Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sade slowly approached them through the light spilling from the open doors. Her pure, snow-white dress almost glowed against the blood-soaked floor. Wet slaps came as she crushed human remains underfoot, each step echoed through the wrecked church.

She stopped a few steps away, looking at Viv kneeling next to Noah’s breathless body.

“What’s your voodoo chick doing here, Viv?” Dante scoffed, gripping his sword tighter.

But Vivian didn’t need to hear the answer from Sade herself. Her eyes fell on Noah. His lifeless, disfigured face was covered in ulcers and blood. Knowing it would come back to life any second now…

She knew why Sade came here. 

For him.

“She’s waiting for us to do her dirty work.”

Viv pushed herself upright, unable to look at the woman she had once called her mentor. 

“Wear him out so she can take him back. Am I right?”

Sade’s silence was the answer.

Noah gasped. His clouded gaze focused on the large patch of white in the room. Slowly, his mouth curled into a wide, delusional grin as he struggled to get up on his wobbly legs.

“You...” His foot slipped against the blood-slick floor, but he tried to drag his skinny body upright again. “You’re finally here...” 

He grabbed the knife from the floor and launched himself towards Sade with the last of his strength, screaming:

“I’ll kill you!”

Dante swung his sword, aiming to take out his legs, but Noah stumbled and crashed to the floor like a sack of shit. The knife clattered away, leaving him scrabbling for Sade’s ankles, his blood smearing across the white dress.

“I’ll kill you for what you’ve done to me! I’ll kill you! KILL YOU!”

He yelled, spiraling into a tantrum, growling as he tried to scratch Sade’s legs.

Vivian winced. Sharp claws tore free from their nail beds, leaving his fingers raw and bleeding. She'd seen it happen once in her vision. Watching it happen again made her stomach turn.

“Poor soul...” Sade knelt in front of Noah, cupping his hollow cheeks and stroking his lumpy head with awful, motherly tenderness. “You know it’s not true. Mundus made you this way long before we met.”

And with the same tenderness, she simply twisted his head around.

A sickening crack came from his neck, and Noah finally fell silent.

For a while.

“Now…” She straightened up. “We have some matters to discuss.”

Vivian gritted her teeth, finally glaring at Sade. Always so elegant and composed, always knowing what to do. Sade was everything she admired in a person. Now that she saw right through her, all those virtues had turned into vices.

“Discuss what?!” she snapped, throwing her hands toward the blood-soaked nave. “How you’re the reason all these people are dead? You didn’t do shit until it was too late!”

“Well, since you brought it up yourself…”

Dante stepped forward, gently nudging Vivian behind him.

His sword remained lowered, but his grip tightened around the hilt.

“I believe you owe us an explanation. And you’d better try harder this time. I’m not buying your bullshit again.”

Vivian touched his shoulder, searching his face for an explanation.

“What are you talking about?”

Oh. Right. She was passed out in the tub when Sade dropped her little revelation. But it wasn’t the best time for him to do Sade’s job.

He jerked his chin toward Viv over his shoulder.

“Come on. Tell her.”

A long pause hung between them.

Folasade lowered her face, clasping her dark hands against the white dress. 

The beads chimed in the silence, setting everyone on edge.

“People are… fragile,” she said at last. “They’re weak. I saw them pray and do good — and none got the help they asked for. All these gods—”

Dante frowned at the word, and Sade corrected herself.

“...demons we worship. They have forever. They stand beyond us with such power and knowledge, yet they still can’t fix the order of things.”

Her gaze fell on Noah, lying on the floor with his head twisted to the other side — a rotting, disfigured corpse, stuck in-between life and death.

“Sometimes…” Sympathy slipped into her expression. “...they can’t even fix themselves. But I can achieve what Mundus couldn’t. I can fix him. Fix us.”

That arrogance in Sade’s voice. He knew it all too well. His brother had been the same. He thought he could beat Mundus on his own. Thought he could prove himself better than their father. And where did it get him? In the grave.

But fucking up your own life was one thing. 

Getting innocent people killed because of your ambitions was another.

Dante’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the hilt harder. 

“I knew I should’ve shot you back there…”

“And what would it change?” Sade shrugged it off. “Eventually, we’re all going to die. Old age or illness… Homicide. But it doesn’t have to be this way.”

Sade opened her hands toward the carnage around them.

“They didn’t have to die. And your mother…” Her voice softened. “She could still be here. With you.”

Dante's jaw tightened.

He swung the sword up and leveled it at her throat.

“My brother didn’t deserve to die, but it was the only way to free him from Mundus’ eternal slavery.”

Noah moaned, coming back to life. His neck cracked as he tried to put his head in its place, confused about where he was, mumbling incoherent nonsense.

It was clear now — the feast made his body stronger and his mind clear, but after a few cycles of wrong rebirth, he fell back into the delirious state they'd first seen him in, back in the sewers.

He wasn’t a mindless puppet. He was much worse.

Whatever Mundus had done to him, it had broken the man beyond repair.

“Look at this man.” Dante jabbed his finger at him. “Look! Did he ask for this? Did this make him happy?”

Noah dragged himself upright onto his elbows, reaching out his shaky hand toward Sade, and forced the words out of his throat. 

“I'll be happy… when I let her eat the dirt… from my grave.”

“See?” Dante huffed, letting his hand fall loose. “Doesn't look so to me.”

Vivian stayed silent, thinking it over. 

Whatever they were arguing about, it didn’t matter. 

Noah, an immortal, broken being, had killed dozens of people today. He was dangerous to everyone around him, himself included. They couldn’t kill him. If they locked him away, just like Sade had before, it would only be a matter of time before he broke free and wrecked the whole city out of spite.

And if they let Sade have him and she actually succeeded? No one knew what would happen. To him. To everyone.

She stepped out of Dante's shadow.

“Why are you saying all this?”

Sade crossed her arms.

“We all know it’s a dead end. You can’t kill him. You can’t spend eternity guarding his cage. Send him to hell, and he’ll find a way back, just like he came here in the first place. It's inevitable.”

She thought this through, didn’t she? When things went sideways, instead of telling them outright, Sade let them learn the hard way. And now they were too exhausted to get in her way, let alone argue. The ends justify the means.

Damnit.

Vivian couldn’t help but let the sarcasm slip from her tongue.

“So you want to gain his immortality and carry this burden all by yourself? How noble of you. Let me guess — next comes ‘charity’, which really means selling eternal life to the richest prick who can afford it.”

Sade gave her the same disappointed look Richard had worn the night she decided to run away. A silent I wasn't raising you this way that made a lump rise in Vivian’s throat. 

“I save lives, Vivi,” she said. “I saved yours, too. More times than you can count.”

Her black eyes stayed locked on Vivian, never blinking.

“Do you even remember how many?”

Truth be told, she didn’t.

Every time Vivian went to Sade’s to get patched up after a failed mission, Sade took care of her. The salves she used, the money she spent…

“I’m not some villain craving world domination.” She put a hand on her heart. “I’m a healer. My purpose is to help those who need it. And people need me. You need me. To free you from this nightmare.”

Vivian pursed her lips. The offer was tempting, she had to admit. Just dump the demon, make him someone else’s problem, and never look back. It was the easiest solution by far, but…

She glanced at Dante, conflicted. He’d never take this risk.

And just like she expected, he took her hand, slightly squeezing her fingers.

“Forget it. I can keep an eye on him myself.”

“For how long? You're not getting any younger.” 

Sade tilted her head, her gaze drifting down to their interlaced fingers. 

“Are you planning to pass this burden on to your children? Just like your father left you to watch over the human world?”

Vivian felt his grip tighten around her hand.

A hoarse cackle broke the heavy silence.

Noah giggled from the floor like a madman. His mouth stretched so wide, it looked like his face had split in two.

“What’s so funny, asshole?” Dante glared at Noah, pointing his sword under his chin. “Can’t wait to get hacked in half? Or do you prefer to crawl back to Sade?”

Shaking his head, Noah pushed the sword away from his face and dragged himself to his feet, mumbling under his breath.

“You two are bickering over me… like a divorced couple.”

Vivian drew her gun from the holster on autopilot and took the safety off, her finger resting on the trigger. Ready to fire at any moment, she watched Noah closely. But he didn’t attack. He slowly scanned everyone in the room with his good eye, his hands raised in surrender.

“Don’t worry…” He flashed them a triumphant grin. “I have a solution.”

He turned his head at Sade over his shoulder, content with himself.

“You know you won’t have me.”

Then, he focused on Viv, holding him at gunpoint.

“And you… won’t get rid of me.”

He took a shaky step toward her. 

“Not in a million years!”

He lunged forward.

Dante’s sword immediately pierced his chest.

His hand shot out, grabbing the metal barrel and yanking it against his forehead.

A deafening bang rattled through the church, followed by a violent burst of energy.

Viv took a step back, rubbing her eyes, but when her vision cleared, a scream stuck in her throat.

The gun in her hand wasn’t hers anymore. The ‘Sunflower’, the only good thing she claimed from her father, now looked like a breathing piece of meat, moving under her touch.

She yelped, tossing it to the floor.

It plopped in the puddle of blood with a dull, fleshy sound.

On the barrel, in clumsy, fresh scratches, slowly appeared Noah’s last words. 

“I’ll be a flower on your grave.”

***

Vivian sat on the bench near the church, absently running her thumb over the rough grooves of the engraving. The golden shine had returned with the metal cold beneath her touch, but the letters were still there — a constant reminder of what her weapon became. She traced them slowly, trying to process everything that had happened.

After Noah turned into the Devil Arm, Sade didn’t say a word. Just turned around and walked away. Probably thought Viv had ruined years of hard work. All that, only to lose to the lunatic.

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, clasping her hands behind her head.

“What’s the matter?” Dante sat down beside her, giving her hunched back a few gentle pats. “It’s over. Getting a Devil Arm isn't the worst outcome.”

Viv huffed, shaking her head.

“It’s not about the gun.”

She reluctantly straightened up, looking toward the survivors being treated in the street. Dante followed her gaze, catching a glimpse of a familiar curly head. Wrapped in a foil blanket near the ambulance, Reggie waited for his turn. 

“Well, your neighbor is alive and kicking. Shocked, of course, but… seems pretty fine to me.” He shrugged and looked away, doing his best to keep the conversation light. “And, uh… I overheard one more thing. His grandma is at the hospital. Margaret, right?”

He nudged Viv with his elbow.

“Good thing the bastard kept them both alive.”

Vivian bit her lip, slipping her fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck.

“That's the worst part.”

If it weren’t for her, he would never have burst into that church.

They smelled like her. A simple hug had drawn that evil to them, and somehow became their protection. But what about everyone else who died there? People who had nothing to do with Vivian, and nothing to offer a madman consumed by revenge?

“Oh no, I know that face.” Dante leaned back against the bench, crossing one leg over the other, arm casually resting behind her. “Don’t tell me you picked up my bad habit.”

She chuckled. A small, tired smile touched her lips.

Viv leaned against his shoulder and sighed, letting herself relax for a moment.

“I guess I did.”

They watched the police clear the street. Christmas decorations swayed above the road. Soft snowflakes drifted down, covering the bloody footprints that led out of the church.

None of it felt real.

Vivian clutched the gun in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For judging you.”

Dante lazily looked down at her. Her brown hair was tangled and matted with sweat, small scratches crisscrossing her face. She nervously chewed on her lower lip, watching the police carry out the black body bags.

“Not so easy to be smart when you’re the one carrying the weight, huh?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. Now when I have my own graveyard, I just… don't know how to live with it.”

Without thinking, Dante reached over and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. 

“Don't ask me, doll,” he said, pressing his cheek against her temple. 

“I don't know either.”