A really old piece of mine, but I swear I had so much fun writing this back then. I don't own anything and I'm sorry if there are mistakes, but I'm not English.
Quite the new family member
Why wasn't this goddamn demon showing itself?!
He knew the demon was there, because he could feel its presence. But then – why the hell wasn't it showing itself already? How long had it been, since he entered this hell of a cave, walking in what seemed to be circles, over and over again, finding no traces at all but a faint smell of blood which, by the way, also led him nowhere? What kind of godforsaken cave was this anyway – a fucking labyrinth?!
Dante huffed in annoyance. The guy who had called, requesting the elimination of an "overly dangerous demon" in trade of a great deal of money, had sounded pretty eager to get rid of it. The devil hunter had accepted this mission because he had been looking forward to some serious demon-slaughtering, but it looked like his so-called target wasn't interested in a fight. Or at least, it had been running away from him for a whole while now, dragging him deeper and deeper into the darkness of this cave. Dante was thankful his overly sensitive senses made it possible for him to find a way through the dark stony galleries; otherwise he couldn't have possibly continued this quest.
A while later, Dante's stubbornness was rewarded. The presence of a demon was thick in the air, making the hairs on the back of the devil hunter's neck stand up as a clear sign of alarm. The scent of blood stung his nostrils and he inhaled deeply, taking in as much of it as he could. He carefully reached out for his guns, Ebony and Ivory, and freed them from their holsters.
'Time I kick your sorry ass, bud. You've had your fun playing hide and seek, now it's my turn to have fun playing a little Beat'em up – ROUND ONE, FIGHT!'
The devil hunter cocked his guns, a smirk of anticipation on his face. He walked around a corner to find himself in a cavernous room. There were cracks in the stony ceiling which allowed enough sunlight to break in and illuminate the surroundings. Water puddles glimmered playfully, while crystals shone in their full beauty, making Dante stop his motions for a second to admire the beautiful sight. Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention though, and he turned around, aiming with his guns, his fingers curling around the triggers, ready to shoot.
He sank them immediately after having discovered what had alerted him.
"Hey kid, the hell are you doing here? This is a very dangerous place!" he yelled loud enough for the child standing on the other side of the room to hear, regretting it instantly when it echoed a few times just as loud. He holstered his guns; feeling terrible for having almost shot down a poor kid. But come on - what the hell was this brat thinking, playing in a demon infested cave?!
The little boy didn't answer. Maybe he was afraid Dante would do something to him. The devil hunter stepped cautiously forward, but he stopped immediately when the child stumbled backwards, obviously scared by the young man approaching. It was difficult to recognize much from this distance, but Dante could see that the boy had white hair, which was pretty peculiar since he didn't know any other youth beside himself and his older twin-brother, who had that color of hair. He was short and alarmingly thin, his petite body covered only by a shirt which looked similar to a hospital gown. Were those blood-stains? Was he injured? Had the demon attacked him? No… he couldn't have possibly survived, if he truly had been attacked…
"Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?" Dante yelled again, this time in a much lower and gentler voice.
He still didn't get an answer, which irked him a little. Man, kids these days! He'd never really liked them anyway, but he couldn't just leave this child here in the same cave as a demon, could he?
"Look, I'm coming over to you, alright? I'm not going to hurt you, I just wanna help."
The devil hunter took a cautious step forwards again. Getting no reaction from the little boy, he slowly walked across the room, avoiding some puddles which were a little deeper than the others. He came to a halt a few feet away from the child who was eyeing him suspiciously. Actually, the scowl on his face was pretty impressive. How old was this brat? Six? Seven? What a punk.
"I repeat myself: I'm not going to hurt you. I mean - look at me! I could be your older brother; you could be my baby brother. We even have the same color of hair, yes? Get my point?"
The scowl on the boy's face deepened. Okay, maybe he didn't want an older brother. Another try.
"I'll show you my guns, they are pretty awesome! I called them Ebony and Ivory because one is black and the other one is white."
He felt like an idiot, but at least this seemed to catch the child's interest. The scowl on his face faltered, a curious look covering it for a moment, making it actually look like a child's face instead of a little devil's. … Where the hell was that demon hiding, by the way…
"Do you like swords? I have a super-awesome sword, too!"
Dante unsheathed Rebellion to prove his point. He let it circle once in his hand, the boy's eyes widening in admiration. Ha! This was just too easy.
"I have to come closer to show it to you, though. You want to see my sword, yes?"
Goddamn, he sounded like a perverted pedophile! But it was working – the boy had taken a hesitant step forward and seemed to be torn between not letting his guard down and just give in to his childish curiosity and approach the devil hunter. Taking the burden of having to decide from him, Dante quickly eliminated the short distance between the two of them by taking a few long steps forwards. The boy flinched a little, but didn't move away. The devil hunter was pleased – what a great baby-sitter he'd make! He kneeled down and held Rebellion in front of the child's face whose eyes sparkled in awe.
"Pretty awesome, isn't it?"
In this proximity Dante could clearly see that the boy was injured. The lower part of his pale face was covered in crusty blood, obviously from a bruised nose or lip. His left eye was surrounded by a painful-looking shade of purple, making the light-blue irises look even brighter than they already were. His right arm was bandaged from the tip of his fingers to the shoulder and just like the white fabric of his shirt, soaked in blood. Every exposed part of his skin had scrapes and bruises on it. Dante actually started to feel bad for him. What the hell had happened?
"What are you doing here? Don't you know this is a very dangerous place? Look at how battered you are! Isn't your mother worried about you?" the young man started asking, lowering his sword to look directly into the boy's eyes. The child took a step backwards and raised his left arm to shyly scratch the side of his nose, avoiding the older male's gaze. Dante slowly sheathed Rebellion and made a gesture for the boy to come closer.
"I can take you home, I promise. You wanna go home, right? To your mom?"
Why didn't he answer? Hadn't Dante gained his trust yet? He had managed to approach him until they were just a few inches apart after all, why wouldn't he answer his questions?
"Look, just give me your hand; I'm taking you home, alright?"
He carefully reached out to take the boy's little hand in his, but the child flinched before he could touch it. A scowl had formed on his face again, but this time it seemed to be more of a scared nature than a menacing one.
"You can't stay here, it's too dangerous! Don't you understand? There's a nasty demon in this cave." Dante revealed in the hope that it would scare the kid enough to make him go with him. "Demons are very bad and ugly-looking creatures which eat you alive. You don't wanna be eaten alive now, do you?"
Wow, that glare! The devil hunter didn't have much time to think anything else, as he was hurled back by an incredible force. He collided with the stony wall on the opposite side of the room and slumped unceremoniously to the ground. He stood up on wobbly legs and shook off the pain like a dog would shake off water after taking a bath.
"Dammit, what the hell was that?!" he swore and groaned as his spine creaked in protest.
Had the fucking demon chosen this exact moment to show itself or what?! It was quite a surprise to see that there still was nobody else in the room apart from he himself and the child. What the… the child was standing with his arms bent and tense, hands clenched into fists in front of his angry face. His right arm was glowing brightly through the bandages, bathing the corner he was standing in, in a bluish light.
There it was the demon he had been looking for all along. There it was, right in front of the devil hunter in appearance of a fucking kid! Dante instantly pulled Ebony and Ivory out of their holsters and aimed at the boy's head, ready to fire.
But he didn't. His hands started to tremble lightly and he lowered the guns a little, just to readjust them; aiming at the demon-child once again.
No. He couldn't possibly shoot him, could he? Hadn't he been peaceful until just then? Wasn't he injured enough as a clear sign of weakness? He was just a kid, for hell's sake!
Dante lowered Ebony and Ivory, letting his arms hang limply at his sides.
"You… you're the demon then." he stated awkwardly.
"I'm partly a demon, so what?! I'll kill you just like I killed everybody else! You won't stop me – nobody will!" the boy cried with a hoarse voice, his arm beaming almost white.
Partly a demon? Was this child just like Dante and his twin-brother the result of an union between a human being and a devil? It would explain the similar looks they shared, but what was the matter with his right arm?
"I don't wanna hurt you. I'm just like you, a half-devil, too." the young man tried to reassure the boy, demonstratively holstering his guns.
"I know you are, but then why are you chasing after me?! Why chase after your own kind?!"
"No – look, I don't know if you've ever seen a demon before, but they are evil creatures! We are different from them, despite being partly demons, you understand?"
"NO! YOU LIE! YOU JUST WANT TO BRING ME BACK TO THAT PLACE!" the boy shrieked, a bright blue light shooting out of his arm, as something that looked similar to a giant hand snatched Dante's middle to squash him against the wall once more, this time holding him up against it, though.
"N-no, I just wanna help, I promise!" the young man croaked, trying to free himself from the crushing clutch.
Dante was released from the death grip and he slowly slid down to the ground. Had it worked – had he managed to convince the little devil that he could trust him? A glance in the child's direction told him otherwise: the poor kid had collapsed, obviously having used up the last bit of energy he had had, by attacking him.
Well, this was better for the both of them. Dante stretched himself, his bent rips springing back to their original shape with an ugly cracking sound. He rolled his shoulders a few times while hissing in pain, and then walked over to where the unconscious boy was lying. He kneeled down and picked him up like a little bride.
'Damn, this kid's not bad at all! Friggin' awesome arm, how does he do that?' Dante mused, eyeing the limp body in his arms with admiration.
And in that same instant - as he was holding that petite, abused body, the devil hunter decided that he kind of liked that kid. And that he was going to take him home with himself. He couldn't let him there after all; people obviously wanted him dead because he had demon-blood and it would have been a matter of days until the next devil-hunter was sent to accomplish what Dante didn't have the heart to do. There wasn't much else of a choice.
"Verge's gonna be pretty pissed."
It had been one hell of a ride to get back home with a limp body between his arms and chest constantly threatening to fall off the motorcycle, but there he finally was: in front of his beloved "Devil May Cry". It was a modest shop with two floors: two bedrooms and a bathroom on the first floor; a toilet, a little kitchen and a spacious living room they used for business matters on the ground floor. Dante tended to make a mess out of it, but his twin kept the whole thing under control.
He hoped Vergil wasn't at home yet, because it would make things much more unpleasant, if not… lethal.
The young man climbed down of his bike and caught the swaying figure before it could collide with the hard ground. Tucking his hands underneath the boy's cold bare thighs, he lifted him up and carried him inside of the shop whose door he managed to unlock and open only with difficulty. All the jiggling caused the still unconscious boy to groan and stuff his face into the crook of Dante's neck. It strangely fitted perfectly and the arm which rose to twine around his neck didn't feel in the wrong place either.
"I'm home~" Dante yelled, but was greeted only by silence. He sighed in relief – luck seemed to be on his side.
He closed the door behind himself with the heel of his boot and headed straight for the couch which was not too far away from the entrance. The sickly thin body was carefully lowered onto it. The devil hunter stayed bent over with a knee and an arm supporting his weight to inspect the child's physical condition. He supposed he should check out the wounds to make sure that nothing vital had been damaged. Even if the kid was partly a demon – his healing process didn't seem to be working quite well. If it was working at all, that is…
If the little devil was meant to be eliminated; did that mean Dante had to fake his death and keep him hidden afterwards? He could send the quest-giver the boy's blood-soaked shirt, claiming to have fulfilled the mission. They would pay him AND he'd get to keep the kid for himself, which was like killing two birds with one stone.
No. He couldn't keep the kid himself. Vergil would kill him (Dante); he'd stab him with his katana and then he'd tear his head off with his bare hands. And even if he accepted to take the child in – children were damn expensive. They couldn't afford another glutton in the house they'd have to feed.
And seriously: Dante was way too young himself with his nineteen years to be raising another brat. Especially if the brat was more demon than human! Come on – what about the pathetic phase in his devilish life when he started to fight for rank and territory. What about the day he'd look out for a demonic girlfriend, dammit!
The devil hunter tore his eyes away from the pale, blood-crusted face and stood upright to walk to the bathroom. He came back after a few minutes with the first-aid kit under his arm and a bin filled with water in his hand; the cloth he was going to use to wipe the dirt off the boy's skin hanging around his neck.
It was quite a surprise to find the couch empty.
Dante immediately stopped in his motions and slowly, carefully sank his equipment to the floor. So Sleeping Beauty had woken up, huh. And where the hell was he hiding? He scrutinized the whole lobby of the shop with sharp eyes, but he couldn't see the little devil anywhere. Had he run away? He hadn't locked the door after all; he could have easily left from there. The young man took some steps towards the door with the intention of going outside and checking the area in front of his house, but he was caught off guard by a flying chair which barely missed his head. A few bottles of booze and a pair of leather boots followed. Dante managed to dodge it all easily after the first moment of surprise, but shards of glass sprang back everywhere and one of them cut his cheek. He lost his temper.
"GAH! What a punk! Come out of wherever you're hiding right now, or I swear I'm gonna kick your ass in a way that will make it hard for you to walk!"
"Why did you bring me here?! Where the heck IS here?! LET ME GO!" a high-pitched voice screamed from the other end of the room.
The devil hunter wiped the blood off his face and paced toward his desk. Why did he hate kids again? Oh~ that's why: they were ugly, noisy and generally a pain in the ass!
'Fuck this shit, Verge's gonna be pissed at me anyway!'
He took a hold of the wooden piece of furniture and threw it out of the way. The little devil who had been hiding under it startled greatly and jumped up from his crouching position to stumble backwards. He was obviously terrified, but the moment he lifted his "special" arm, probably to attack, Dante tackled him to the ground and flipped him around in a swift movement. He twisted his bandaged arm behind his back and roughly pushed his face into the cold and hard tiles of the floor. The boy whined in protest, kicked and squirmed to free himself, but the older male was doing a good job in holding him still, because after a while of struggling, he slacked off completely and Dante would have thought he had collapsed again, hadn't it been for the quick rise and fall of his narrow shoulders as he loudly gasped for air.
"It's alright – it's all cool. I'm here to help you. I'm not gonna hurt you any further, but you have to behave a little, too, understood? No more throwing things at me and no more using that arm of yours to do bad things in general!"
To Dante's surprise the little devil started wriggling again. His breathing was raspy like the one of an injured animal. The young man tried to keep him still by twisting his arm a little more, but the reaction he got wasn't quite the one he was looking for. The boy uttered a piteous cry and started sobbing hysterically.
And of course Vergil chose exactly that moment to come home.
The tall, well-built male stepped inside the shop and furrowed his brow at the sound of screaming and crying. He quietly closed and locked the door behind himself and laid Yamato on a nearby table, before taking his long, blue coat off and hanging it up. He brushed his hair back by letting his long fingers glide through the loose, white strands and sighed deeply.
Alright, he was ready to find out what the hell Dante had been up to this time.
But he clearly hadn't been prepared for the scenario that presented itself to him as soon as he walked further into the house. Shards of glass and spilled booze (by the smell at least) everywhere, a few pieces of wood which, he presumed, used to be the chair his twin liked to sit on while being lazy at his desk. The desk itself thrown in the middle of the lobby, turned over. His brother, assaulting a child.
It was just too much for Vergil's nerves.
"Oooh~ hi Verge! I swear this isn't what it looks like." Dante chirped with a false cheerful-sounding voice.
The child cried louder. Was that blood on his petite frame? His brother had gone really too far this time…
"Dante, if you don't let go of that child immediately, I'll impale you with Yamato."
Seriously, what was he thinking?! What a foolish brother he had been punished with.
"Are you crazy?! If I let go of him now, he'll, like, crush my skull with his demonic arm-thingy!"
"Dante, I'm serious." to emphasize that, he walked a few steps back to grab his katana and unsheathed it.
The younger twin bowed his head in defeat and released the boy's arm and head. It took a while for the child's sobbing to calm down to a remotely non-hysterical level, but when it did, he slowly pulled himself together and struggled to his feet, taking a few steps on wobbly legs before running off to lunge at Vergil and hide his face into the fabric of his dark blue shirt. The older male awkwardly stared down at him, before cautiously placing a hand on top of his head.
"Seriously, Dante, what the hell were you thinking?" Vergil reproved his brother with a low, but severe voice. He had sheathed Yamato and laid it back on the table.
"No – look, you got this completely wrong, man! I took him home in that condition; it wasn't me who did that to him! He's the target of the mission I got this morning, but I didn't have the heart to kill him, because he's a half demon like us and doesn't deserve to die because of that. I swear, I was going to check on his wounds, but he's totally aggressive and unpredictable! Totally unreasonable!"
"Is this what you call totally aggressive and unpredictable?" the blue-clad young man said, gesturing to the boy attached to his abdomen.
Dante sighed tiredly. Now he felt like a monster for having treated the kid so harshly, but how else could he have made him listen to him? He stood up slowly and approached the two other males.
"I… I just thought that maybe we could keep him here… at least for a-a while." he confessed softly.
"Doesn't this boy have a family?" Vergil wondered aloud.
"One that wants him dead?" Dante suggested jokingly.
The older twin shook his head disapprovingly and gently peeled the still sniffling child off himself.
"This is completely out of the question. We are not keeping him with us. He can stay until we have found a reasonable solution and then he'll be gone. You shouldn't have brought him home in the first place – instead of helping him you've just done him even more wrong."
Dante felt himself blush a little under his brother's harsh reprovals. Things hadn't gone exactly the way he had planned; Vergil didn't need to be a damn dick about it! He opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by the other male before he had the chance to do it.
"I'm going to take care of him now. He's obviously too scared of you, for you to do it yourself."
Vergil went to pick up the first-aid-kit and the bin Dante had brought into the lobby with good intentions, completely unaware of how unpleasant things were going to turn out just a few seconds later. The little devil followed him closely, occasionally shooting wary glances at Dante. At least he wasn't crying anymore...
"Make sure to clean up this mess. Idiot."
Said idiot could only stare as the two disappeared upstairs, leaving him behind like HE was the bad guy.
'Well, could have gone worse. Could have been stabbed or have my head ripped off, but I'm still alive and in one piece.'
Dante carelessly dropped his red coat on the floor and kicked his leather boots off. He let himself fall onto his bed and scratched his bare torso, yawning loudly. The young man had just finished cleaning up the disaster in the Devil May Cry lobby, which, by the way, hadn't been a very pleasurable experience.
Getting his fingers cut while picking up thousands of tiny glass-shards from the ground wasn't exactly something he had enjoyed too much, even if the cuts healed after a few minutes, just like the one on his cheek had. Seeing his favorite chair in pieces of wood he could use for a fireplace they didn't even have, had kinda hurt too. Not to mention all the shed booze! The booze, dammit! He had considered lapping the booze off the ground… but the thick, black spider swimming in it had changed his mind.
It was useless to cry over spilled booze… even if it was of his favorite brand. So he tried to think of something else, something even more important: was Vergil done with the kid yet? They had been staying in the bathroom for quite some time.
Dante thought about the day's events and found himself starting to drift off to sleep, but he was harshly brought back into a very conscious state of mind when the door to his bedroom snapped open.
"What do you think you're doing?" Vergil growled, stepping into the room.
"Well, let's see – what does it look like, Verge? Has your insanity finally gotten the better of you, hm? I'm trying to fucking sleep!"
"Nero is sleeping in this room."
"Nero…? Ahaa~! Is that his name? … Wait, what did you say?! No way, man!"
The younger twin jumped into a sitting position and glared at his brother. Vergil wasn't very impressed, sadly...
"You took him home, you take responsibility. Let's change the sheets, now."
"Fuck you, you smartass! Of course I took him home, would you have left him there?! Have you seen the condition he was in?!"
Dante stood up and stepped towards the slightly taller devil-hunter. He tried to look threatening and every other person (or demon) in the world might have been affected by the dark aura which surrounded him. Vergil just walked past him...
"That's exactly why he should be sleeping in a proper bed and guess what – yours is perfect."
He started changing the sheets and Dante was left watching him, grumbling a little in discontentment. He didn't object anymore, though. The image of a small, blood-crusted face continued to appear inside of his head and bring up feelings of sympathy and guilt, which made Dante feel uncomfortable (especially the latter, linking it to the way he had handled the boy earlier...). It wouldn't be too much trouble sleeping on the couch, he guessed.
"Is... is he alright?" the topless twin muttered the question, nonchalantly scrutinizing a crippled cockroach in the corner of his room.
"He is hurt, but nothing too serious. The most of his injuries are only superficial scrapes and bruises. He claims the blood on his shirt isn't his own."
"You mean... he really killed somebody?"
"I don't doubt it. He's almost a full demon after all. Clearly more devil then the both of us are. And have you seen his arm? It's different from the rest of his body – it's a demon's arm."
"I didn't see it, but I got the pleasure of feeling it. And by the way, no, it wasn't really pleasant."
"You probably deserved it. He says he has never had a family and has lived in an orphanage most of his life, until a laboratory bought him to study his arm. He didn't tell me much after that, but I think it's clear that he ran away, somehow."
"Hey Verge, can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"Why the fuck did he tell you all of this, while he tried to kill me?"
Vergil stopped smoothing down the clean, white linen (he was done changing the sheets) and turned around to face his brother. He questioningly raised an eye-brow and took a few steps forwards, until they were standing close. He poked Dante in the middle of the torso and answered:
"Because you, my dear brother, are an idiot."
Then he walked off, out of the room, and the younger twin's face carried a mortified expression on it, as he ran after him.
"You're a fucking asshole, dammit!"
Dante followed Vergil into the kitchen, where the boy, Nero, was sitting at the table, munching the rest of what probably had been a gigantic Vergil-made sandwich. Vergil's sandwich were quite tasty, so Dante didn't blame the kid too much for having smeared sauce on most of his face and emitting strange animal-like noises while eating... Okay, he must have been pretty starved to act like that. Well, he did look skinny as hell after all...
Now that his face was clean from the blood and dirt, Dante could clearly see that the boy had pretty features. He also didn't look as battered as he had before – sure, he still had a shiner and a split lip, but other than that he looked relatively fine. Vergil had clothed him in a blue pajama shirt and very old, blue-white striped pajama pants, which were both much too large for him. But at least they covered him up. His arm had been bandaged up once again.
Nero swallowed the last bit of sandwich he had left and murmured a demanding "More!" which both twins answered to by cocking their eyebrow. Vergil cleared the table and stuffed everything in the sink before answering: "You'll get more tomorrow, it's not good for you to eat too much at once, especially after not having eaten for days."
The child seemed embarrassed, as if he hadn't even realized he had expressed himself aloud. He wiped his face with a napkin and bashfully scratched the side of his nose.
"We could order pizza tomorrow!" Dante chirped cheerfully in the hope of lifting the kid's mood. Nero looked up and their gazes met. The boy stared at him with a blank face for a while, then his eyebrows drew together to form an ugly glare. The older male just shrugged it off; he'd have to teach that brat some things about nasty attitudes.
"You should go to bed and rest now." Vergil said, interrupting their mental debate. Nero stood up and walked confidently, never turning around, as he followed the blue-clad devil-hunter upstairs.
What a punk, seriously. Why did he behave around Vergil, while he was a complete jerk around Dante? Sure - he had been a bit harsh earlier that day, but only because Nero had given him no choice. He had tried to be gentle, to help the kid. Seriously, he had! And what had he gotten in return? A good licking. And that from a little boy, dammit! How strong was he going to be when he grew up? Would he become more reasonable, more aggressive? Would he become evil? Like a real devil?
Well, fact was that he was going to stay for a while. Dante could as well try and make him like him.
When Dante walked into the kitchen the next morning, Vergil and Nero were already sitting at the table and eating. Well, at least Vergil was, Nero was more, like, shoving food down his throat without really chewing on it. Strangely the bruises on his face hadn't faded yet; someone with demon genes like him should have already healed by then, but he hadn't. Maybe his regeneration capability was limited? Or maybe he was in a state of trauma?
Dante took place in front of the two of them and helped himself to a portion of fried eggs and bacon.
"Morning." he mumbled in a scratchy voice and Vergil nodded his head salutatory. Nero glanced at him with curious eyes and said nothing. At least he wasn't scowling anymore.
They ate in silence, obviously no one of them was a morning person. Oh, how utterly delightful it was, when Vergil stood up and announced that he was leaving due to an early mission. Both younger males turned pale and gaped at him in panic.
"You better behave." Vergil hissed and for a moment Dante thanked heaven for having such a considerate brother. Until he noticed that he had adressed him and not the kid.
"Fuck you, man!" he growled, but it came out a little muffled since his mouth was full of food.
"Are you insane?! There's a child right in front of you; one would hope that you'd control that filthy tongue of yours at least then!"
"Shut up, smartass!"
"We'll clarify that when I come back, fool."
Vergil patted Nero's shoulder (the boy was staring up at him with pleading eyes, but with no success), then walked out of the kitchen, took his blue coat and katana, and left the shop. Just like that. He just left like that, dammit!
"... So, kid – what now? Are you going to try to kill me again?" Dante asked, warily glaring at the boy. Nero was quick to glare back.
"Shut up, smartass!" he cried, gripping his spoon tightly. Hopefully he wasn't intending to stab the devil hunter with it... would be quite painful and pitiful to die like that...
"Hey, you don't talk like that to an adult, damn punk!" Dante replied, not noticing that Nero was using his own words against him.
"Fuck you, man - I do what I want!"
Dante abruptly stood up and pointed his fork at the part demon, accidentally tossing pieces of food everywhere. Nero looked first at the fork, then at the older male and intensified the scowl on his face.
"Remember yesterday? Me, pushing you against the floor and you screaming like a little girl? Well, if you don't want that to happen again, you better listen to me!" Dante threatened the boy. He didn't really want to hurt the kid again, but he hoped it would scare him enough to make him behave. He obviously didn't know Nero at all.
"I won't let you do that to me again, you meanie!"
"Oh- you won't let me do that again?! Well: This is MY territory, you little shit and I'm the alpha-demon, or whatever you call it, around here, so you better do what I say, or I'll kick you out of my nest!"
"What the heck are you talking about?!"
Okay, maybe being almost a full demon still didn't mean being like an animal... it had been worth a try, though.
"Forget what I said! Look – can't we just be friends?" Dante finally said, sitting down again and laying his fork back on the table. Nero seemed caught off guard by that request and his face relaxed immediately. He stared at the older male with big, blue eyes for a while, then his cheeks turned slightly pink.
"... Friends?" Nero asked, dropping his gaze and fixing it on his half-empty cereal bowl instead.
Wow. "Can't we just be friends" seemed to be words with some hidden magic power. The kid had turned from a rabid kitten into a docile bunny in the timespan of a second. Dante shook himself out of his amazement, not wanting to miss that sacred moment, and spoke:
"Sure! You know, friends, like, I know your favorite pizza toppings, you know my favorite pizza toppings and we can order pizza for each other! Friends, like, we share the last bottle of booze. Friends, like, I kick everybody's ass, who tries to fuck with you – well not literally of course! Well, if somebody tried to fuck you without your consent I obviously would kick their ass for good... uhm... anyway, we're getting off topic here – and you stop being a brat around me... ... Doesn't this sound totally awesome?"
Nero looked extremely confused, as if he hadn't understood one word of what Dante had just said (which he probably hadn't), but he seemed to consider the proposition all the same. The devil hunter grinned at him widely, displaying all of his charm. Without luck, since the kid just frowned at him. The boy slowly stood up and Dante's alarm bells rang, especially when he raised his left arm. The older male jumped to his feet, ready to dodge, but the attack he had expected, never came. Nero was just holding out his pale, tiny hand, as if to shake hands.
"Deal." he mumbled, the pink on his cheeks turning into scarlet. "I wanna be friends!"
Dante, still hiding behind his arms and peeking through his fingers, blinked in astonishment, before slowly giving up his defensive posture. He was still a little wary – freaking kid was like Lucifer in the flesh, after all, but Nero's intentions seemed innocent and genuine enough for the moment.
So the devil hunter enclosed that pale, tiny hand in his own and gave it a good shake.
"Deal!" he nodded.
It seemed like they were going to have quite a new family member around and there was little Vergil could do against it.
Hope you enjoyed!