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Five DARKCOM facilities broken into and one ransacked. All in the course of a week.
Baines stared at the reports on his screen, at the attached photos from the incidents, one in particular staring back at him like a taunt: big, red letters reading "ASSET MISSING" accompanied by a photo of a red and blue amulet.
Sparda's amulet.
Prior to the theft of the amulet, the perpetrator was unknown, since he'd had at least a little forethought to destroy the data servers at each location, destroying most of the data from cameras. Luckily, there were never any casualties of any DARKCOM personnel, only a few soldiers that needed to be put on leave to recover, and when questioned, they all said the attacker was disguised as a soldier like them.
But, he'd slipped up. With all DARKCOM facilities on high alert, the intruder had been sniffed out much faster than he'd likely anticipated. And though he'd made off with the amulet and had wrecked most of the facility in the process, they now had footage of him, of his face.
Baines turned to the other monitor on his desk, clicking a button on his keyboard to play the footage. What played out was utterly embarrassing for DARKCOM and it's soldiers: a single man, with long, golden hair, dressed up in what was no doubt a stolen soldier's uniform. He moved as a blur, wielding a massive, golden sword that any normal person would have to hold in a two-handed grip easily in one. Bullets were either side-stepped or deflected, and soldiers were easily dropped, non-lethally, though Baines could see a few twisted limbs and head blows that would no doubt cause concussions.
Then, in a stroke of sheer luck, a bullet struck the man's shoulder. Though he jerked with the force of it, the round did not detonate in his shoulder. Baines paused the footage.
It does not add up, Baines thinks. The way the man moves, despite his human appearance, is anything but. The hits he delivers, the speed at which he darts about the room, they all point to something inhuman. And yet, there seems to be nothing demonic about him, as evidenced by the anti-demon serum in the bullet not exploding the second it came into contact with his blood.
The last time that had happened, it was with a human infused with devil's blood.
Still, that did not feel… right.
The longer Baines looked at the now paused footage, at the intruder that was making a joke out of DARKCOM's men, something nagged at him. The golden hair, and the golden eyes that Baines can now see clearer, widened in shock as the bullet pierced through him…
Baines resumes the footage, and he sees the wound heal with a flash of gold light before the man continues his onslaught.
He's not human. He's not demon.
Reaching up, Baines clutches the silver cross hanging from his neck.
Cold…
Dante felt so, so cold. It was numbing to both his mind and body, and he felt… weightless, floating, and he just…. couldn't think straight, like his brain was fogged.
Where was he? What… what had happened…?
Where was—?
Lady—?
He should have known better—
A spark of anger shoots through Dante, tearing through the cold for a moment. He tried to grab onto it, hold it, let it warm him.
The heat of the betrayal slipped, and he was cold again.
Fuck, where was he?
Dante tried to move, but his limbs felt heavy and his head felt like it was full of lead…
But he could hear. He could hear, though whatever he was hearing was muffled, like he was under water.
Was that… gunshots?
Gunshots, metal clashing against metal, grunting — all sounds of a fight nearby. Dante felt his adrenaline kicking up, felt his blood sparking in his veins at the prospect of a fight, but he was still so, so cold, and his muscles refused to cooperate.
Then, a shattering sound pierced through his ears, through his head, the sound of rushing water overtaking everything—
He was falling, pitching forward, unable to move his arms, unable to catch himself—
He fell into something, something solid and absurdly warm, chasing away the chill that felt like it was deep in his bones, an arm wrapping around his back as he was lowered to the floor, pulling him sideways into a chest; he could hear a heartbeat in his ear, the rumbling of a voice saying something he couldn't quite hear yet… though it sounded familiar. Then he felt something unlatch from his face and his arms, and he realized he must've been restrained somehow.
Opening his blurry eyes, Dante tried to speak, but he felt some kind of liquid go down the wrong pipe and ended up choking, coughing, his eyes squeezing shut again. He was still so damn cold, shivering so hard his teeth rattled in his skull, his limbs still feeling heavy and numb.
"Easy, Dante," he heard above him. "Take it easy."
Dante was shifted for a moment, pulled away from that warm chest, and he almost whined as he felt the chill of the air before he was wrapped up in something equally warm, something that smelled like smoke and chocolate, and he was pulled in again, warm once more. He didn't even try to stop himself from nuzzling into the hold, now that he was damn sure of who this was.
Opening his eyes again, Dante was greeted by a pair of golden eyes looking down at him, bronze skin creased by a concerned expression framed by the few strips of shiny blonde hair that were left out of it's ponytail.
"Yuri…" Dante managed to choke out, finally getting one of his shaking hands to move, pulling it out of the large coat he was wrapped in and sluggishly raising it up to put it against Yuri's cheek. "Hey, hot stuff."
Yuri chuckled, a smile breaking through that worried look, and he raised his free hand up to cover Dante's.
"Hey, carissime."
Dante could have sworn he felt his whole nervous system flutter.
He tried to push himself to sit up, but he still felt heavy. Thankfully, Yuri helped him get into more of an upright position, rather than slumped over against Yuri's frame and getting his clothes all wet — same as usual: slacks, a button-up, and a vest, looking like he'd just got off work at his bar straight over to… wherever they were, though the long metal case that was strapped to his back stuck out. Deciding to ignore it for now, Dante took a moment to look around.
They were definitely in a lab of some kind, and the damn DARKCOM insignia on the wall and on several nearby cases told Dante all he needed to know. Nearby, maybe a yard away, was a massive glass tube, shattered with a little bit of water at the bottom, the remaining glass coated in a quickly melting layer of frost — he hadn't been in that, had he?
And tying the whole scene together was probably about fifty or so DARKCOM soldiers, some bleeding, some not, all of them unconscious and sprawled out on the floor.
"So, I take it I'm being rescued?"
"Something like that. Can you move your legs yet?"
Dante tried to stand — he really gave it a valiant effort, but his legs don't cooperate. He's still shivering, every single part of his body rattling.
"No, not yet."
"Not surprising. I didn't exactly have time to let you thaw out."
Dante scoffed, looking back at the still frosted over glass tube.
"What, did they just stick me in a freezer?"
"Cryostasis, and maybe a bit of sedation," Yuri replied. "Something new they're trying out apparently. Not only was it meant to keep you docile and unconscious, but it also kept you… fresh if DARKCOM ever needed you."
"Oh, gross. Never phrase anything like that again."
Yuri chuckled again, then Dante saw a look cross his face, his "oh I just remembered something" look.
"By the way," he said, reaching into the pocket of his vest. Dante's eyes widened as he pulled out a red and blue stone hanging from a leather cord.
"That's-!" Dante didn't even bother finishing his sentence before he was reaching for it, and Yuri let it drop into Dante's hand. He immediately held it close to his chest, holding it tight enough to feel the edges digging into his skin. Just to know it was real, not an illusion or something like that. He felt his throat tighten.
After a moment, he looked up at Yuri, taking a shaky breath, a grateful smile tugging at his mouth.
"Really goin' above and beyond, aren't you, babe?"
Yuri smiled back before he leaned forward, planting a warm kiss on Dante's forehead. He leaned into it, that knot in his throat tightening.
"You'd do the same for me," Yuri murmured against Dante's skin.
"Damn right I would." Dante croaked back. He took a second to clear his throat, blinking the mist from his eyes, before he pulled back. "So, how about we get outta here?"
"I was just thinking the same thing."
Dante was suddenly being hoisted off the ground; a yelp slipped out of him, and he threw an arm around Yuri's shoulders on instinct, his other hand — still clutching his amulet — held close to his chest. After he was sure he wouldn't go tumbling out of Yuri's bridal carry, he chuckled.
"My knight in dress slacks," he purred, before slipping his amulet on his neck so that he could properly wrap his arms arms around Yuri's neck. "Alright, let's get going."
After pulling Dante just a bit closer to himself, Yuri took off like a bullet. He halls off the DARKCOM facility were a blur of gray and white, and Dante almost couldn't tell where they were going, aside from the fact that they were going up. The roof, no doubt. Whatever DARKCOM soldiers they encountered on the way were simply jumped over and avoided. And Dante couldn't help but laugh the whole way, his blood finally pumping and starting to warm him up from the adrenaline rush.
When they finally burst out onto the roof, it was to a golden, cloudless sky, the sun just beginning to dip below the city's skyline…
And to an entire battalion of DARKCOM soldiers, their guns all trained on them, with one Vice President at the center of it, standing next to the helicopter he'd no doubt arrived in. Standing beside him was Lady, her face turned towards them but clearly avoiding looking at him, and Dante felt his blood boiling again.
Yuri sighed, looking more inconvenienced than anything, though his grip on Dante tightened a hair.
"Well," Baines started, voice raised to be heard over the wind whipping across the roof, "It's a pleasure to finally meet the man who's been making a mess of DARKCOM's work."
Yuri's eyebrows scrunched together more, his golden eyes flicking up and down, giving the man a once over.
"Can't say the same, Mr. Vice President," Yuri replied. Baines hums.
"A shame, Mr. D'Angelis."
Dante feels himself bristle on instinct, not liking the implication of Baines saying Yuri's last name so casually, like some interesting fun fact he read somewhere. The only thing that tamps down the feeling is Yuri's lack of reaction, reminding him that it doesn't matter if Baines knows Yuri's name. It's not enough information. It's not real information.
"'Yuri' is fine," is the blonde's response, quick and to the point. "Now, I'm in a bit of a rush, so I'd greatly appreciate if you call off your firing squad."
"I'm afraid I can't just let you leave. Not with two of the greatest threats to our national security. I'd also like to find out how exactly you were able to break into so many of our facilities and get out alive."
"And if I'm not willing to share?"
"Then there are other, more invasive ways of finding out."
A growl ripped it's way out of Dante's throat against his will, and he felt his own hold around Yuri's neck tightening as he bared his teeth.
"You're not laying a hand on him," Dante hissed, even if a part of him called his own bluff. Though he could feel himself warming up and he could feel something prickling under his skin, he still felt sluggish, not to mention he didn't have any of his weapons with him. Unless he could figure out how to Devil Trigger on command in the next minute or two…
In return, Yuri's hold shifts, and Dante feels the heat coming from the blonde spike.
"I'll have to agree with Dante on that one," Yuri says, "Besides, I'm sure you can figure it out yourself. I'm not exactly subtle about it." A beat. "Or, are you just looking for confirmation?"
The shift in Baines' expression, in the way he holds himself after the words are spoken, is enough confirmation for both Dante and Yuri.
"Well, if you already know, then there has to be something else you want," Yuri adds. "Something else you need to know."
"What I need to know is why," Baines responds without hesitation. "Why an emissary from God would aid a devil."
Yuri sighs, and Dante can see that "not this shit again" expression cross his face. Any other time, Dante might have chuckled at it. But right now, the fact that Baines knew, that he was aware of what Yuri was — it was sending him into a protective state. He'd been on the wrong end of DARKCOM wanting to know more about him. He did not want the same happening to Yuri.
He had to remind his overactive brain that Yuri could take care of himself, that it was Yuri currently saving him. He tried to not acknowledge the helpless feeling in his chest.
"You understand nothing." Yuri's voice is so low that If Dante wasn't pressed against him, he wouldn't have heard him. Baines clearly didn't hear him, though he can tell he said something, as evidenced by one of his eyebrows raising.
"What was that?"
"I said you understand nothing," Yuri replied, louder. "You're a man blinded by his beliefs and some book written by men just like you. I won't explain myself to you, because you won't understand. You'll refuse to."
Before Baines can say anything back, Yuri's hold shifts once more, moving to hold Dante in one arm; in a burst of embers, a massive gladius of gold appeared in his now freed hand. With a single broad swipe, a fiery wave swept out.
Dante watched all the DARKCOM soldiers duck down, dropping to the ground to avoid being burnt, and Lady drag Baines to the floor with her. The fuselage of the helicopter behind them warped and bent, glowing a molten orange as it melted.
The sword vanished the same way it appeared, and Yuri's hold became tight once more, both arms holding Dante close. He feels a burst of almost scalding heat, instinctively turning his face away from it, and when he looks back, he finds himself mesmerized.
No matter how many times he sees Yuri's wings, Dante never tires of the sight — the golden feathers reflect the light of the setting sun, causing all three pairs to glow. The small pair that usually frames Yuri's face are flared out, a sign of the blond's agitation.
Knowing what was about to happen, Dante's arms wrap as tight as they can around Yuri's neck and he pressed his face into his vest. Dante's stomach drops with the initial take off, and he knows damn well the force of Yuri's wing-beat knocked some of DARKCOM's agents on their asses.
Baines' order to shoot them out of the sky, as well as the following gunfire, was lost in the sound of the wind in Dante's ears, and given how Yuri stayed airborne, not a single shot hit.
Once Yuri was no longer avoiding gunshots and his flight stays level, Dante lifted his head up. They're far up over the city, far enough that the air should be freezing, but the blond's warmth staved it off entirely, the borrowed cocoon of the coat better than any blanket.
The sun had mostly dipped below the horizon by now, the last slivers of orange bleeding into purple, and with it, Dante's energy seemed to slip. Whatever adrenaline that had kept him alert was draining, and he was pretty sure being frozen and sedated for… for however long DARKCOM had him didn't count as real rest. His head dipped, catching Yuri's attention.
"Hey," he says softly, "Get some rest. You look exhausted."
"Nah," Dante says immediately, though his next words are said through a yawn, "I just woke up. 'M fine."
"Uh-huh. It's alright, Dante. You can rest."
The words, and the soft tone in which Yuri says them, did little to stave off the sleepiness that threatened to overtake him. Huffing, Dante adjusts himself in Yuri's hold, the blond being extra careful not to drop him, then he buries his face in Yuri's neck.
"Fine. But just for a few minutes, got it?"
"Got it."
"I'm serious, Yuri. Only like… ten minutes."
"Okay."
"I mean it."
"I know you do."
A beat of silence passes.
"… Love you, Yuri."
"I love you too, Dante."