Chapter XXI: Goodbye and Good Luck

Dante drew a deep breath. He could already feel his demonic characteristics starting to fade; his aura settled at last and then sank away to all but Tess. His nails itched and ached as they started to recede and when he glanced down at his hand he saw a disturbing bruised sort of veining fade from his skin. His gums hurt. It took him a little longer than he wanted to meet her gaze, just to find that she was crossing the distance between them. She looked battered, he could already tell where she'd be bruised all over and her step had a slight limp to it. Her cut hand was oozing a bit. He thought she might embrace him but she stopped right before that.

"Are you okay, Twig?"

"Dante, are you alright?"

They spoke almost at once and it just made them both hush up suddenly and look at each other with awkward smiles.

"You good?" he asked, studying her.

Tess smiled tiredly and even chuckled a little. "Aw… you're worried about me," she teased. "I guess that means you love me?"

Well, there went all of his intentions to play it cool. Just, gone out the window like a thief in the night. His eyebrows crept up his forehead and for once more in his life – it had become something of a recurring theme since he'd met her – he found himself at a loss for immediate words. It occurred to him that his slack jaw and still visible fangs probably made him look dumb. He glanced to the side awkwardly, fishing for a witty retort of some kind but came up empty. He scratched the back of his neck.

"You can't throw my jokes at me, Twig," he mumbled.

She grinned. "Ooh, so you can dish it out but you can't take it?" she chuckled.

"Seriously, you're gonna give me shit after seeing me kill a bigass demon like that?" he protested.

She stuck her tongue out at him a little. "I'll always give you shit if it's warranted."

In spite of himself, he smiled and even chuckled. So fearless, so comfortable around him, even in the face of all this. He then squinted at her and rubbed his neck.

"Anyway…" he grumbled. "This… this better be the last demon nutcase that comes for you in a while because if I have to save you again, it ain't gonna be pretty."

"Wow, you are talking cute," Tess chuckled. "You better mind your demon side, mister, or I'm stabbing you again if you lose it."

The best part was that they both meant it, for pity's sake. He wanted to zing her or even… jokingly demand a kiss for his troubles but Roy had to interrupt them. He climbed over to the higher flooring with a grunt, in his good ol' human form. He looked awful, worse than before. He looked thinner and older somehow and his eye was bandaged over. Still, there was something very regal and dignified about him, even now.

Tess rushed to meet him and gave him a warm hug, disregarding the blood and grime covering him.

"Hey, old man!" Dante grinned. "Had to come rushing to the rescue, huh? You alright?"

Roy chuckled tiredly and patted Dante's shoulder. "I wish you'd stop calling me old, brat but let's drop that for now. I'm glad you're both alright. You had me worried for a moment."

He studied Chax's carcass for a long moment then actually patted both their heads. "I'm very proud of you both."

Dante did nothing to disguise his cheesy grin and Tess looked away with a rosy face. He'd honestly grown to love Roy's quiet but heartfelt praise.

"We really should leave, if you're both alright," he then said more seriously. "This is no place to dawdle in."

Dante shrugged and smirked. "You're getting soft on me, old man."

"Don't mistake my concern for complete forgiveness, boy," Roy grunted. "There's plenty I want to give you a thrashing for but now is not the time," he added.

Dante scoffed at that, but he freely admitted that even he wanted to get out of there. Dozens upon dozens of dead demons were strewn about and given that most had spawned from human flesh, it was unlikely they'd vanish soon. The place reeked of blood, body parts and the rank odour of death – Dante included.

He was frankly a little amazed they had come out of that fray relatively unharmed. He felt sore already and he couldn't imagine how tired Tess might be. Heck, she'd probably want to spend all of tomorrow sleeping. Before he let his thoughts wander to places they had no business being, he flexed his neck gently.

"So… how do we get outta here, old man?" he asked.

Roy made a sour face and squinted at him. "If you call me old one more time, I'll kick your sad half-demon arse out of here," he grumbled.

Dante just grinned and Tess stifled a laugh as Roy trudged past them towards the opening he'd barrelled through earlier. "At any rate… with Chax's death the spatial mess he'd made of this place's dimensions should have collapsed back into relative normalcy. I made a bit of a mess myself coming in but it ought to be easily to find our way out."

Dante resisted the urge to grab Tess' hand as they followed him. But… it should probably wait when they were out of this wreck and safe. He'd have all the time in the world to mess with her. They clambered over the debris littering the opening to see the bottom of a service stairwell that Dante was fairly sure they'd actually used when they came in. It looked much broader now than he remembered and he was fairly sure that it hadn't had so few floors. Roy actually looked a bit sluggish as they started to ascend and the pair looked at him with matching expressions of concern.

"I'm tired, what did you expect?" he dismissed them. "I've been through the tumble -dryer the last two days and I just had to wrestle with a greater demon who almost gutted me. Of course I'm tired."

Dante smiled sheepishly and realized it wasn't just Roy. He was starting to feel exhausted from his latest indulgence in his demonic side. He felt sore. He wanted to sleep so badly.

Navigating the actual staircase wasn't hard as it was intact and mostly clear of debris and detritus. It was nice and quiet too now, with the prevailing sounds being soft creaks of a settling building, dripping water or the rustle of falling dust. Roy led the way up at a fairly decent pace, despite limping a little bit and every other floor he paused to take a deeper breath before carrying on with the kids in tow.

Just when Dante honestly thought that they'd get out of this whole situation quietly, a brief but noticeable tremor shook the building; some dust crumbled down from the ceiling and the old metal railings rattled. They all stopped and Roy looked up, rather worried, while Tess looked down and behind them nervously. Dante grew tense but didn't dare to look back. Suddenly the idea of the building coming down on them as a result of Chax's messing around with it crossed his mind and he gulped.

"Keep moving," he muttered, staring right at Roy.

He gently nudged Tess on past Roy, who hesitated a little more and looked around him.

"What is it?" Dante muttered to the djinn.

Roy looked over his shoulder, his single eye darting around and examining the space behind and over them. He then glanced back up and ahead of them, his eye skimming along walls as they went up, floor to floor.

"I don't know," he started quietly, "but it feels…"

Another, more intense tremor interrupted him and Tess clung to Dante with a small gasp, still staring behind them nervously. Roy looked more alarmed by the minute.

"This isn't an earthquake. It's the building. But it's not a structural issue. It's—"

A loud sound, like the cracking of a rock came from below, the hall they'd just left behind. They all froze. Stone crumbled below. After that, there was a long, eerie silence...until Tess peered over the edge of the staircase and down below.

"Look!" she gasped.

Dante glanced down over the edge. There was… something squirming below them, in the dark. Like thick mud. It seemed kind of reflective, but as he squinted a little, he thought he could see faintly glowing, small lights. He strained his ears a bit and heard soft, splashing noises, like thick muck being stirred.

And then he heard the moans.

"What on earth—" Roy muttered, and then looked up at the walls surrounding them. "This is not good! Run!" he grunted suddenly.

Before Dante could ask why, he looked up and saw for himself. Not only was that mass below them surging really fast up the stairwell, it was starting to ooze out of the walls around them. Tess let a squeak as some of that ooze clung to her shoe and she pulled her foot away.

Puddles of that dark, indescribable substance were rising from the floor, squirming through the walls and dripping from the ceiling. It was neither water, nor mud. It was a strange substance, something between thick water and smoke; it looked neither dry nor wet. Dante's hackles stood straight up and he knew it in his gut that whatever this was, it was plenty demonic. And it felt familiar. The sounds it made, growing ever louder in his ears, were the most bizarre. He heard strange, groaning noises, like many people stuck together, heaving and gasping.

They almost sounded like words.

"Run—don't just stand there, run!" Roy called, grabbing both by the arms and urging them to run.

"Th-this thing—I can hear voices in that thing!" Tess stuttered, squirming away from it.

Dante put his arm around her as she bumped into him. He couldn't help but stare at that bizarre thing coming at them. It gave him a chill down his spine and when Roy gave the order, he didn't even bother to question it. He ushered Tess ahead as they all started a quick pace up the stairwell. The ooze gave off a foul odour that made Dante's skin crawl for its faint familiarity. It smelled like mildew, like decay – it smelled like death and yet at the same time it smelled of the Underworld, sharp and scorching.

"What the hell is this thing!?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Tess stuttered. "It… it might be a haunting! A gestalt."

Dante blinked. "What?"

"Remember when I said a lot of people…had died here?" she panted. "It's them! Everything they felt about…dying here – and the just killed a great demon right in the crux of their suffering! They felt it…it reached out—Chax reached out as he was dying and twisted them into this! It's…a single and hundreds of entities at once."

That explanation didn't help things and Dante growled quietly at the sound that the tortured mass of souls was making. It grated him in a different way than the presence or challenge of demons. He ground his teeth irritably as they ran up the staircase. Roy's less than cool-headed look, as he kept glancing back to make sure the two were following him, was not helping matters, either. He cast anxious looks at the mass that was now surging and actually had begun following them like a giant slug, rapidly skidding up the stairs.

"Damn everything!" Roy snarled. "We'll be stuck with this entity – it'll take either destroying the building or exorcising them all at once but we haven't got the means—"

"The building—" Tess choked. "No, Roy, they might—"

They were nearly at the top of the stairs. They'd almost made it but it happened too suddenly to stop. The mass of tortured souls caught up with them and dozens of grasping hands stretched from it, groping ahead for anything they might latch onto. Fatigue had worn them all down, Tess even more so. She lagged and in her exhaustion she got careless. Her foot slipped on a step and she stumbled, enough for a hand to close around her ankle. She yelped at the contact and then shouted as she fell forward – she barely managed to put her hands out and break her fall before her face hit the steps. The grasping hand tightened around her leg and pulled her backwards suddenly, making her scream.

The intense, unbearable emotions trapped by those tormented, struggling souls reached out like toxic, choking fug and overwhelmed her. Tess felt them tugging at the edges of her conscious and her vision and the sheer dread she experienced from them paralyzed her. More hands reached out of the mass and grasped for her, seizing her legs and pulling her backwards. They snaked around her waist and reached further up, pulling her slowly ever closer to the main mass. Faces began to emerge and then submerge in the surface of the gestalt, the voices getting louder and more desperate. Their eyes glowed white, empty and dead and mouths gaped open in frozen, silent screams of agony.

Dante almost slid off the landing in his haste to stop and turn around for her. The tremors of the building weren't stopping. He drew Rebellion from his back and rushed down for her. He hacked at the ghastly hands reaching up for him, mercifully finding that Rebellion could push them back, but only temporarily. The sword went through them, pulling them this way and that way like smoke, but not finding anything solid to strike. Its demonic properties didn't seem to do anything to them.

Tess shouted weakly, struggling in the hold of so many hands. She felt herself sinking inside the mass like thick, murky water. She tried to use fire, but all she could produce were weak little sparks that did nothing. She panicked, clawing at the steps in front of her for purchase an effort to escape. Concentrating on reality got harder and harder. The mass started dragging her backwards and Dante grew desperate. He pulled out Ebony and tried a charged shot, as reckless as that was.

Nothing. The mass absorbed the bullets and the power like so much greedy foam.

Her hand slipped from the railing that she tried to hold onto and suddenly Dante abandoned all form of attack and instead lunged forward, grabbing hold of her forearm. He gasped; this thing was trying to forcefully tear her away from him and Dante reached out with both hands to keep his hold on her without hurting her. He hissed sharply and glanced down. The mass was starting to surge around his legs and its touch stung like freezing ice.

"Goddammit…" he growled. "Tess!" he snapped, seeing her dazed.

She stared back, with eyes wide with fright but evidently doing her best to resist the gestalt and trying to climb away with a desperate grip on his arm.

"It's trying to possess me!" she shrieked.

Dante grit his teeth and dug his feet into the slippery floor for leverage, knowing she couldn't resist forever but unable to properly employ his full strength without fear of hurting Tess.

As the gestalt's mass surged around his legs and trapped him too, Dante felt the temperature dropping rapidly. He started feeling the pressure of this thing's trapped emotions. They pressed against him like an infection with nothing but a thin gauze seemingly between him and it. He felt as though he was teetering on an edge and if he allowed it, the despair and anguish of the gestalt was going to surge forth – and it would be too much for either of them.

They would die just from the suffocation of so much pain.

The stairs shook again and Dante looked over his shoulder to Roy. He was forced to stop at the top of the stairs just above them, unable to step further down from intensity of the rumbling. Debris was crumbling down around them and he seemed hesitant to tax the staircase even more.

"Dante! Don't let go of her! Whatever happens don't let go of her arm!" he managed to shout.

Another tremor shook the stairs and Roy was forced to brace against the railing beside him and drop to a knee lest he fell over.

"What am I, stupid!?" Dante barked back, struggling to keep his hold on Tess' arm.

Entire torsos pushed out of the mass by now and Dante could recognize tortured people, twisted by this miasma that bound them all together. The sheer mindless fury of this thing, driven by the residual will and frustration of the dead demon was rumbling the very building. A hand grabbed at Dante's thigh, while a glob of mass flooded under him, pulling him in. Tess yelped when a torso emerged and wrapped its arms around her waist. She struggled, kicking and screaming to pull herself towards Dante, trying to free her other arm.

The mass surged up the stairs, piling and piling like a giant head rearing from the writhing bodies. It actually opened a maw, revealing endless darkness and two lethal points of pale light along with a slit grin, all fangs.

"Chiiiiildreeeeeen…." It crooned in a low, horrible croak.

The mass pulsed and the points of light grew closer. The grin parted into a sickening light, silent and grey. Dante's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth – he felt his gums ache as his canines started to swell again.

"You…" he snarled.

Something that might have been Chax once, or still was or maybe never had really been, stared out. Maybe it was the demon, maybe it was just his will, echoing after death, latching onto the dead.

"Giiiiiiivvveeeee meeeee…" it intoned.

Dante wanted to say something snappy but all that came out of his chest was a snarl.

"Dante!" Roy shouted. "That thing! Strike it down! It's exposed itself, you can hurt it!"

The grin parted more and the light wriggling behind it stretched out, oozing, vague and hungry. Tess screamed. Dante rushed forward, arm around her and stabbed forth with the sword.

"GIIIIIIIIIIVEEEEEEE" the gestalt howled, shaking the entire building.

The demonic sword sliced at the squirming and pulsing light as the main body of the gestalt surged forward, pulling them both closer into itself.

Dante's fixed snarly parted for a deep, angry "NO."

He swung the sword again, jamming it into the 'mouth' before him, forcing it in until it would go no further even as the substance creeped up his face. His crimson aura sparked violently, the blade almost thrumming with the will directing it. The malevolent points of light shrank then expanded as if in shock and a sound like shattering glass, over and over until it grew into a droning noise. The 'core' shuddered helplessly and every single trapped soul seemed to scream all together until the pitch and volume became unbearable. Dante pushed the sword in, twisting it and at the same time, tightened his grip on Tess and succeeded in pulling her closer.

"Hold on," he growled. "I'm not letting them take you."

Feeling her grab at his arm with her hand, locking their grip on each other, was the best response she could've made and she tried to push herself away from the gestalt's grip, holding onto him.

A loud scream rose above them all, like steel nails dragged over glass, deafening to the point of hurting their eardrums. The building shook violently and Dante heard the crack of walls and the snapping of metal. The dark mass suddenly convulsed, spiking up as if in complete pain and began thrashing. Its motions were erratic and violent, almost twitching like a seizing heart. Dante felt its grip on him loosening and tightening in turns as if its strength was waning. Tess managed to free herself a little more and grabbed onto Dante's shoulder as his arm locked around her waist. He pulled Rebellion away from the core and heard a screech of tortured metal – he quickly grabbed hold of Tess with both arms to help her pull away.

The violent thrashing of the mass actually shunted them both backwards and onto the staircase violently – Dante grunted as the stairs bit into his back and Tess jolted against his chest with a groan. The gestalt reared back onto itself, still screaming with a thousand mouths and writhing like a ballooning heart. The whole stairwell rocked violently like a boat caught in a storm. Dante was still struggling to stand when the staircase simply crumbled under them.

The gestalt began falling through the crumbling staircase into the void below as the concrete of the entire structure broke apart rapidly. Dante kept his hold on Tess as they pushed up and attempted to outpace the crumbling stairs. Suddenly there was nothing under him and he felt themselves falling through the breaking staircase. There was nothing he could do, short of finding some edge to grab onto or drawing his sword again and trying to dig into the walls to slow their fall into the darkness—

And then an arm grabbed his. There was a grunt and the fall stopped suddenly. He looked up to find Roy, half hanging off the remaining edge of the stairs, grabbing onto the railing still left. He'd sprawled himself on the landing and reached down, practically plunging in after them. He was slipping and for a few tense moments Dante held his breath and tightened his grip on Tess' waist as Roy struggled to find proper purchase with crumbling concrete and dust precipitating over the edge.

The old man groaned, the one-armed grip straining him but he didn't let go. Dante could feel the vice of a grip holding onto them but never complained. Tess hung unto Dante, babbling in a panic. Her arms were latched around his neck and her legs nearly locked around his waist comically.

"Damn…!" Roy grunted quietly.

"Holy shit, Roy…" Dante mumbled.

Next came the hard part, climbing back out of there. Below them the noises of impact continued for a while, as did the multiple screaming. Somehow they managed to get out, first by leveraging Tess up and then both she and Roy heaved Dante out. Neither could really relax – or stop shaking – until they'd backed well away from the staircase and onto solid ground. They all sighed in relief but Dante couldn't find it in himself to let go of Tess' hand.

"Hurry, we need to get out. I've no idea if that thing will stay down for the count – and I don't care to find out if the structure will hold!" Roy growled and pushed them forward so they all started to job – they were too exhausted to run properly.

The rest of the building was quiet, all trashed hallways and empty rooms, must smaller and less sinister than it had been when they entered – this was likely its normal state, not the twisted version Chax had created. Roy was hot on their heels, limping and breathing hard. The shaking started again; the whole building rumbled with the squirming of what was left of the gestalt.

"The hell are we gonna do about this, old man!?" Dante barked. "I don't get what that thing is but Chax is in it—"

"His will and frustration, more likely!" Roy panted briskly. "The rest of it is the will of the dead trapped here! If this thing escapes the confines of the structure that created it, who knows what it could do. It might devour the city!"

"So now what!?"

"If the building were destroyed—" the djinn managed. "With the locus of its torment gone it should disperse safely—"

"Great! How're we gonna destroy the building?! You got any fucking dynamite in your pocket, old man!?" Dante snarled.

They blindly ran down hallways, much more straightforward and easily navigable than the ones they'd met on their way in. They had to vault over, duck under or around fallen debris all the time. Roy herded them towards the true entrance of the building.

"I'll… I'll do it… I think…" Tess uttered between hard breaths.

"How, Twig!?" Dante snapped. "You're in pieces, even you can't blow up a building right no—"

"I'll do it!" she snapped back at him.

They burst out of the front doors easily – the doors, once boarded over and bolted, lay in pieces inside the lobby they opened into, likely Roy's work. The building shivered around them and somewhere far back, there was a whining groan. They made it halfway down the hill the place was built on and stopped. Tess wrenched herself free of Dante's hold and turned to face the building. She was breathing hard and studied the structure. Dante stopped and saw her raise her arms in front of her as if she were trying to visualize something. He felt the sparking of her power even before he could see it. He felt it travel, reaching out invisibly and then he saw the blooming of flame inside one of the windows of the building but it died down depressingly quickly.

Tess tried one more time but the fire… seemed to sluggishly ignite just in front of the building with a loud puff before dying out and Tess almost keeled over.

"Dammit, Twig, you're being fucking reckless. You're exhausted—" Dante grunted and stooped over her.

She slapped his hands away. "Shut up, I need to do this!" she snapped and tried once more.

This time there was a somewhat bigger flame, belching out of one of the windows on the side, licking along the structure but still nothing particularly explosive. There was a rumble and some windows blew outwards. She almost fell to her knees this time, breathing hard.

"It's not taking," Roy said with alarm.

"Dammit… I really… am spent," she whimpered. "I can't… I can't reach deep enough. I can't make it strong enough."

Dante stared at her then looked up at the building. He narrowed his eyes. He suddenly parted his lips as something dawned on him. He could feel the demonic root still squirming in the root of this problem. He somehow knew exactly where the problem lay. And he thought about the rush of power in his veins when she gave his sword her fire. That had all been him. He took that spark she gave him and fed it on his demonic power and made it good and nasty. She was out of stamina and out of strength. He had vast supplies of both, he just needed the spark.

He grabbed her hand to pull her up to her feet.

"I'll do it, then. I know where it is. Give me the fire Twig, I'll set it where it needs to go," he said.

She blinked up at him. "Wha…?"

"My guns, Twig. Light me," he said and smirked. "I'll blow the top off this fucking place."

She seemed to comprehend but it made her worry suddenly. "But—if it backfires—"

"Do it."

She blinked a few times – she had been on the verge of crying again – and nodded. The building trembled. A slow, creeping crack came from the structure, beyond the small fires ignited and there was violent smashing.

Dante drew his guns from under his coat. He had to give in to the persistent tugging in the back of his head, he let his demonic side wake up again. His arms started to tingle and then crackle as power gathered and coiled like a spring wound to a breaking point. Tess gulped and he felt and heard her trying to start the spell but it wasn't taking.

"Damn… it's—it's different with the guns, I can't—" she muttered.

She suddenly reached out and embraced him, pressing against him and grabbed his wrist.

Dante started, seeing the crackle of his demonic energy suddenly increase. "Hey—Twig, no, don't touch—"

"Quiet, this is the only way it'll work!" Tess snapped at him. "If we all blow up it's gonna be your fault!"

She started to speak the spell again, the words coming weaker than previously but still scorching. Dante felt the sparking course through him. It surged through his body and settled in his chest. It felt so good, travelling through him, roiling in his blood and growing as he fed it more power. It bubbled up in him like a warming drink, just even more so and ten times more intoxicating. A greedy smile spread over his face. She was giving him this power and he took it, he wanted more and more.

He inhaled sharply and almost regretted it. His senses had grown incredibly sensitive and he was suddenly all too alive to her presence. She smelled good. She smelled of blood and battle – there was a fresh cut on her face, not to mention the deeper gash in her hand from earlier. He smelled her blood and it smelled… delicious. He gulped.

Suddenly he wrapped one arm around her, still holding the gun and pointed the other at the building. She was sagging against him and breathing hard, he could feel her breathing against his shirt; doing this was taking a lot out of her on top of everything she'd been through. He nearly pressed his nose into her hair to inhale deeply. His teeth felt sharp, his nails grew sharp—

His eyes were sharp.

The power gathered in him was tremendous; he could feel it bursting out of him in soft sparks and flickers of flame along his arm. The gun crackled violently with power.

"Dante—"

"Ready?" he muttered.

She gave a nervous nod.

Her hand on his wrist was warm. For once, his hands were cold. The building above them shuddered again. From the front doors he could see shadows gathering, the flicker of lights, the writhing. He unclenched his fangs.

He spoke again, very gently, "On my mark. Hang on now."

He adjusted his aim just a little and tried not to breathe. But she smelled so delicious.

"Three."

She drew in a shaky breath. His heart beat faster, the power gathered in him now feeling unbearable. Close to bursting. He felt lightheaded.

"Two."

Her grip on his wrist trembled with anticipation and fear. He found it harder to concentrate, trying not to listen to her breathing. The writhing shadows grew deeper at the door.

"One."

His smirk grew wide, sinister. His senses were on fire. He almost licked his lips in excitement.

"Boom~"

He pulled the trigger.

It was like letting go of a massive weight at the end of a rope. All the fire, fed on demonic energy, under pressure, gathered at the tip of the gun and with only one way out, went off loudly. It launched outwards with the brightness and ferocity of an angry star and a roar like a furious dragon. Dante could swear he heard a small whistle coming from Roy and Tess yelped. The kick from the shot was powerful enough to make Dante stumble backwards while Tess pulled her hand close to her chest and whimpered painfully, shaking it vigorously.

The thunderous din echoed through the day-break. The shot had a trailing tail of dancing flames in its wake and travelled straight for the writhing shadows at the doors. The ground it passed over was deeply scorched and it dipped into the darkness, where it burst. Light, flames and searing heat spread through the building and Dante felt it travelling everywhere. He chased down that vague feeling of the darkness trying to retreat into the depths and he wouldn't let it.

The rest happened very fast; first was the flash, a blinding light coming from the openings of the building, peeking through the boarded over doors and windows. Dante grabbed Tess by the waist and they pulled away in a hurry when the thrust-wave came along. It hit with a deafening roar and jolted them, followed by the blasting roar of a serious explosion and the flame-tongues, lashing out in the wake of the eruption. The ground shook.

Dante grinned when he felt it all find home. The crux of the problem.

And boy, did it take.

The flames jumped out any opening they could find and then erupted through shattering windows, breaking any boards nailed over them. The fire ballooned outwards, towards them, but Tess stretched her shaking arm out.

"Go back inside," she muttered tiredly. "Back inside… burn everything down. Everything… everything."

Dante watched the fire turn back into the building – he felt her take control and guide it, almost like a caress of her hand – though it needed little help anyway. He could sense the fire, sparks travelling along walls, floors, catching anywhere they could, along piping and walls, any flammable surface they could find. He could hear the crack and grind of walls. The whine of old wood. The pop of strained joints.

The brunt of the blast was contained within the thick walls of the former prison, the weaker portions falling in and through it, the roof collapsing first. Glass and debris flew outwards but they were pretty well clear of any falling rubble.

Dante put his guns away in a hurry to support Tess who seemed to be struggling to stand and breathed hard. Roy came up behind them and looked strangely pleased when Dante looked up at him, his hands on his waist.

"Very impressive," he chortled. "You worried me for a moment. I think it's working. Oh, listen."

He held up his hand, finger pointed upwards and tilted his head to listen. Dante blinked and he could hear the distinct noises of crumbling stone, thuds and ear-piercing creaking and groaning. The building started to sag.

"That's called…structural supports saying adieu, permanently," Roy cackled.

Large tongues of fire and thick black smoke began to escape from wherever they could, consuming the wretched building. Dante felt Tess lean against him, breathing and gently squeezed her shoulder. His nails were starting to shrink, fortunately. He'd never seen flames take hold so fast and suspected some of it was Tess' doing. It… felt good watching this place go down.

"Ah, it's working," Tess said tiredly, looking up. "The gestalt… is dissipating."

Dante squinted but all he could see were faint, strange wisps escaping the building along with the smoke. He glanced down at Tess. She looked depressed and by the way her eyes flitted about he felt she was following something with her gaze. She likely could see a lot more than he could.

"They're free now, at last…" she muttered.

He smiled wryly. "Huh… guess that's one thing off my bucket list," he said quietly. "Saving dead people."

Tess chuckled weakly. Roy put his hand on Dante's shoulder.

"Come on. We should leave," he said quietly.

Dante didn't like how pale she looked when they turned and with Roy at their heels, started a quick walk out of the former asylum's grounds. Dante kept supporting her but as they got further from the place, she seemed to regain some of her strength.

Dawn was just breaking and the city basked in the morning chill and dew. Even then Dante could tell that their act had a profound effect on the city. It felt…lighter, somehow, like a weight had been peeled back from it. The air felt cold but crisp and unfailingly sweet.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Roy asked quietly.

"Yeah," Dante said awkwardly.

"Won't be without consequences, though," the djinn said, troubled. "This is quite the message to send into the Underworld – and believe me, someone's bound to have felt Chax dying. Beaten by children, no less."

He glanced at Dante and smiled wryly. "You pipsqueaks are starting to scare me."

"P-pipsqueaks!?" Tess protested.

Dante chortled. "Aw, that's just payback for callin' him old."

Even so… as they slowed down at last, something preyed on his mind. "Hey, Roy…" he said. "Are you… are you guys gonna take off now?"

Tess suddenly froze and became very quiet. She shrugged defensively, while Roy looked down and away. Right as her hand slipped away from his, Dante knew the answer to his question and his heart sank.

He didn't expect to feel so beside himself, really. He hadn't truly realized how much this feeling of comfort in human contact had grown in him since he started living with them. He'd grown accustomed to it. But now that it was being taken away he realized just how deep it had gotten. He had not known such warmth and sense of belonging since his family was lost. And now… he had to give it up yet again? All he had to look forward to was a life of vagrancy, yet again. Being an outcast among humans, unwanted and apart.

He was angry. He whipped around and although he wound his arm to punch the wall he happened to be standing near, thought better of it and just leaned against it, hanging his head.

"Great…" he muttered. "Fucking great… we save the day and you're gonna bail on me—"

Tess grabbed him by the arm to turn him around. "Dante—stop that. You think I want to leave?!" she said. "But I have to. You don't… you don't understand covens. They'd make me… choose."

He couldn't help glaring at her, feeling betrayed. "Then why—"

"I didn't tell you because I knew you'd fight it," she said quietly. "I know what you're like. You're… you're a little slow on the uptake but when you do, you figure out everything. You never listen."

He grunted at that accusation. "Tess…"

She wouldn't look up at him. "They wouldn't let me stay—they'd take me back by force if they had to, now that the agreement's made."

Dante just got angrier. He swatted her hand from his arm and loomed over her. "You don't get it! Quit trying to make excuses about this!" He got in her face. "All this time… I've been trying not to get attached and yet here I fucking am! You made me like you and now I'm stuck with it!"

He actually smacked his fist against the wall weakly. "And now you're just gonna run off."

Against all odds, he felt his eyes sting and glaze over, so he turned away before Tess could see. But she yanked him back around angrily.

"You think I don't know?! You think I'm blind!?" she barked. "You think I don't feel the same, you fucking moron!?"

Dante was startled. She still wouldn't look at him and he thought she might even start to cry. "I'm trying to fucking protect you!" she snapped. "I know what covens are like. If I try to stay they'll come for me and—and—if I took you with me, they'd just use you!"

"I don't—" Dante stammered. "I'm not scared about a bunch of freakin' witches trying to tell me what to—"

"No, you would because I know what you're like! They'd play me as a bargaining chip because they'd know you like me! It's your weakness, dammit!" she insisted. "They're ruthless like that! They have to be – it's how witches survive, you've seen what demons want from us! They won't care about who you are, dammit. Only as far as it suits them. It's all duplicity and schemes—"

She whipped around to Roy who had been trying to stand back and give them privacy. "Tell him!"

Roy's shoulders sagged. "She's not lying, Dante. Nor are we exaggerating. The wiccans of the Rosengard coven are not a lot you want to mess with. They will use Tess to manipulate you for whatever purposes they see fit. They aren't evil but this is simply how covens work. That's how they survive."

He shook his head. "We… we're part of that kind of life already. We know how to deal with it. And Tess… needs to join the coven. They're the only ones who can teach her now that Magda's dead – I promised Magda I would see to this because it's the only way. You hold no importance to witches now, Dante. You'll be nothing but a tool. And I, for one, don't want to see that happen. You're safer on your own than Tess is."

Tess finally looked up at him and she was trying not to cry. "I knew this would've happened," she said quietly. "I knew that this… this good thing – us – I knew it wouldn't last. It never does. I saw it… I saw it when we did that stupid Tarot reading. And I tried to find a way to stop it but it happened anyway."

She covered her face with her hands and Dante suddenly wanted to hug her. "I don't want to leave but I have to! You dumb-ass!" she whimpered and punched his chest weakly until her fists rested there in exhaustion and she hung her head. "I tried…I couldn't change this, like I can't change anything… I'm cursed, godammit—I see things coming and I can't stop them! I don't want to go!"

She leaned into his chest and started to cry, unable to contain herself any longer. She cried in sobs and her shoulders were quaking so much that Dante felt the need to hug her and she wrapped her arms around him, crying quietly in his chest. He let a drawn breath, looking down at her.

"You're right…" she sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I know—I know we both—changed. You turned my life into a mess and I'm—I'm glad you did. I didn't…I didn't realize how truly lonely I was. You pulled me out of it with your—your teasing and your—your stupid jokes. And I didn't—appreciate how good it feels until now that I have to go—"

She hiccupped and he squeezed her against him lightly. "I have—I have to let you go or they'll—they'll ruin you. I have to be alone again—and I'm scared! I'm scared I'll never—I'm scared I'll die all alone. I'm not scared of demons anymore but that scares me!"

Dante bit his lip. He wanted to pretend that everything she said wasn't affecting him, he wanted to still be angry at her and shout and argue… but it hardly seemed to matter. He squeezed her close again and tried to maintain his composure but tears were welling up in his eyes. He wasn't… as far from crying as he'd wanted.

"Dammit, Tess," he grunted.

"If—if I let go of you now, I'll know you'll be fine. You're…you're amazing, you know?" she said. "It's kinda scary, really, how strong I think you'll get. I mean, in a good way. But others… might not see it like that. That's what I'm afraid of. And I don't want to let that happen. I'm sorry. You can't… you can't change my mind. I need to protect you—don't you dare make this any harder on me than it is."

He felt her break down against his chest and all he could do was hold onto her, well-aware he was about to lose this feeling. The simple fact he could hold her. But he couldn't accept it. He shook his head in silent denial even as his eyes stung and tears started streaming down his cheeks.

"That's not true," he mumbled. "We'd be…we'd be fine if you stayed. Hey you know… I've been thinking for a while. I should set up a damn business hunting demons. With… an office and all. You would…be my partner, right? I'd even let you pick the name, Twig."

Tess said nothing, just choked a sob and a little, sad laugh. Roy forced a cry smile, putting his hand on Dante's shoulder.

"It sounds like it will suit you very well, you know," he said, trying not to sound sad.

He loathed that deep down, he understood perfectly well. He always knew that his life being plagued by demons was an inevitability. He was drawn to them as much as they were prone to flocking to him. And he knew that now they'd never leave her alone, either. Unlike him…she wasn't ready for this kind of life, yet. Yes, she had Roy to look after her, but he could only ever do so much, especially if she would have to worry about disgruntled wiccans too. It made sense.

He would be fine, on his own. He always had been. He always kept people at a distance, anyway, to protect them from the demons always stalking him.

From his own demonic heritage.

How was what she was doing now any different?

But it hurt so much.

"Roy…when do you need to leave?" he asked, trying not to let his mind wander to wild alternative solutions.

Roy looked away blankly. Dante thought he might have been trying to fight off tears. "Soon. She needs to be at the coven by tomorrow or the deal is off. Listen… they don't know about you. And they never will, not from Tess, not from me. That way, they won't have their eye on you," he said. He finally looked back at the teenager. He seemed so frustrated. "Dante…I'm so sorry. It's all we can do. You two will need to parted for a long time – I can't tell how long, I can't even think about it. And it all must stay a secret. Where we go and where you go. Neither of us can know. That way, they can't get it out of us."

Dante just grumbled a curse quietly and brought his hand up to stroke Tess' hair. He might never get to do it again.

"I need you to listen to me," Roy said, making Dante look up again.

He sounded very serious but also strangely fatherly. Dante felt he'd miss hearing it, too.

"Tess has a point, about you. You've proven that you're strong and skilled, that you can take on the worst the Underworld can throw at you. And that's good. You'll grow into your power but until you do, the less of a target you have on your back, the better."

Tess finally looked up from crying into his chest. "I've caused you enough trouble to last you a lifetime. I can't hide behind you or Roy forever. I want to take some fucking control of my life, even if it has to be this way."

Dante scoffed in frustration. "Trouble, Twig? Your problems are my problems too," he said sharply.

She grabbed him by the lapels angrily. "No. Not this time. You've done enough for me. I'm—I'm going to come back. I don't care what it takes, but I will," she said angrily, but then she put her hand up and touched his cheek. "And you… better be worth it, you hear me? Don't stay a punk forever."

He smiled stiffly. "You're tellin' me to trust a witch?" he said bitterly.

It was a terrible joke on his part but he just felt so overwhelmed. She glared at him momentarily then reached back around her neck and took off her necklace. Come to think of it, she always wore that, he thought absently. A silver circle with a triple moon pattern worked into it and a black stone set in the middle, hanging by a thick black string. She grabbed his hand and made his fist close around it.

"Here. Some insurance," she said. "My…dad made it for my mom. You wanna be sure I'll come back, then you hold onto it. When I come back…you better still have it. Or I'll punch your teeth out. Got it?" she went on, sharply.

Dante startled, staring at the trinket in his hand and at her. "Wait, wha—no, wait, you can't gimmie something this important—"

"Shut up and take it. Keep it with you. I'll be… I'll be fine without it," Tess muttered.

His fist closed around it tight; it was warm from resting against her skin for so long and he wished it could keep that warmth forever but he knew it in his gut it would also hurt to hold onto it. He nodded silently and realized he never did appreciate how green her eyes were. He wouldn't see them again.

"Look at you, crying already. Don't do that," she said softly, reaching up and wiping some tears gently. "Isn't it enough that I'm crying?"

Dante jolted a bit as she did that. "I'm not crying—" he protested. "Demons don't cry."

"Yeah, neither do witches," she replied weakly.

Roy grunted and Dante saw him wiping his eye. "I'm…going to miss you too, son."

"Me too, old man," Dante muttered.

"Listen, I know you don't want to hear it but I have some advice."

Dante grunted. "C'mon, not now—"

"No, no, this is for your thick skull," the djinn grunted and actually plopped his hand on Dante's head. "I know how you feel about your demonic side. But I think… the more you avoid facing it, the harder it will be for you. I have faith that you'll find a way to sort it out. You're far more human than some people I've met – and I've known many. You… you know regret. As hard as it is, it keeps you grounded."

Roy ruffled Dante's hair gently and then put his hands in his pockets. "Keep your head together, going forward. I hope to see you again and when I do, I'm going to be expecting to see something impressive, alright? No screwing up."

Dante chuckled tiredly. "You got it old man. I guess I should thank you for the talks. Don't get killed. How about some fucking privacy now?"

Roy blinked at him, then barked out a laugh and smacked Dante's shoulder affectionately. He nodded.

"I'll wait at the corner. Don't start making out too hard," he scoffed and walked away, unwinding the bandage around his head to redress it.

"Fuck off…" Dante mumbled.

Tess snorted quietly.

Dante glanced around warily for a moment at the empty street. He could hear the tentative chirps of birds and the beginning of a lazy morning bustle in the city.

"Listen, Tess… I'm not good with, uh, this stuff," he said. "I think you're really scary when you mean it and, uh, I'm gonna miss you so I—"

She reached up on her toes, put her hands on the sides of his face to draw him down and kissed him, silencing him in the most acceptable way he could think of. It was… different than their kisses so far. She pressed her lips on the side of his mouth, as if she wasn't sure whether to kiss his cheek or his lips. Then she pulled back, like a quiet butterfly and paused on his lips. It was soft but weighted down by that bitter-sweet sense of impending separation. Their foreheads touched.

"You don't need to say it," she said with a smile. "You're really not good at mushy talk."

He frowned. "…You're cruel, Twig. How can I forget ya, now?"

She looked unbearably sad but trying to hold it together. "I'm sorry." Then she poked his stomach a bit. "Don't… overdo it with the pizza and ice creams. You'll be tubby by the time I get back," she chuckled.

He snorted. "And you better put some meat on those bones," he said, trying to sound teasing.

But it really was pointless. They couldn't laugh.

"I…I should go," she said weakly.

Dante clicked his tongue. "Right…"

"Dante… Do me a last favour. Turn now and walk away. I'll do too. Go back to the building. Your stuff should still be there. But please...walk away and don't look back. I don't… I don't want the last thing you remember of me is me leaving, ok?"

He grumbled a vague affirmative. He knew that if she hadn't asked, he might as well have spent the whole time watching her walk away and he wasn't certain he would've been able to keep his cool about that. She really did know what he was like.

There was no point in prolonging their agony. They mutually parted and he turned around.

"See you later, Twig," he muttered.

"See you around, Schnozz," she replied and he heard the scuffing of her shoes on the pavement. Her voice shook.

He started walking away, staring blankly ahead of him at the growing light of dawn as it crept over the city skyline. He had to force his stupid enhanced senses from trying to pick out the sounds that would've indicated when she was gone. But it happened anyway. He couldn't exactly put his finger on what tipped him off; it just happened. From one moment to the next he knew she was gone. Against her request, at the end of the block he whipped around and saw nothing but a perfectly empty street.

He swallowed down the jumble of feelings warring in him and went on his way. He felt himself walking, but his mind wasn't there. He was busy picking up the pieces. He failed to notice the silence had broken, the spell placed on the city coming apart. People were in the streets; sirens of police cars and fire engines were heading towards the still burning asylum. He scoffed a little at that. He just kept walking, his hands in his pockets. It was a solid half hour before he got back there, where it all had started.

The wrecked boarding house looked so lonely in the morning light when he stopped in front it. The neighbourhood hadn't yet noticed the devastation it'd suffered so he ought to be safe from prying eyes for now. He looked up at it. So many good memories, really. They actually outweighed the bad ones, even if the good ones still hurt already. He could see the window that had once been his own and if he craned his neck towards the alley between the boarding house and the next building over, the window that had been Tess' room. He looked away from it abruptly and trudged inside, feeling emptier than the building was.

He smirked a bit, finding his few belongings packed and ready to go, where Roy's counter had once stood. A note was pinned on his rucksack and he picked it up to read it; Roy's handwriting. He chuckled, reading the brief lines. Roy left him a bundle of cash and a threat about 'keeping his rear end out of trouble'.

"Typical Roy," he thought, reading it. "Always worrying about people, jeez. That cat's worse than a doting dad."

He was ready to go, really. He stuffed Rebellion in the guitar case once more, slung it over his back and then picked up the backpack, hauled it over his shoulder and absently looked back into the building. His thoughts wandered to the time he got here. He saw Roy sitting at the front desk, doing paperwork; Magda sailing morbidly through the hallway, indignant but accepting. Tess' gaze pierced his back from the front door as she leaned against it. Her sly, witty smile was taunting him.

That memory was safely hidden away, right where his mother's face, her smile and her tender humming was left.

The slayer hung his head with a small smile; he was pathetic, really. Her turned and then walked out the door and down the steps, quickly vanishing around the corner just as the first people made their appearance into the street, attracted by the building's damages. No one seemed to have noticed him.

It was funny. A demon that saved them walked among them and people never really noticed. He put his hand in his pocket.

Tess' necklace was still warm and he smiled. "Better bring me some luck, Twig," he thought, strolling down the street. "Now…where can a guy like me find a place to crash in and open a demon-huntin' business?"

THE END.