepover.
Suddenly, the size of the mattress made more sense beyond the very tall twins just wanting to be able to spread out.
Not all of the kids chose to join the “cuddlepuddle,” but quite a few did, mostly the ones young or friendly enough, or cold enough, to not mind the close quarters. The twins accommodated them with little fuss, except for Vergil apparently needing to rearrange the bedding. He had to let the kids do most of the work thanks to his bad arm and Dante being unwilling to budge until the Anders girls were completely warmed up, but the king-sized mattress swiftly resembled an actual nest of pillows and blankets. Satisfied, Vergil resettled next to Dante, (the Anders twins having sufficiently warmed up enough to not need to sleep between their devilish space heaters. Even so, Dante made sure they were next to him, obviously concerned that they would get cold again.)
“Does this happen a lot?” Kathy asked Patrick, keeping her voice as soft as possible.
He shrugged, smiling an indulgent sort of smile. “Not super often, since most of the time they hunt demons at night, but a few times when it got really cold. Mostly on the nights when we all had to be in here. Once or twice when a parent got held up and their kids were alone otherwise, so they’d camp out with the twins.”
Surprising. Also surprising that none of the adults were protesting. “And you don’t worry?” she pressed.
Pat eyed her for a minute, then snorted. “What? That they’re like, pervs or something? No. Not a chance. And that’s coming from me.” That was valid. A seasoned New York cop like Patrick would have his sense of suspicion honed like a very paranoid knife. “If something was off, then Abigail would’ve told me, for a start. For seconds, the kids wouldn’t love these damn sleepovers if there was anything hinky. Dante babysat most of those kids when he lived here, and they’d run to him if there was somethin’, or someone, worrying them. Don’t know much about Vergil, ‘cept he likes kids a hell of a lot more than he likes us adults. I'd be worried about my life expectancy around him if Dante wasn't here, but not Abigail's. Nah, Miss Keens, those kids are probably the safest humans in the world right now.”
Upon reflection, Kathy had to agree. The way Vergil kept glancing over the assembled children as if repeatedly counting them, and Dante personally making sure every kid he could reach was tucked in, despite wincing every time he moved… Yeah. Those kids were safe as houses. Safer than houses.
Kathy thought that would be the end of it, until the woman in the niqab slowly approached the impromptu sleepover, her daughter's hand held tightly in her gloved one. Very deliberately, she paused at the edge of what Kathy had determined was “children and devils only” territory, waiting until she had both Dante and Vergil’s attention. That didn’t take long, because, like the rest of the room, both were already watching, Dante with curiosity and Vergil with unconcealed suspicion. Again, very slowly and deliberately, the woman pushed her little daughter across the invisible line. The girl stumbled and nearly fell onto Travis and Jackson, but Travis braced her just in time.
Kathy sucked in a breath, all the other adults in the room giving similar reactions of concern and confusion. The reaction from both devils was the complete opposite:
They visibly relaxed, some thread of tension Kathy hadn’t even been aware of suddenly gone.
Dante smiled at the little girl, waving her in, and Vergil inclined his head to her mother. It was the little girl and mother’s turn to relax. The woman gave both devils a deep bow (or as deep as she could when so pregnant), and the girl tip-toed through the other children until she found an open spot next to Abigail to snuggle down in, the other kids moving to give her more space.
Dante yawned hugely, showing off his inhumanly sharp canines, then tugged sleepily at his brother’s shirt. “Come on, Verg. Bedtime.” Vergil had little choice but to let himself be pulled down, though didn't put up much of a fight. They carefully arranged themselves with Dante’s front to Vergil’s back, and Kathy realized that it was probably a deliberate choice to protect their injuries from any accidental kicks or hits from a sleeping child. Within moments, they both were out cold again. It took a bit longer for the kids to fall asleep, but not nearly as long as Kathy would’ve thought. Sleepovers, from what she remembered, involved a lot of late-night whispers and giggles. Apparently, kids were more inclined to obey directions from devils than from parents. Either that, or they were truly exhausted from all the stress and cold, and finally being warm and horizontal was enough to put their little lights out.
Everyone still awake decided to follow their example and moved off to try and sleep—even Rowan Anders, who had been nearly frantic with worry, seemed to have accepted the situation and huddled down by the heater—but Kathy’s curiosity had been piqued yet again by the veiled woman. Her journalist senses, already near bursting with everything she’d seen and learned today, were urging her to chase down this new source of information. What had that whole scene been about? Why had the woman, so obviously (and rightfully) terrified of Vergil earlier, urged her child into a possibly dangerous situation? And why had the twins, including the previously antagonistic Vergil, been so welcoming?
Finding the woman huddled with some borrowed pillows and blankets in the corner furthest from the devil twins, Kathy came prepared with a peace offering: another blanket and pillow, which the pregnant woman would surely appreciate. Holding them out, she waited for the woman to take both with a murmured thank you, then sat down against the wall, close enough for the semblance of a private chat (privacy in this room was a polite illusion, despite the concealing bookshelves), but not so close as to infringe on personal space.
“I never got the chance to ask you your name,” she said.
“You did not,” the woman agreed. It was the first time Kathy had heard her speak and Kathy couldn't place her accent. It was a New York accent, but in the way that it would be if she’d been taught English by someone from New York. The inflections were slightly off, and there was a soft, almost-humming intonation. It wasn't unpleasant to listen to, but almost completely foreign, even to Kathy, who had traveled all over the world— the only accent she'd heard that sounded even slightly similar was Vergil's. And if that wasn't another huge damn clue in blinking neon, Kathy was deaf and blind.
Silence fell, and Kathy realized that she wasn’t being direct enough. “My name is Kathy. What’s your name?”
“I am called Alma,” the woman said shyly.
“It’s nice to meet you, Alma.”
Alma nodded, hiding her gloved hands beneath the blankets. Her body language was a little hard to read with all the blankets and coats, and her expression nearly a wall thanks to her veil, but Kathy thought she didn't seem uncomfortable. Which was good.
Twenty years ago, Kathy would’ve overthought things before asking an intrusive question. It had cost her more than one chance at good question. Fifteen years ago, she might've at least hesitated before asking. But age and experience had made her fully embrace her natural nosiness and she'd already learned that asking indirectly didn’t work. “Why did you do that?” she asked Alma. “Push your daughter to go into the kid’s cuddle pile, I mean."
Alma blinked at her, startled, then tilted her head to one side, obviously thinking over—or maybe translating—Kathy’s question. There was another beat of hesitation, then Alma spoke, her words slow and careful, “It was… necessary.”
“Necessary?” Kathy asked, intentionally stressing the questioning tone.
Again a hesitation, this one longer as Alma apparently tried to think of how to explain. “It was… I’m not sure how to say it. It was… showing my throat. I was saying, ‘You are strong. You have power. I could not stop you if you wanted to hurt me. So I…” The spot between her eyes furrowed as she struggled for the words, “So I… So I surrender.’”
Hiding her dismay at Alma’s words, Kathy tried to find diplomatic phrasing, “That sounds frightening. I still don’t understand why you would do that.”
“For peace,” Alma answered instantly, her certainty a sharp contrast from her earlier hesitation.
Kathy both loved and hated how off-balance this whole day had left her. “For peace?”
“Yes!” Alma’s voice was firm, almost loud. “Just as the… the people here did.” She made an odd clicking sound, which Kathy read as frustration. Alma gestured in the direction of the sleeping children and devils. “For them, for devils, for demons, power is everything. Ev.er.y.thing.” She enunciated each syllable in deliberate emphasis. “Power lets you take. Power lets you keep. Power defends. Power means safe. I give away my reason to fight, so they know I will not fight. I won’t attack while they rest. I am no threat. I… I put myself in their hands. I trust.” Abruptly, her shoulders fell and she hunched in on herself, arms going protectively around her rounded stomach. “I hope.”
Gently, Kathy reached over to put a hand lightly on Alma’s shoulder. The woman jumped, but didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned into the contact, almost desperately. “Is it a demon thing, then?” Kathy asked lightly. “Cuddle piles?”
Alma stiffened and looked up, meeting Kathy’s eyes fully for the first time. The lighting in the room was awful, especially back in this dark corner, but Kathy could still see skin that was strangely textured and eyes a little too big to be quite right, with large irises a shade of yellow-green that was definitely not human-standard. Kathy gave Alma’s shoulder a squeeze and smiled reassuringly. While she may still be uncertain of the difference between sapient demons, devils, and Makains in general, Kathy trusted that Dante would know, and he had brought Alma here. Considering how hard he'd pushed himself to keep them all safe, she doubted he'd put them in danger.
Alma looked Kathy over, took in the smile and the hand that hadn't moved, then nodded slowly. When she spoke, it was even more slowly, “I don’t know of the true powerful, but for those of lesser strength… closeness is valued. There is so very much fighting and killing, so very much death, it is… special to not be hurt. But closeness is also feared. Because it can be taken away.” She again waved in the direction of the sleepover. “They are so strong that they are not afraid. It is… power. Yes. It is showing power to be close, and not be afraid.”
“And devils are all about power,” Kathy concluded thoughtfully.
Alma nodded in fervent agreement. "Touch that does not harm is the rarest and most treasured gift." Carefully, she raised her hand and put it over Kathy's own, as if in demonstration. Perhaps it really was a demonstration because there was strength in that hand. Alma had the hands of someone used to hard work, a supposition supported by her broad shoulders and strong build (though it was hard to tell thanks to her voluminous dress and pregnancy). Kathy felt quite dainty by comparison, which was not a feeling she was used to.
"Well, I think I can understand that. Or at least start to." Kathy considered everything, then asked, "Do you want to sleep a little closer to the heater? You don't have to stay back here if you don’t want to. These people are good people. You'd be safe."
Alma hesitated, then shook her head. "Thank you, but I am fine. I don’t feel the cold so much as others."
Kathy frowned, glancing down at Alma's very obvious baby bump. "Still, it doesn't seem right…"
At this, Alma laughed. She had a very nice laugh, low and almost trilling. "Thank you, but I am truly fine. This," she waved to the space in general, "is much much better than anything we have had in a very long time. I am content."
Kathy hated hearing that, but decided not to push. Standing, she said, "Well, ask if you need anything, okay? Talk to you in the morning, Alma."
Kathy could see the smile in Alma's eyes and hear it in her voice as she said, "Sleep well, Kathy, and thank you."
"You too." Mind still whirling, Kathy went to her sleeping bag, finding George already tucked in his. "Tell me you got a picture of the sleepover," she whispered as she fought her way into the mummy bag.
Without opening his eyes, he confirmed, "Had no choice. All of the parents except Mr. Anders remembered I'm a professional photographer and demanded photos. It is pretty dang cute."
Glancing at the dimly illuminated group of children and devils, all sleeping like little angels, Kathy couldn’t help but agree.