Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry, Capcom does. Nor will I make any money from this.

Springkink prompt – July 16 #12 - Devil May Cry, Sparda/Eva: Observation - "Save the last dance for me"


She always watches over their children. It's rare that she can do anything else, but she can at least be there for them.

She could not bear what Mundus did to Vergil any more than he could, but she is prouder of him than she ever has been of either of them when he drops his half of the amulet.

As the two halves of her vessel rejoin they are followed by the rejoining of the other half of her very soul (though in a mystical, not practical sense). Sparda is unsealed, he awakens.

Weak, so very weak: he can lend strength to Dante's blows but he cannot fight beside him or lend him his true power. If they had bodies to cry he would be crying now, and she does not answer when he asks Vergil's fate.

How strange, that she's the calm one and he the emotional. She's had a long time to get used to disappointment, to there being nothing she can do, of schooling herself to wait and watch for the moment there is something she can instead of going mad with frustration.

For him, asleep so long, the failure is new, the grief is new. He wishes he could have protected her, them, and she wishes she could hold him.

Wait, that is all she can tell him. Wait, and save your strength.

If Dante can defeat the others, and he will, then Mundus will face him in the final battle. Save your strength, and give it all to him then.

He did not believe he could give Dante the power he needed, she did not allow herself to believe he couldn't, and she is proven right.

Damn sentimental idiot!

This is the time to use her power, for the sake of this daughter not of her body. Trish is revived, and hurries.

She allows herself a smile when they have escaped the island, but the game is far from over. Vergil is still lost.

"You have changed," Sparda tells her.

"Banked coals burn longer," she replies, reminded of what Dante said was her fire.

She has grown cold, she thinks, because to rage against fate would exhaust her: she cannot afford the despair that comes after. She has tried to cultivate the inhuman patience that must have sustained Sparda through the centuries, and she wonders if he still loves this new her.

"But coals that still burn can give rise to an inferno," he answers, and she sees in his eyes that same admiration.

She should be overjoyed, she should be celebrating that he is back. But she cannot, while Vergil is still lost and her enemy still exists.

"We will dance on his grave, Milady," he tells her, and she knows he understands.