Music Challenge
Title: The Things Time Cannot Erase
Fandom: Devil May Cry 4
Theme Song: Evanescence - My Immortal
Characters: Dante, Nero
Pairing: Dante/Nero
Two hundred fifty six days was his limit. It wasn't something Nero had decided, it was just how it was. His breaking point; two hundred fifty six days; that was more than eight months. The morning of the day after, he had packet his stuff, stolen Dante's motorcycle and was on his way. Where to? He had no idea. He needed answers, and he wouldn't find them here.
Eight and a half months ago, Dante had told him about a job. He had made it sound simple. Just a job, he had said. What he hadn't said was that this job included a one way ticket for a trip to hell. What he hadn't said was that there was no payment involved, that there was no client, no nothing. To put it simply: Dante had lied to him. Nero hadn't known back then. His partner, in business and life, had left that for him to find out. What had he been thinking? Or maybe, he hadn't been thinking at all; that would explain a lot. Angrily, Nero shifted into fifth gear. The wind tore at his hair, made him feel the chills. But that was okay; he liked it more than the heat he felt when he started to cry.
He had spend the day on the road, only stopping for gas and a short break, and now his body felt sore. He wasn't used to traveling like this. Maybe he should have stolen Dante's car instead. It wasn't like the older hunter would need either vehicle where he was now. He would get used to it, Nero decided. No need for more regrets now. He pulled his sleeping bag from his luggage and threw it on the ground. Anywhere would be fine. He was in the middle of nowhere after all. It didn't matter. Maybe someone else would be worried to travel like this; there were stories about things that could happen on the road if you were all alone, but Nero just smirked. He was sure to be the most dangerous devil out here. Let them come. In fact, yes, let them come to him, all of them. He could use a good fight right now. With Red Queen in reach and Blue Rose under his sleeping bag, right next to his left hand, the young man fell asleep.
"New job, old man?" Nero sat down on the polished surface of Dante's desk, bracing his hands behind him. His lover was sitting at his usual place, nose buried inside some old, dusty tomes, instead of a magazine for once. That was unusual. Nero took a look over his shoulder, but couldn't read anything. Latin, he concluded; an old text and drawings of demonic runes and circles. Dante seemed to absorbed to notice him, but then he gave a short nod and an affirming sound. "What's that all about?" Hidden below the books lay a few photos. Nero pulled one of them out and frowned. It was a shot of a crime scene. There were similar signs and circles painted in red on a wall. Vandalism? He scratched the side of his nose. "That blood?" he wondered out loud and received another nod from his partner. "Huh, figures." He wasn't too impressed by this. So someone had found some old books and decided to play demon summoning. – Or maybe it hadn't been just an idiot but indeed a demon who tried to open a passage for an even uglier one. Big deal. If anything, it meant more business for them. – Hopefully so; they were running low on cash this month.
Dante sighed and leaned back, hand brushing some silvery locks from his face. He closed the first book and took another. Things didn't seem to go so smoothly. There were some frown lines between the older hunter's eyes. "Anything you want me to do?" Nero wanted to know. Dante shook his head.
"I got this," he assured his younger partner and started to skim through the next text.
The morning was cold and Nero suppressed a shiver as he freed himself from his sleeping bag. Time to hit the road again to find a place to get some breakfast. The machine under him stirred to life almost purring. Back on the road, Nero held back a yawn. Still not fully awake, he felt the cold even more and started grumbling. He wasn't a morning person to begin with. He had advised whoever had the dubious pleasure to share a room with him over night, not to talk to him in the morning before he had his first coffee. Nero was a coffee person. He needed the first cup in the morning to feel like a human being, the second to gain back his overnight vanished talking skills and the third to brace himself for anything the day could send his way. Right now, he was still his moody, grumbling, not ready for any social interaction self. A few miles later, a slowly twisting sign of a small diner got his attention. It would be his first stop of the day.
"Good Morning. What can I get you?" The women who greeted him was a middle age, plain, unmemorable lady in a white and blue striped shirt with the diner's name embroidered on the chest, right above her name tag. Sherley Kin-something. He didn't care; it didn't matter. At least she didn't call him any silly names. The last guy he had met at the gas station had called him son. Nero was no one's son. If he had known, who his so called father was, he had a piece of mind to share with him.
"Coffee," he grunted and threw a look over his shoulder. There were only two half-asleep men near one of the windows, who hadn't even bothered to look up upon his arrival.
"Anything else?" The sound of porcelain and liquid brought Nero's attention back.
"No." It was way too soon for his first 'thank you' today, but she didn't seem to mind anyway.
"Let me know if you change your mind." Her shoes made a squeaking sound as she turned around and left. It was probably a good time to take a look at the old map he had found back at the shop. Nero had grabbed it absentmindedly on his way out, something he was kind of thankful for now. Being a kid from Fortuna, he never had the chance to see much of the world. In fact, his only trip outside the Fortuna's borders had been his journey to Capulet to move in with Dante. So, a map, no matter how old, would probably be a good idea to figure out where he wanted to go. It was somewhere in his old duffle bag, buried under clothes and one or two books. He hadn't taken a lot with him to begin with. Luggage would just slow him down.
As he went through his bag, the first thing he got hold of was the cold and smooth barrel of a gun. Not Blue Rose; this was a single barrel of a M1911 but it was not in the least less powerful than his revolver. This was Ivory, his partner's trustworthy and beloved right-handed semi-automatic gun. Or maybe it wasn't Dante's anymore. He didn't know for sure. Two months ago, someone had brought it back to the shop. Nero hadn't seen who had delivered the gun. It had been late at night; he had been already asleep, as his Devil Bringer's reaction to a close by demon had woke him up. By the time he had been up and down the stairs, the demon was already gone. The faint smell of sulfur had lingered behind and there it was the white gun. It had lain in front of the double doors of the shop and clearly the weapon had seen better days. Ivory had been covered it dark grime all over and the handle was charred. Nero had picked the gun up in bewilderment, before he had run a few steps to follow whoever had taken the delivery upon himself, but he couldn't find anyone close by. "Hey!" he had screamed. "Hey, come back!" There had been no answer.
He took the gun und stuffed it back, shoved it between two shirts so he wouldn't have to look at it. He had spent hours hunting ghosts and rumors to figure out how Ivory had found it's way back but in the end, he had found nothing. He had enough of it. Dante was gone, had left him behind. Time to face the facts. That was, after all, the purpose of his journey.
Two men came into the diner. Nero heard the door behind him open and close. He didn't turn around, he didn't have to. They chose the place behind him and ordered their breakfast. He didn't listen, he just waited, keeping his right arm hidden under the table as it started to glow more intense. Nero rolled the sleeve of his coat back down and finished his coffee. The map was forgotten, so was breakfast.
Only three people beside him in the diner; the lady, who would most likely come back to him any minute to check if he had changed his mind and these two guys. Normally, Nero was no one who would pick a fight without reason. Maybe he would provoke one with that loud mouth he had. He had never been good at keeping it shut. He also knew, that not every demon meant danger for the people around. Some were just trying to live among humans without being a threat. Many of them were drifters. There was a good chance that those two behind him fell into that category. Yet, Nero didn't care. Lately, he had been more short tempered than ever and every demon who had crossed his path was dead.
As predicted, the waitress came back and asked him, if she could bring him something else. He forced a friendly smile on his lips and ordered something to eat. He didn't pay much attention to what he actually ordered. He named the first thing that was on the menu. She smiled back at him, cheerfully, happy that this young, lonely man, who wasn't much older as a boy really, had changed his mind. "Coming right up," she promised him and went back behind the counter, only to vanish into the kitchen behind it. That was all Nero had wanted.
He turned around in his seat to cast a look at the two men behind him. If he didn't know any better, he would have seen two bikers who where on the road, just like he was. But his Devil Bringer knew better. "What's up, kid? What are you lookin' at?" The man across the table leaned back and watched him quizzically. It caused his partner to turn around too.
"Nothing, really. Just two demon scumbags who ruin my appetite first thing in the morning," Nero answered. And there they were; the telltale signs. Some twitching, some low hissing, some hasty glances. The tension grew and the guy across the table snapped first. His face contorted into a grimace, more feral than human and claws ripped through his leather gloves. His partner wanted to say something, but Nero was faster. His Devil Bringer took hold of the demon next to him, as his left hand reached for Blue Rose and aimed her at the demon across the table. The gunshot mixed with the background music and was joined by a high screech, as claws ripped into demon skin and snapped the neck like a straw.
A few seconds later, the waitress came running back and looked fearful around. "What happened?" she asked nervously. "I heard a shot!" Guns in this region were no rarity. Yet, she found nothing as gruesome as a corpse. The young man was still sitting at his table as if nothing had happened and turned around to look at her. He just shrugged.
"These two guys went off. Didn't even pay for the coffee but left this mess." He gestured across to the deserted table. She took a step closer and gasped. There was no blood, just two piles of dust.
"What on earth? Why would they do that?" she asked angrily. Nero just shrugged again and leaned back, waiting for his breakfast.
It seemed like another long day on the road. Ignoring the few signs that informed the young man of towns close by, Nero kept driving. He didn't feel like company right now. He was lost in thoughts and if that happened, he'd rather be alone. Anger would make him short tempered and anger would come, as soon as he thought about the last few weeks he had shared with Dante. The long, empty road was the right place for that. No one would judge him here, no one would see him. And the memories would come like uninvited guests.
The first time he had seen Dante cry had come as a shock. It wasn't that he had thought it impossible but the older hunter had always his carefree smile on his lips, had never failed to joke around in a grim situation, that the thought of Dante crying had never crossed Nero's mind before. It had been late at night and he had already gone to bed, tired after a long day of demon hunting that had left him drenched in gore and the smell of blood and gun powder. Dante had stayed behind alone in his office, seemingly dozing behind his desk with a magazine covering his face, like he had been so many times before. All he had given as a reply to the younger's gruff announcement to go to bed had been a short lift of a hand. For Nero, that had been enough.
Thirst had brought the younger man downstairs again. Still half asleep, he had made his way down into the office again, not really surprised to find his partner still at his desk. Dante had been sitting there, with his elbows on the polished surface and a lowered head, face hidden behind white hair. Something had been odd. Nero hadn't been able to figure it out right away. His brain had still been slow, half asleep even and he wanted to keep it that way or he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep right away. So he had ignored the feeling and made his way into the small kitchen. Two glasses of water later, his thirst had been forgotten and made room for other things for his mind to focus on. Inevitably his thoughts went back to the silent man behind the desk. Silent, something wasn't right about that. It wasn't like Dante couldn't keep his mouth shut. He could, if he wanted to. That hadn't been what he had noticed earlier. The young hunter had put the empty glass down and raked his claws through his ruffled hair. There had been something his senses had picked up. Still not quite awake Nero had leaned inside the doorframe and looked at his partner again. Drifting back more and more into analyzing mode, his brain had finally processed the information. Dante's breathing had been odd. Now, once again, as he could feel the younger's eyes on him, Dante had forced his breathing to slow down and kept his face hidden even though the room was almost dark.
"You okay?" Nero had disrupted the silence. His partner just gave a short nod. "You sure?" he had asked again. Something had been wrong here. Again, Dante was nodding, dismissing it. "You used to be a better liar." Nothing this time. Sighing, Nero had left his spot by the doorway and made his way over to the desk. "Dan..." His tongue had stopped working at that point, his eyes had been fixed on the silver streaks, running down pale cheeks in front of him. Questions assaulted his brain but he knew they would remain unanswered. To some people, tears could do that. Nero was one of them, they made him shut up. He hated seeing others cry. All he had done that night had been staying at Dante's side, silent.
From there on, Nero had been more suspicious. He had kept a constant eye on his seemingly carefree partner, who had never lost a word about what had happened that night in the office. If Dante didn't want to talk about it, Nero had figured, the older hunter could deal with the problem himself. Yet, there had been other signs that something wasn't right. Since the new job had started to preoccupy Dante's mind, he became more and more absent minded. The sight of his partner buried in old books and texts written in languages, Nero couldn't even name, had needed some getting used to.
Night chased away daylight faster than Nero had predicted. He had stopped for gas a while ago and would soon need to repeat that, if he didn't want to continue his journey on foot. But his shoulders felt sore and he was getting tired, so the young hunter decided to call it a day and stopped. There was no city or town close by and he didn't feel like searching right now, so the sleeping bag would have to suffice once more. Tomorrow, a cheap Motel would be in order. His pale hair felt greasy and kept falling into his eyes, his usually smooth skin needed shaving, which, thank god, was not often the case and his keen nose made him feel somewhat disgusted with himself. He was a man, Nero reminded himself to chase off some of those negligible urges. It could wait.
Placing the sleeping bag right next to his bike, the hunter got rid of his coat and hoody and placed Blue Rose underneath to be prepared for unpleasant surprises. Part of him wished that some careless demon would creep up to him in his sleep and try to get him. It certainly would help him to blow off some steam. Ivory was in one of Dante's holsters behind his back. It may not have been the most comfortable position but Nero didn't dare to put the gun away in his sleep. He couldn't afford to lose it.
It seemed his wish had been granted, as Nero woke up to the trembling feeling in his Devil Bringer. His right arm was glowing, warning him of a nearing demon. Nero kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep and listened. Footsteps, whatever was out there, it had the shape of a human, a human with heavy boots, and it wasn't moving very carefully. Overconfident bastard, Nero's mind hissed. His left hand closed around Blue Rose but he didn't open his eyes yet. He waited and the demon kept coming closer. It stopped only a few steps away from him, like it was waiting for a response. Being no one to disappoint, Nero sat up and aimed his gun – and froze. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him, his mouth opened to form words, his brain hadn't even come up with yet and no sound came across his lips. In front of him, looking down at him, was Dante, grinning his usual cocky bastard grin and was clearly more than pleased to see Nero's shocked face. The older man was a mess. His clothes were torn and charred, his hair was almost as Nero's bed head and he obviously hadn't shaved in the last few days. Rebellion was on his back and he had spotted Ebony.
"Hey, kid." Dante was about to crouched down next to the younger hunter but Nero detangled himself from the sleeping bag and rose instead. His right hand formed a glowing fist and connected heavily with Dante's cheek.
"Where the hell have you been?" the younger hunter wanted to know angrily. He took hold of Dante's tattered red coat with his Devil Bringer and pulled the man close. "You asshole! Where have you been?" How dare he show up like this, as if nothing happened? Then why did he have to leave him behind in the first place? Why had he been lying?
"Calm down, kid. Everything is gonna be okay now. I promise." Dante held his hands between them in a placating gesture. "I'm back now."
"Yeah? And who do you think cares? Do you know how long I had been waiting for you? You selfish prick!" Nero wouldn't let Dante get away with this so easily. The man could try to sweet talk himself out of this; It wouldn't work. "Eight fucking months without a word!" At that, Dante cringed slightly and found his best apologetic look.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, kid. You see, time works a bit differently down there. I kind of… lost track of it. – But that's why I sent you the message. Didn't you get it?"
"You mean this?" Nero grabbed Ivory from behind his back and pressed the barrel to Dante's chest. "I thought you were dead! What kind of message was that? Leaving me your totally messed up gun in front of the door! What was I supposed to think?"
"Aaww, look what happened to my gun," Dante whined. At that, Nero snapped and pulled the trigger. The shot echoed across the empty fields, with no one else around to notice. To his disappointment, Dante didn't even flinch. He just stood there, with a soft smile on his lips and took the gun from Nero's trembling hand. Trembling with anger, the ex-knight told himself, but he knew that was only half of it. "I see you took care of it," Dante said and took the double-stack magazine out. "Damn it. I left a note for you in here. Figured I had to put it somewhere protected, since a simple letter wouldn't survive the trip back from hell. Seems like even my gun barely made it back in one piece." He slid the magazine back in place. "I'm sorry, kid."
"That's all you have to say?" Nero was still furious. So Dante had tried to contact him. So Dante had no intention to leave him behind for all this time. That may have sounded good, but it didn't change the fact that it happened. He wanted to take the gun back from the older hunter; take Ivory and empty the whole magazine into the older man. But he didn't. He just stood there, gritting his teeth, waiting; waiting for Dante to act first. Instead of talking, the older man did the only thing he could in this kind of situation. Smiling gently, he put his arms around Nero and pulled him into a tight embrace. Nero wanted to push him away but didn't. He wanted to protest but couldn't. Dante was back – finally. He had made it through hell and back and was standing in front of him. What a fool he would be to push the man away now, instead of making sure he wouldn't leave again? So all he did was relax into the embrace and rest his forehead against Dante's shoulder.
"I'm back," Dante said and all Nero did was nod. Grinning again, Dante embraced his partner even tighter. "Damn, kid, you reek, you know that?" he teased to lighten the mood. The response was instant and very Nero like. The young man started to free himself and would have most likely punched the older man's face again, if Dante hadn't acted first and pressed his lips to Nero's. The ex-knight's angered outburst was reduced to a furious growl but Nero didn't move away and instead deepened the kiss. He rather attacked and bit at Dante's lower lip, while his hands clawed at the older man's back.
As they both pulled away, Dante still had his self pleased smile on his lips. "You stole my bike," he accused his partner.
"It wasn't like you needed it, jackass," Nero shot back and glanced back at the road not far away. While his Devil Bringer never failed to wake him, Dante's nearing car had. The red convertable stood beside the road.
"Where were you going anyway? Hate to be the bearer of bad news but Fortuna is the other way," Dante said and pointed south.
"I wasn't going there," the ex-knight explained grimly. Dante seemed glad to hear that.
"So, that means you are coming back home?" Nero would but there was no reason to make it so easy for the older man. He didn't answer first and let Dante wait. "You are coming back, right?"
"Depends. Is someone waiting for us there?" The outcome of Dante's trip to hell was still unknown to the younger half-devil. He had to know first. No more lies, no sugar-coating the facts.
"You mean Vergil?" Dante laughed somewhat halfhearted. "No. He isn't the playing happy family kind of guy, you know? He rarely sticks around. I doubt you'll see him very often." The way he said that told Nero, that Dante wasn't all happy about it. Whatever was between those twin brothers, it seemed complicated and Nero wasn't so sure if he wanted to be part of that. Sighing, the younger man let his shoulders fall.
"Let's go home," was all he said then before he turned around to gather his things.