Dante shrugged off his coat, lazily and on autopilot hanging it back up. It had been a long day. It wasn’t that the job was hard, but there had been more demons to slaughter than Dante had expected. All he wanted was to clean the blood out of his hair in a nice long shower, and then to fall asleep until next week.
He was tugging off his gloves and contemplating within whether or not he would have enough water for a long shower. He couldn’t remember the precise date he’d last paid the bills on. It didn’t matter much if the electricity went out, though. He was going to sleep soon anyway.
Dante dumped the leather glove on his desk, damaged and bloodied, and started to undo the weapons wrapped around him. He had already set Rebellion to the side, but he had quite a few guns on him. This is when the door handle rattled, and Dante turned around with mild curiosity, expecting to see Morrison or maybe even Lady expecting a payment. Who he actually saw sent his heart sinking down deep like a stone in water.
“Dante?” She asked, pulling lightly at her pink raincoat. It had been pouring down all day, but by the looks of it Patty had made the trip regardless, and was suffering from the effects of the cold.
He was next to her in seconds, unwrapping the coat around her and taking it out of her hands. He hung it up next to his—his heart slightly tearing when he was reminded of the size difference between them, and how Patty was still so young and facing the world without him—and then he put his arm around Patty’s shoulders and guided her towards the heater.
He could feel Patty shiver in his half-embrace, and Dante made a mental note to search for his documents to make sure his electricity bill was paid up. If it went out now, he would never forgive himself. Patty’s long hair was soaked by the edges despite the raincoat. It seemed a little ill-fitting in size, making Dante wonder if Patty and her mother were struggling with the cost of living. He started to calculate exactly how much he could aside for them, to make sure Patty lived the best life he could give her.
Without him actually being there.
He knew that wasn’t much. It was nothing extravagant. But he wanted to help in anyway he could, to give Patty the best life. Mostly, he did that through distance: keeping the demons away from her.
It hurt him so much in this moment to see Patty. She smiled weakly up and him, sitting down next to the heater and half-hugging it with her body. The way he looked at her… despite the difference in eye colour, she looked just like Eva. Every time Dante saw her she looked more and more like his mother. The cruel irony of the world giving him a child to care for that looked just like his deceased mother was something he didn’t want to think about. He loved Patty. It didn’t matter that sometimes when he looked at her his heart shattered.
“…Why are you here, Patty?” Dante asked, adjusting to sit down next to her. He hoped the blood in his hair wasn’t disturbing her, and to her credit her gaze didn’t even linger on it.
Patty sighed heavily, averting her gaze. She sounded tired. “I missed you.”
Inside, Dante’s heart split in two. Patty was…like a daughter to him. Hearing her say that was breaking parts of him he thought were already long broken.
Dante reached out to push some stray locks of hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart, it’s pouring down. Didn’t you check the forecast?”
Dante tilted his head, inquisitively. “Why not?” He asked, trying to find Patty’s eyes, but she was determined not to look at him.
She shuffled, wrapping her arms around herself in a futile attempt to summon more warmth. Quietly, she whispered, “It’s June 15th.”
Dante paused, wondering why the hell that even mattered. He thought that maybe it was her birthday, but then remembered sending her out that card last month with an entire job’s paycheque tucked into the envelope. Then it hit him.
Dante didn’t have the date circled or memorised. He never did. There were times the truth was unavoidable, but most days Father’s Day was irrelevant and unknown to him. He didn’t have a dad. It didn’t matter to him.
Dante knew the implications of Patty’s words. Why she came here specifically. He hadn’t realised Patty returned his feelings of father and daughter, and this newfound knowledge brought a kind of warmth to his heart he hadn’t felt since Patty left.
Dante rose to his feet. “I have to give your mother a call. Let her know where you went.”He’d wager that, considering Patty was here alone, she’d made the journey without telling anyone. At least his little girl was in one piece. He didn’t want to picture her travelling alone to reach him. She didn’t exactly live too close by.
A couple hours passed. Dante called up the electric company to check his power would last. He made Patty hot chocolate and then he took a shower. When he came back downstairs in fresh clothes, Patty was wearing an old outfit she’d left behind here, warm and dry. She had a towel next to her which she had used to try her rain-dampened hair. She was snacking on Dante’s leftover pizza and drinking the remainder of her hot chocolate when he walked towards her and sat next to her on the sofa.
“Happy Father’s Day, Dante,” Patty said, sounding a bit unsure of herself. Her tone was almost a bit grim. Or sad. “I didn’t bring you anything. I didn’t know I was coming.”
He nodded. He understood that. In fact, if this dangerous little trip had been planned he would have been more upset, because Patty knew better than that.
“I can order dinner,” Dante said, pushing through the awkwardness. It was late, but some places would still be open.
Dante threw her a well-practised forced smirk. “Whatever you want, kiddo.”
He couldn’t properly explain why his cheeks felt weird with the expression. He didn’t smile often these days. He had with Lucia, but…she was gone now.
“Dante?” Patty asked, reaching for his arm as he moved to stand up to order the food.
He sat back down next to her, waiting for her to speak. Her blue eyes shone with sadness.
“Do you not want me anymore?”
Dante was taken aback. He flinched—violently—and his calm mask fell for one of pure shock and disbelief.
“Of course I do,” he insisted, moving Patty’s hand so it rested in his instead of it loosely holding his wrist.
“You haven’t called. You didn’t show up at my birthday. I never see you anymore.” Patty’s voice was small. Dante could understand why. He was familiar with the pain of not having a father. Of having him disappear at the age of eight.
Dante sighed softly. He wanted to hold himself back. To keep his distance. Just like he always did. But his daughter was hurting.
He reached out and smoothed out Patty’s hair. “Sweet girl,” he said. “Of course I want you in my life. It’s just…it’s complicated—“
Dante nodded. “Cause of the demons.”
A heavy silence overtook them. Dante’s gaze softened into something regretful, sad, as he looked at his daughter.
In another world…there was a Dante who got to raise her.
“But,” Patty whispered. It was barely audible, sounding like a low exhale. “I’ll always be your Patty, right?”
Dante paused. Then, he ruffled her hair playfully as Patty let out a louder protest. “Always.”
