Out of These Hands

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Buffy/Devil May Cry/Resident Evil/Background NCIS Crossover (though this one is mostly DMC)
Chapter Summary: It might be secondhand, but it's even more specific information than they'd had.  Dante and Lady have been fighting these cultists for a while now and are still itching for violence, though, because everything they learn sounds worse and worse.
Word Count: 1594
Rating: Teen

         If finding a lead from Trish was unexpected, the next place they get a lead is a complete surprise, because Dante cannot recall, not once in his life, Enzo actually being useful. He prefers to work with Morrison, since the guy’s a lot more reliable, but he’s double-checking things with his contacts because the last time he sent Dante on a trip to Brazil for some zombie shooting, he’d arrived and found absolutely nothing. He still needs pizza money, though, so it’s worth checking in with even the least likely of sources.
         And then, of course, Enzo had overheard a single comment about the Slayer, and had stammered out something about “Nuh-uh, not getting involved.”
         “You know something?” Lady had asked, and he’d gotten that look of realization like he shouldn’t have opened his big mouth.
         He’s now staring nervously at Lady, who has a warning hand on one of her guns. This is smart, in the half-devil’s opinion. Lady is far scarier than any son of Sparda will ever be. “You people are as bad for my health as that Bayonetta chick, I’ll tell you what. Look, if you’d heard half the things I have, terrible things, you’d keep out.”
         “We can’t all be as sensible as you. You tell us what we want to know, we’ll be out of your hair,” Dante responds reasonably. It’s not like he particularly wants to be here talking to the informant either; the man’s a little weasel and greedy beyond belief, but his information, when he’s got it, is good.
         Enzo glances between the two of them warily, but when it’s obvious they’re planning on camping out and not leaving him alone until he tells them, he gives in. Because Dante’d had to sit through a dinner with Enzo’s family once, and that was painful for everyone involved. Except maybe the wife. She’d insisted on stuffing him full, calling him a scrawny thing. That’d been more surreal than even going to the Underworld. At least there, things made a twisted kind of sense.
         Enzo does like telling a story, at least. Whether the story’s any good, that’s a completely different matter, but he does like sharing, and not because he’s just after a cut of...whatever. Although it’s an active question if they’re going to get paid for this job at all, and Lady’s worry is clear because she’s not even complaining about that. “All right, all right already, so I got this cousin Willy, used to own a bar, the kind we met in. He’s in the information business too, not as good as yours truly of course, but he makes a living. Used to be in this little town in California, until the ground swallowed it whole.”
         Lady leans in a little, at that point. “The one rumored to have a Gate of Hell?”
         Dante opens his mouth, but before he can say anything Lady stomps on his foot, causing him to whine instead. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s undignified and mean. ...Honestly, that means maybe he should have expected Lady to do it anyway, but still. And then she goes and answers his question anyway. “It’s closed. There’s no point in calling you in if it’s closed, particularly since it’s not some big slab of rock you can just destroy while showing off.”
         Enzo, sensibly, leans back, intimidated. “Yeah, that’s the one. All sorts of stories comin’ outta that place, I tell you what. More types doin’ demon experiments, cults, ghosts, and more demons than you could shake a stick at, and the Slayer’d taken out most of them. Worst of all, according to Willy, she’s taken out a Hell Goddess and the First.”
         It’s Lady’s turn to frown confused, but Dante’s fingers twitch as the mere mention of the name makes him want to have a sword in his hands, just in case, or maybe Ebony or Ivory. “And why didn’t someone call me in that time?” He really wants the world not to end; how else is he going to get his pizza and strawberry sundaes?
         Enzo shrugs unhappily. “Time we’d heard about it, far as we can tell, the dust already settled. Sure, I coulda told you about it then, but anything for you to actually do? Fuhgeddaboudit. But there’s some good news comin’ outta all that, too. Rumor also has it some of those Watchers got themselves offed, so if there’s a time to strike, it’s now.”
         Lady starts to turn, pretty sure they’ve got what they need, but Dante considers.
         All right, yeah, so if he mentions a possible relative, even if he says to keep it quiet Enzo is incapable of keeping his big yap shut, but on the other hand maybe that’s not the worst thing, either. If they can keep getting leads like this, it might be worth it. “Willy happen to mention a guy with white hair?”
         She’s staring at him, contemplative. At least she doesn’t stomp on his feet again.
         Enzo’s eyes widen, and he gapes for a moment or two, before remembering his voice. “I woulda mentioned that before if I’d thought—you gotta believe me…”
         And this is why Dante doesn’t like dealing with this particular information broker. “Don’t worry, I do. I’ll take that as a confirmation, shall I?”
         “You don’t think that’s your twin, do you?” Enzo gulps. And no, it’s not Verg; but he doesn’t actually have to confirm or deny that part. Of course, he doesn’t actually have to say anything, because the man answers his own question. “Wait, no, ‘course he isn’t, unless he lost an eye sometime since you saw him last.”
         That catches both their attentions. “Wait...he lost an eye and...ugh, I can’t believe I’m talking about this...it didn’t grow back or anything?” She sounds a little grossed out, and Dante can’t blame her; even if it did grow back and probably didn’t hurt as much as it would for a human, the thought of actually having to wait to get his eyesight back to its usual would have him climbing the walls, and it’s just...it reminds him uncomfortably of Agnus, because that monster probably did have notes about experiments like that, considering they were trying to make some sort of demon army and all. Dante feels a little guilty about that now, but there’s no way he could have known, and gleefully setting fire to the laboratory and destroying the scientist’s notes seemed like a good idea at the time. Who knew there might have been something useful in there, no matter how awful the method of obtaining that might have been?
         Enzo’s shaking his head, wide-eyed, probably thinking about—well, not similar things, obviously, but that had obviously never occurred to him, either. “Nah, far as I hear. Ended up in the hospital for the first time since he was a kid, so the nurses told a vamp who told Willy, and he was still wearing the eyepatch years later, from what Willy saw, though he kept his distance, ‘cause my cousin’s got a sense of self-preservation, he has.” He looks like he’s trying to come up with absolutely anything that might be useful. He might be greedy, and practically useless, and his bro might’ve dealt with years of torture that could’ve been avoided if he’d remembered this sooner, but however much he might like to hide it he does have a heart.
         Nero, he could see, seeing as the kid only had a quarter of dear ol’ dad’s blood, but, what, did they use magic or something? It seems unnatural, but he’s also going to do his best not to treat his bro like he’s inferior or he’s pitying him or…
         “Xander!” Enzo says suddenly, breaking Dante’s line of thought, and he exchanges a confused look with Lady. “Shoulda known he was related to you. Called himself Alexander Redgrave.  Didn’t you used to call yourself Redgrave?” That’s...definitely different, for sure. It doesn’t exactly match the whole theme, but then, of course it wouldn’t, if Dad hadn’t stuck around. The mom would’ve been the one naming the kid. But the fact that he’s using one of Dante’s old aliases?   Is that actually some sort of call for help?
         Lady’s hands are twitchy on her knife, and the devil hunter can’t blame her for that. “Do you think the Watchers could have kept him from healing?”
         Enzo looks decidedly unhappy. “Everyone’s said not to mess with them, between the Watchers’ magic and the Slayer as their attack dog. Kept a few vampires alive, so the story goes, but that’s rare.” So he’d come to the same conclusion, probably. Somehow. Even if it’d taken him longer. But then he has to go and continue. “Even went after a vampire brothel in town.”
         Dante growls. Maybe a human’s blood would have run cold; his is burning in his veins. He’s pretty sure he’s on the verge of a Trigger. Human or demon, those are the actions of a monster; it’s pretty much one of the only places where a vampire can get consistent consensual blood, and sex workers are people too. Vampire-shaped people, sure, but people nonetheless. Nevan would be furious.
         “Let us know if you hear anything else,” his friend suggests and steers him outside gently to somewhere he can have his breakdown in peace, Enzo making all sorts of promises he may or may not be able to keep. Or maybe more realistically, promises he may or may not decide to keep, given his reluctance to start with and the fact that his self-preservation is going to have a talk with his greed and sympathy in the cold light of day, with no one staring him down.