AN: Once again another one shot... It's kinda old... but it's all I've got right now. It contains a bit of OOCness with Nero and some light fluff between Dante and Nero.
To make up for how old this is I will be writing a PWP NxD one shot sooner or later, so expect to see that sometime.
Anywaysssss~ Enjoy reading this in the meantime. *Hugs you all~* Also I don't know why there's random numbers at the bottom... they don't seem to be going away.
"I'm sorry." The words slipped from his mouth, as he blinked back betraying tear. He wouldn't cry- no, that's not something that men do. At least not him, not at his age. His head was pounding, and ached with the guilt of from everything he had done wrong. He was a disaster, broken and destroyed; feeling completely unworthy of being whole again.
"Dante," the voice echoed in his head, "How many times do I have to tell you, there's nothing for you to apologize for." He lowered his head as the hand came towards him, pushing the bangs from his forehead. "It's normal to feel this way, you've been through a lot, but things will get better, they always do."
"Why does it rain on me?" His voice broke as he pushed his head into the comforting hand, searching for more, needing more of something, but unsure of what that something was. Dante was well aware that this day would come. The day when he would finally break and fall. Fall from the structure of security that he had built to protect himself from the hard cement that was his memories. Each one shattering him, splitting him to the core. His memories of his mother's murder, and the distance formed between himself and Vergil. How he had lost Vergil, his only family, due to Vergil's hunger for power and his inability to stop him. Up to the events that took place on Mallet island; how he was the one who unknowingly put an end to his brother's life.
"Why?" He whimpered, forcing his eyes closed fighting back the burning liquid that threatened to seep past his tightly woven eyelashes and desperately attempted to purge the memories from his consciousness. He felt the warm hand's touch leave his face and place itself along his back accompanied by another less human hand. Dante allowed himself to be taken into this embrace, though he knew he couldn't allow himself to look at the boy who had pulled him into it.
"We're all bound to get caught in a down pour every now and then, but that's life. There are ups and downs, and you can pull yourself through this. You'll make your way out of the rain, there's no such thing as a never ending storm," said Nero pressing his forehead against the older man's shoulder. "You're not alone in this, I just wish you would learn to let people in sometimes. It's frustrating when you're looking for the entrance, but keep running into these invisible walls." I wish it were that easy, kid. Dante thought as he brought his arms around the young man and rested his forearms against Nero's back.
"God, I'm such a fuck up."
"No, you're not." The boy said pulling the older man in closer. "I know you probably feel a little off because of how you're acting, but you're not a fuck up. It's normal to feel like how you do, and to act exactly how you're acting Dante. No one is judging you on that." Dante rested his head at the base of the boys neck, and finally allowed himself to fully relax for the first time since these emotions had overcome him. He found himself wishing he could show the kid his appreciation for being there for him when he thought he was alone but he knew that no matter what he said or did it wouldn't be enough, and even if he tried the kid, he knew, was too stubborn to even think about accepting it.
Nero felt Dante's body beneath him heave, and the whimpers from before replaced themselves with shallow breaths, and voiceless sobs. Never in his life did Nero ever expect to see the one man, who was still alive, whom he respected most break down like this. Nor did he expect to be the one who was comforting him like this. His jacket collar slowly became saturated with the warm tears that finally made their escape from behind Dante's eyelashes. The older man's body rocked gently in sync with the tears that flooded from his eyes and pooled on the boys shoulder. The two of them remained there, clung onto one another for a long time, neither of them speaking. Neither of them wanting to disturb the silence that had formed; for it was in that silence that they had found themselves become completely dependent on the others existence.
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