Chapter 2 - Rogue Heart
Cesare didn't think he'd ever see her again, but he did. So, he kept his promise to Dante and fed her with whatever she wanted. But when she had returned her first time, she had no clue what to choose off the menu and looked much like a lost child, so he gave her his advice and she gladly took his suggestion and went for Spaghetti.
And he soon found out, she was well spoken in her timid way, and able to warm his heart with praising and thanking him a most polite way. He never meddled in the business of the white haired man he learned to call his reliable friend over all the years. And his youngest addition, a young, reserved man named Nero, was as much appreciated as Dante.
Cesare, with his fatherly way, did his best and welcomed Nero to the city and soon enough he came here often by himself just to catch up on things and a good conversation in general. He liked Nero, who seemed more serious than his caretaker, but in very pleasant and mature way.
The few people that Dante tended to have around where all very diverse to say the least, but not entirely unpleasant to have around. Though he knew, they ventured all into business far beyond his imagination. And Cesare never bothered to ask, for he assumed it to be dangerous and not a the right choice of topic for small talk.
He just knew, when trouble would arise, Dante would be there. And when he brought in the girl along, he didn't question Dante's motives for a second. Cesare had eyes as well, which identified her easily enough for what she was. Someone who was lost. What sparked Dante's interest of all things, he wouldn't know.
To Cesare, all there was to know that she needed a good meal once in a while and he was providing it willingly. And Dante always paid good money these days. Cesare had a family of his own to feed and Dante, who had changed quite a bit over the years, never let his tap rise to the amount where it would hurt his business.
The man in red had matured tremendously without loosing his juvenile charm completely. Certainly still not someone to judge easily either. But he had a heart of gold under all this layers of his from time to time versatile character. One good soul to call upon, and the city was positively short on those. In Cesare's eyes, the young woman had more luck to come across Dante of all people than she probably figured.
And when she had returned a second time within a week Cesare was glad, how she still managed to survive unharmed. She only showed up mid week, for this was the least busy time. Cesare quickly saw through the pattern and after a few weeks, he already had her order in the making when she came in, by now always greeting him with a wide smile on her lips.
Sometimes he would visit her table and they had an admittedly awkward kind of small talk. She had been very shy towards him at first, but had shown effort to open up slowly bit by bit. Cesare read her like an open book, he knew she was ashamed of her circumstances.
But Cesare didn't mind at all. She was a civil girl, despite her scuffed looks. She did thank him profusely everytime and any time she would leave. And he would watch her with a worried expression and ask himself where she would go tonight. The colder the year went, the worse she would look when she came by.
Today it was no different. The evening was chill and windy and the relentless rain would soon turn to snow. When he heard the doorbell and saw her small frame enter, he felt relieved. But a closer look made him second guess that immediately. She had a wool beanie on her head, pulled low enough, so the rim shaded her eyes in very suspicious way.
Cesare saw it nonetheless. Her face was smeared with dirt or worse, dried blood, he wasn't entirely sure. Her fuzzy hair stuck our from under the beanie and it looked dark and sticky. She avoided to openly face him, and the way she carried herself told him something was alarmingly off with her movement.
But the quiet little one she was, she smiled bravely and strictly went for the bathroom, answering his greeting with just a brief wave of her hand. Cesare looked at his waitress. "If she doesn't come out in ten minutes, please go and check on her." His blonde staff nodded, before she went to set Devon's table.
Minutes ticked by and Cesare became nervous, but soon enough Devon reappeared from the restrooms. It seemed like she had washed the sticky substance from her hair and had cleaned her face, but the shadow under her eye had remained the same. She was keen on putting up her usual behaviour, so Cesare masked his worried expression to not alarm her more than she already was.
Devon winced as she sat down. God, this hurt like hell. And the way Cesare had been staring at her, she knew he already had recognized the sorry state she was in. The city was full of bastards. And today she had been granted the doubtful pleasures of meeting such detestable scumbags. Her backpack was gone. And with it the few, completely worthless but yet dear things she had possessed.
Devon let out a deep sigh and slumped forward, using her arms as a cushion on the table. Fucking idiots. All she could have done was to run and hide. And she did exactly that. But not before they managed to get her.
She felt miserable, her hands, sides, face, legs, just about everything hurt. And after she had checked herself in the restroom, she knew she looked as nasty as she felt.
The waitress brought her dish and gave a short consoling look. But Devon didn't feel like doing her the favour and ignored it completely. Everybody could shove their sympathy up their asses.
It would heal, she would move on. It was just that simple. Devon thanked her nonetheless for the food and to her relief the blonde woman left her alone without further notice.
"Did she say anything?" Dante asked the owner of the pizza joint, after he told him of Devon. And that she was not alright. Not at all.
"No, and I don't think she will. She just pretends there's nothing wrong with her." Cesare explained, sounding worried. As he had promised the white haired man, he had called him right away. He wouldn't let the poor girl go anywhere all bruised up and alone tonight.
Dante clicked his tongue in annoyance. Damn girl. He had made her promise, she would stay out of trouble. Her luck, that Cesare actually cared. And while they talked, he paced around in front of his desk. He didn't know, if he should be angry or not. He thanked Cesare profusely for the head up and slammed the receiver down on the hook.
Yup. Definitely angry.
But on another note, she still had voted to show up and get something to eat, after being beaten up or so Cesare believed what had occurred to her. Maybe he should even praise her, for being considerate. He banged his fist on the desk and groaned.
"What's the matter with you? Did your date turn you down the last minute?" Nero mocked him, sneering over the backrest of the couch he slouched on lazily while some eastern flickered across the huge TV.
"Oh, shut up." Dante snapped and Nero scowled at him for receiving such blunt answer. So, Dante was obviously in a foul mood. His curiosity spiked up at that. Something had to be up.
The older devil suddenly grabbed his coat and the keys for the bike.
Nero whined at that. For how many times Dante had told him he didn't like the bike, he sure as hell took it pretty often for a ride. "Dante, don't break it again. It was a lot of work to repair." He warned with a sour look on his face.
"I'll be careful." Dante assured the younger one. And he really meant it. Nero had put a lot of time and effort to restore the old motorcycle. Were it depending on Dante, the thing would still rot in his garage.
"Not even a scratch, you hear?" Nero called after him, as he sat up to watch Dante heading for the door. "Where are you going anyway? Was this a business call?"
"No, I'm going out." He informed Nero, who wore a confused look on his face.
"Okay..." Nero replied and shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch and returned his attention to the TV. Whatever. He wouldn't question Dante about with whom or what he would stay the night. It simply wasn't his business nor was he one wanting to brag about it in the first place.
Dante rode his bike like the devil he was. He felt bitter and angry. The red beast roared inside his belly, clawing at his insides to find a way to vent his frustration. He sped up, violently turning a corner and the bike lurched under him. He repositioned his body to not fall off and ground his teeth hard. He forced himself to gain control over his emotions and to not manhandle the bike and crash it completely in the process.
Soon enough he reached his destination and was about to jump off the bike letting it just fall to the concrete. But he got a hold of himself in the last second. His anger wouldn't achieve anything. And he promised Nero to watch it.
He stopped, stilled and sat upright for a moment to calm himself down. He breathed in and out several times, looking up and closing his eyes. He could find and hit something later as often as necessary, but for now he needed to keep his cool. With a sigh he got off the bike and sauntered into the pizza parlor with his trademark smirk and usual swagger.
Wafts of delicious smells of fresh food met him as he entered. He tipped his head to greet Cesare, who gave him a queasy look. Dante's gaze shifted to his usual spot.
There she sat, hunched over a plate of pasta, eating with her left hand. He frowned upon that, knowing she was right handed, but as soon as he made his way across the room, he understood.
The smell of blood was faint, but it was evident. On his inside his devil released a slow agonizing growl.
He was one step away to ask her where and when those idiots had attacked her. He wanted to find them, make them suffer. His inner demon whispered all the wretched things he could do to make them pay thoroughly.
It would be so deliciously satisfactory to have them at his mercy. And he would show none to their despicable actions. The only thought that held him back at that moment was, that no human would be able to last long under his devil's punishment. Not nearly long enough to even grasp a fraction of his hatred towards them. They wouldn't survive long enough for him to break every solid bone in their mushy bodies. And in the end it wouldn't be worth it. All he would do, was to get the word out to the right people and hope that the city would clean up after itself and it's human scum.
For now, he needed his temper in check and pushed the thoughts far into the back of his head as he plopped down ungracefully startling Devon, who clearly had paid no attention the whole time.
Her head snapped up at the uninvited intruder and her mortified, comical look almost made him laugh. But the smell of blood halted his action. It was unsettling and he would have liked nothing better than to yank her up and inspect her for the source of the coppery smell.
He heaved a sigh – calm and cool, like always.
"What, no milkshake to the dish?" His voice was as smooth and mocking as ever.
Devon looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights. His stern, scrutinizing stare was a harsh contrast to the nonchalance of his question. It made her feel guilty. She tried to cover the bruise on the right side of her face with resting it in the palm of her right hand but the overall movement made her wince. Dante rolled his eyes and snatched her by the wrist.
"Who did this?" He growled, but Devon simply tried to yank her arm out of his grasp. It was no use, his grip only tightened to a painful degree.
"What the hell, dude!" Devon hissed at him with a wound up expression, eyes darting back and forth between his strong hold and his face. He let her go as she tried once more to pull herself free with as much strength as she could gather. The momentum of her own movement almost knocked her off the chair, not entirely anticipating he would let her go so abruptly.
Dante controlled his anger as he repeated his former question in a steady low voice. "Who did this?"
Another pointy glare was sent her way that let her know his patience was at it's end. She shrugged at him. "Like I know. Just some drunken idiots. Too drunk to get down to the real fucking business." She cast her eyes down, to avoid those piercing blue eyes.
She had been lucky, that those three bastards hadn't been able to do much. So she got away with a few cuts and bruises. Not like that never had happened before.
When one of them had shoved the knife in her face, her instincts had kicked in dead set on survival and escape. They had wanted to cut her into pieces but the sluggish drunken attempt had left her an opening to kick and bite and punch until she was free to high-tail out of the situation as fast as her weakened state had made it possible.
And the only safe place she could think of as she frantically ran for her life was Cesare's Pizza Parlor. She should have known, he would call Dante.
"Like hell you are." His voice was softer now. "Eat up. And then, you're coming with me." He declared in steely determination, leaving no room for open discussion.
"Certainly not." She snorted defiantly, observing how Dante gritted his teeth, but like she cared. No way would she go with him anywhere. "I can take care of that myself."
Dante's up to this point friendly expression disappeared, he had it with her. "Here I thought you were actually smart. Do you have any means to get that cleaned up? Look at yourself, you're dirty all over and drenched to the bone again. It will get infected, if you continue to sleep in the gutter. And I can assure you, it will hurt. A lot more than it does now. And then you wouldn't be able to move. And if someone catches you in that sorry state, there is no way you get away so easily next time around."
Yes, Devon knew all too well. Yet, she forced herself not to think about that. But especially the deep gashes on her arm worried her. She could feel the stickiness of the drying blood, already glueing her clothes to her skin and it hurt whenever she shifted. Her right side had hurt so badly, when she had tried to lift her arm, she refrained from using it at all.
She also knew damn well, it would get worse. Only the tiny bit left of her dignity solely dictated her actions towards the man opposite her. She couldn't afford to show weakness. To anyone. So why did her eyes betray her, as they started to sting with shameful tears? She silently begged him to stop his explications, but Dante did no such thing,making sure it would hit home.
He witnessed the inward struggle she fought. Of course she didn't trust him. But he had faith in his talent to make people do so. One sympathetic gesture at a time. Not to much. It would only foster her suspicious thinking, if he overdid it. He leaned back in a more relaxed manner and offered her a warm smile. "Eat up, before it gets cold."
Devon slouched back in defeat and did as he told her and he just nodded in appreciation. She awkwardly tried with her left hand, but the task wasn't easy and his staring didn't even begin to make it better, but downright worse. "Be right back." He announced, as he rose from his seating. He would let her finish in peace, sensing her discomfort all over him.
Dante trudged over to Cesare. "Thanks for the call, buddy." He patted the older man on the back, before he sat down on a bar stool.
"Don't mention it." The owner replied and poured Dante a shot, which the devil hunter didn't even need to ask for. He liked the muted concord that had built between them over the years. He tipped the glass to Cesare before downing it. The burning feeling down his throat somewhat eased his inner tension.
"I need to use your phone." Dante informed Cesare as he poured him his second shot. "Be my guest."
There was no way, Devon would manage to ride with him on the bike. She was keen of not letting it show, but she was in pain. He wouldn't risk loosing her on the ride back home. So he had tried to reach Vergil, but to no avail, the dumbass wasn't even home he guessed. So, he had to take up Nero's offer to drive the old Camaro, instead of Vergil.
As highly expected, the boy had been stoked on the spot, because he rarely was offered the privilege to drive anywhere. As good as he was with repairing things, it rivalled his ability to break things equally. Nero was a skilled bastard with guns and swords, wrenches and cooking utensils, but it was a sole mystery to both brothers how he had managed to dent their beloved car twice a week.
Vergil's best guess was to blame it on the nervous energy, always surrounding Nero when he was getting excited. His ability to concentrate properly always diminished in the process. So, naturally, Dante allowed Nero to drive just in worst case scenarios. This came pretty close to one, so Dante made an exception. And to evade Nero's loud cheer, he ended the call quickly.
With the issue of transportation out of the way, he also ordered a few Pizza's as Take-out for later. He had become hungry the moment he had stalked in and he knew Nero would appreciate something to eat when they got back home as well.
Devon had finished her dish and busied herself with watching Dante from under the rim of her beanie. He had walked behind the counter to use the phone. After only a minute he hung back up and, after he received a third shot of whiskey, came back to join her at the table.
"I have someone to pick us up in a few." He informed her casually. Devon inwardly still objected the idea of going with him. Now, he added up to her distress with telling her that he wasn't alone.
Maybe had a girlfriend or even a wife?
Of course, she thought. Someone like him naturally would have someone after all. Devon had already noted from the first time on, how absurdly attractive he was. She pondered over the thought, what she would be like. Why she assumed, it would be his woman to pick them up, she didn't even know. It only seemed logical.
His effortless good looks were prominent to her more than ever. That scruffy beard was driving women crazy far and wide she guessed half amused. He certainly didn't lack in the muscle department, that much she could tell and was immediately ashamed, that she even pondered about how well build he was.
But she also wondered about his age. His eyes sparkled with youth, but the white hair and the stubble always tried to mislead her. If both traits wouldn't be there, she knew it would take away quite a decade. There were no prominent wrinkles, when he smiled. And that he did a lot. His jovial manner still irked her, but over more pleased her at the same time. She simply knew, that there was a man of undiluted cheerfulness.
Dante wasn't oblivious to the once over she gave him, but didn't mind it in the slightest. He even grinned at her, which pull her out of her thoughts immediately. She averted her eyes quickly and coughed, realizing she had been staring at him for God knows how long.
"Look all you want." He leered at her with a chuckle. "I know, I'm damn fine. And before you ask, yes, the hair is natural."
Devon's eyes popped out very much surprised and abashed. "I wasn't about to ask that." She protested rather weakly. God, he was so damn cocky. But his humorous vein eased her tension down to a tolerable level and she found herself smiling back at him.
"Then, what were you about to ask? Come on, shoot. Wouldn't hurt to know a bit more about each other." He tried to encourage her to talk a bit more about herself. He wouldn't be so bold as to just barge into her personal space with a shitload of questions, but that didn't mean he didn't had any to begin with.
The doorbell rang and drew their attention simultaneously towards the entering figure. It wasn't a woman, like Devon had anticipated. No, not at all. But the second he stepped in, it was fairly obvious to which person in the room he belonged to.
To say Devon was perplexed would be the understatement of the year. She blinked a few times, trying to process the younger version of the man sitting in front of her.
He trudged in with an air of nonchalance around him that clearly rivalled Dante's and Devon swallowed hard. His crimson hoodie made the white hair stand out more drastically, than it already did. Both seemed to wear their unusual haircolor with a pride that had no equal. The first thing that came up in her mind was the term family.
The younger exchanged a few words with Cesare as they shook hands, like the good acquaintances there obviously were.
"Hey, kid." Dante called out to him and he turned the second he had heard the voice. He didn't miss a beat in his steps, but the shadow of a doubt flitted across his smooth, young features.
Nero deliberately overheard the use of his most hated word, as he approached Dante, sitting together with a woman.
He gave her a brief disconcerting look, small enough to go unnoticed by her, not by Dante though. "Nero. Meet Devon." The older man introduced her with a wide gesture of his right arm. Nero gave her a single nod of approval, without so much as an indifferent glance.
Devon mimicked his action, but he already had focussed his full attention back on Dante. She was taken aback by his remote demeanour, but tried not to read too much into it. It seemed he shared the looks with Dante, but not his amicable approach.
Nothing to it, she tried to reassure herself. Though, somewhere deep down, she had almost anticipated and expected this and couldn't help the slight sting of disappointment.
Not all people were acting friendly towards her, and she made it a point to simply don't have high expectations anymore. On the contrary. Most were unfriendly and just once in a time she would meet someone like Dante.
Well, she quickly masked her disappointed look decently enough. Because Dante was something close to a real opportunity to actually have someone nice to interact with so far. She refused to let it pass so easily. She wanted this, as awkward and hurtful as it would get.
"Ready to go?" Nero inquired with a sullen look, shifting from one foot to another impatiently. He was hungry and hadn't been to keen of getting up from his favorite spot on the couch at home. He hadn't told Dante to shove it, only when he heard he had permission to drive the Camaro. He loved the car to bits.
"Ask Cesare if the pizzas are ready, kid. We're ready in a minute."
Nero sauntered off without another word, but his mood had just brightened with the mention of food. The cup noodles he ate at home, hadn't been even the slightest bit sufficient. Hot cheesy pizza would last to compensate for heading out into the ice cold evening.
Devon tried to stand up and winced about the effort it took, before plopping back down on her seat. Her whole body felt sore with the unwelcomed movement, credit to the comfortable position she had been in throughout the last hour. Her body protested harshly, but before she knew, Dante had put his arm around her waist, surprisingly soft enough to not induce more pain.
Devon was stunned by the gentle but secure hold he had on her, admiring his sense of intuition. With joint effort she stood up and Dante steered her towards the counter and back to Nero. Cesare just came back from the kitchen, piling four pizza cartons onto Nero's arms. Dante fumbled around his pockets and protruded several crumpled up dollar bills, handing them over to Cesare while thanking him once more.
Nero, aware there were actually four cartons in his hands, began to realize that Devon would accompany themselves back home. This was the person, Dante had been supposed to pick up. His head whipped around to the two figures and Nero's eyes widened noticeably. His annoyed expression softened a fraction, when he saw how Dante had to hold her so she was able to walk, lest even stand.
What the hell happened to her? Nero swore, he rarely encountered someone so dishevelled in his life. Her appearance led him to believe, someone might had dragged her through a shitload of mud and then left her lying in a ditch.
Her clothes were ragged and dirty, beyond any recognition of the original, undamaged state, they once had been in.
Her worn out boots were a dark brown leather. She didn't even bother to tie up the laces properly, they were chafed and would rip any minute anyway, he guessed. The upper layer of the dull leather had started to peel away here and there.
Not to mention the sorry state of the loose sweater and jacket. Both sported small holes and dirt up the point it was actually hard to guess the colors. Overall, she looked to be in a worrisome condition.
He also noted the bruises on her hands and face.
Oh.
Devon felt the pair of unusual, light blue eyes on her and despite feeling like shit, she raised her head and did everything to look as prideful as she definitely did not feel at this very moment. She prayed he would stop staring at once. Dante watched the wordless exchange highly amused.
As much as Nero loved to give him lip, Dante rightfully predicted his more prominent protective and soft side would kick into gear, as soon as Devon accompanied them on their way home. Nero was a kind hearted person, only a bit stubborn and fickle from time to time.
There was no way Dante would give Nero the bike and he didn't even waste a single thought on the possibility of leaving it behind. They went outside after they said goodbye to the owner and the chill air left Devon shuddering in Dante's grasp. Thankfully the car just stood right outside and Dante walked her to the passengers side, opened the door and only let go of her when she was seated and he even bent down to put the seatbelt on.
Devon blushed at his closeness as he tucked the belt into place. Her brain only noted the clean smell of soap mixed with something she didn't really recognize. She just knew he smelt good. And she must have smelled like weeks old trash cans.
And that was the point, where the pink rose to her cheeks. Embarrassed, she pressed herself into the seat to bring at least some distance between them.
"There you go." Dante patted the seatbelt, after he had secured her into the car. "I'll be right behind you. Meet you back at the shop." That information was for Nero, who was busy putting the pizza's onto the back seat.
Devon though stiffened at his words, awfully frightened. He was about to leave her alone with the other one? And shop? What shop? Her fingers twitched and fumbled with the seatbelt. In this very moment, she really didn't want to be here any longer. Dante put his hands over hers to calm the panicked movement.
"Relax, Sweetheart. Nothing's going to happen to you. Nero is a good kid."
"Don't call me that." The aforementioned one retorted sharply, climbing onto the driver's seat. And it left Devon wondering, why Dante kept calling him kid.
Nero huffed and peered over at her before he turned the key in the ignition and the beast came to life with a deep, full-bodied purr. Dante closed the door on her side and knocked on the roof, signalling them they were good to go. The car started to move and Devon found herself staring outside to keep herself from staring at the young man next to her.
"You cold?" Nero asked her after a while of awkward silence, using a much softer voice than while conversing with Dante. It was slightly deeper and much more gentle. She hummed a yes and he turned the heating up to full capacity. The dull aching of her body made it easy to refocus as well. She clenched and unclenched her stiff fingers making the scrapes and cracks, where she had tried to crawl away on the rough concrete, burn like hell.
"What happened to you? And how do you know Dante?" Nero's voice broke the silence once again, that the two strangers inevitably shared.
"Drunk idiots. Thought it was a good idea to mug me." Devon had to laugh humourlessly at the thought. "Me, of all people. I own even less then every single drunk ass fuckhead on this god damn planet." Devon was surprised with herself as she voiced out her anger and frustration quite colourful.
To her surprise she heard Nero chuckle. And when she finally turned her head to look at him, he gave her a loop sided grin. And when she saw him do this, she returned it. And so the proverbial ice was broken.
"Did Dante get his hands on them?" He inquired with a raised eyebrow, shortly glancing at her before he turned back to face the road ahead.
"No, no. I went to Cesare after I managed to escape. And he obviously dropped the dime to Dante. And that was, how he caught me. And about your other question, we met several times before. He sort of helped me out." Devon's voice became small with the last sentence. He did, didn't he?
.Time.
Dante had helped her every time, if she wanted it or not.
"Well, he's just that kinda guy. Don't read to much into it. It comes with the job description. But he really has a knack for getting people out of trouble." Nero told her with a solemn look on his handsome face, which was in no way inferior to Dante's. Devon scolded her stupid brain for that peculiar observation, thinking it was very much out of place. There were other things to worry about.
She pondered for a moment. Nero seemed willing enough to answer, so she would not pass up the opportunity to play 25 questions about Dante and the intriguing man he was.
"Is he your father?"
Whatever Devon had assumed to get for an answer, it surely wasn't the one to follow.
Nero did a double take, if she was serious. The honest look on her face appeared to be a major yes. He couldn't help to just guffaw out loud. "He's not even old enough for that." His laugh turned to a chuckle. "Oh, wait until you see his face, when I tell him you said that."
Devon shrunk back into her seat, kind of miffed. "Glad, I'm adding to your amusement. Brother then...?"
Nero still looked very much amused. "No. Nothing of that sort. We aren't related at all. We're just house mates and colleagues." He offered her that much information, but apparently didn't want to go into much detail after all.
Devon didn't buy it. He was definitely making fun of her. "Explain the hair?"
How much of a coincidence could it be to have two guys share the same fascinating hair color and even live in the same city under the same roof and to top it all, they worked together...?
Not a chance, pal, she thought. She let her eyes leisurely roam his whole appearance, since the awkward tension had dissolved rather quickly and made her a tad more confident.
Devon admitted, she had to revise her opinion of his semblance.
The white hair was pretty much all that tied him to Dante. Nero's face was different. There was really not enough he had in common with the older one. Dante's eyes weren't as round, his nose had a sharper contour and his chin was broader. Nero's nose was quite cute and the tip wasn't that pointy. And his lips were fuller, than to remind her of Dante's thinner mouth, either.
"So, what you're basically saying is, that's all just a coincidence?" At that Nero nodded with a sheepish grin as he briefly scratched his nose with a gloved right hand.
"That hard to believe? The Hair?" He had the audacity to blow a rasperry at her to underline the fallacy of the whole topic " A pigment disorder. Not that unusual, if you ask me." Okay, he did make that up right on the spot and he was rather proud of it. She still eyed him warily though.
And Nero was far from telling her the truth. How he had been experimented on as a child, how he grew up with strange powers. How he got his right arm, how he became the temporary wielder of Yamato and even fused with it, only to eventually become a host for Vergil's tortured soul. And how they finally managed to draw the older devil twin out for good and bind him to Yamato. And to his brother.
She still had those curious eyes on him. Her former shyness dissolved by the minute. Nero really had no clue what else to talk about, so he just focussed on driving, but her voice split his attention between her and the road once more.
"So what was that he said about a shop?" She asked, and Nero felt relief, that she wouldn't question him any further about his connection to Dante.
"Oh, that's where we live. We just call it that, because it has a bar, pool table and such." He shrugged at her. "You'll see for yourself. It isn't as worse as it sounds, really." His aimed to prepare to some extent to the fashionable, stylish strange interior, but his own tension wouldn't ease at all. She still had to meet Vergil.
That would be fun. He'd rather be not there, if he could help it.
Devon on her side got more and more intrigued with every piece of information she received. So, she had to put up with Dante and Nero, when they got there. Then she remembered the pizzas. There were actually four of them. God, no. Was there yet another one she hadn't met yet?
Devon didn't know how to cope with all of that so suddenly. She had been alone for the so long. So company really wasn't a thing she was used to. These short interactions with people were fine, but knowing that she was being brought to a home where people actually lived was beyond her capability of social intercourse, she believed.
She started to shudder involuntarily and winced everytime her injures told her to keep it down. But she couldn't help the frightening thoughts invading her mind.
Too much, too fast. What would happen? How should she behave? How would they treat her anyway? Would they kick her out, because no one really wanted to put up with a stinking wreck of human garbage that they soon found out to be too bothersome in the end?
"Hey..." Nero's soft and concerned voice ripped her out of her fast wrecking thoughts. "You okay? Does it hurt much?"
Devon turned slightly towards him. She shivered violently, despite the heat in the car. And her gaze wandered around aimlessly until her eyes were glued onto his hands on the steering wheel. She couldn't do much about the question that popped up in her mind as to why he was wearing only one glove.
Nero waved that exact hand in front of her face to gain her attention right now and her eyes followed it wearily. "Don't zone out on me. Okay? We're almost there."
"Y-y-yes..yes..." She stumbled over the word, feeling exhausted all of sudden. The food, the warmth, the pain. Her body had a hard time adjusting properly to all of that at the same time.
But Nero didn't miss a beat at her befuddled behaviour. "Just hold on, okay?" He gave her a reassuring smile. Devon closed her eyes and tried to stay still. The shivers slowly lessened as she focused on the deep vibrant purring of the car.
The heating blew into her cold face and warmed it up pleasurably. The shivering stopped. She had succeeded in calming down. But the pain didn't subside much, no matter how she tried to sit. Every movement made it even worse, so she just kept her eyes shut and settled on bearing with it in the end.
Devon didn't know how long it was, maybe the good half of 20 minutes, but it seemed long enough on her end. The car came to a stop and she heard Nero turning the keys and pulling them out of the ignition. The jingle let her crack her eyes open and Nero came into focus with his white slightly messy hair and his still worried expression. He reached down to unbuckle and did the same for her.
As she tried to get up he shook his head no. ""Wait, wait, I'll get around and help you." And so he did and when he opened the passenger side she grabbed his left hand to slowly lift herself out of the car. She ground her teeth to not whimper, but finally she stood on her own two feet, albeit a little wobbly.
She let go of Nero's warm hand and pressed her own to her right side. As if this wouldn't help at all, it was just out of reflex than to do any good. She took a moment to take in the building in front of her. A bright red neon sign hung above the entrance, consisting of a wooden double door with small glass windows.
"Welcome to Devil May Cry." Nero grinned a bit shyly as he saw her lift her head to inspect the flashy sign with the blinking letters.
Devon feared the interior would actually resemble that of a very shady bar or worse - a strip club. The younger man had his hand still extended, looking like he was about to catch her, if she would fall. Maybe he was after all a bit more like Dante than he had let on on their meeting earlier. With this in mind, Devon came to highly doubt it would be anything as shady inside as it looked from the outside.
Well, time to find out, she thought as she saw Nero slowly approach the entrance, making sure she was to follow.
She winced, but bit back the groan that threatened to escape her as she took the two steps up to the wooden double door. A warm yellow light greeted her when Nero stepped inside, neatly waiting for her at an arms length to do the same.
Before she could process the interior of the shop a loud noise told them that Dante wasn't far off behind and soon enough the bike came into view and stopped right next to the Camaro. Nero nudged her further in with a gentle push, but waited for Dante to catch up to them.
"What you got there?" Nero asked noticing the plastic bag dangling from Dante's wrist as they all went inside.
"Oh, just a little welcome gift for the lady." He gave a gallant bow. "Thought I get you a little something. So I took a detour."
Devon smiled at him, when she saw it had a green cross on the plastic bag. "That is very considerate of you." She truly was grateful and still very uncomfortable about how much he seemed to care.
"Of course. Some gentleman I'd be if I didn't know what the lady required." He said with a flourish and handed her the bag.
Devon merely chuckled, as she took it. There was a pregnant pause as she waited for something, anything, he would tell her to do. Her eyes strayed to Nero, who appeared to be unsure himself, fiddling with the straps of his hoodie.
Dante took the silence as his cue. "Alright, let's get you patched up then." He softly put an arm around her waist with the attempt to steer her in direction of the wooden staircase and helping her to get onto to the first floor.
Devon froze under his touch. "I think, I can manage myself." The mere thought of having herself exposed to even one of them mortified her. She tried to pry his supporting hands off her waist and Dante immediately let go.
She felt self-conscious suddenly, wounded. Her damn pride yelling at her loud enough to drown out the concerned voices from both men. There was no way she would let them remotely near her to check the beaten and battered state she was in. Dante's former touches had been already grinding down on her nerves, so this time she took an unsteady step away.
"At least let me help you up to the first floor." Dante huffed and looked down on her small hands that had pushed him away. Gently, but still with enough determination for him to step away. He cocked his head and scrutinized her with a deep scowl.
"It's alright." Devon eyed the stairs with a vicious glare. Her pride telling her, she could climb those very well by herself. Nero and Dante exchanged a pointed look when Devon approached the bottom of the stairs and pushed herself to the first step.
Nero was worried and Dante wondered how long she would take to get up to the first floor at all. "Well, suit yourself." The older devil hunter replied amused, but watched her intently nonetheless.
Devon held her breath and dared herself to let even the tiniest whine escape through her clenched teeth. She made it half way up, feeling confident, because she managed the task pretty quickly. Devon mentally congratulated herself on every taken step, until she finally reached the top.
When she turned around with a triumphant grin, she saw the aggravated expressions plastered on both faces. And she wagered, she had been overconfident in the end, for her strength had left her swiftly. And before any of them could catch her she fell down on her butt with an audible thud and a pained groan.
Faster than Dante, Nero had dashed up, eyes wide and lips pressed together in a thin line. She managed to get up only to have her knees buckle under her instantly. But the younger one quickly steadied her with grabbing her arm and draping it arm around his neck, tugging her into his side.
He huffed at her. "Was it really worth it?" But she could hear the grin in his voice and felt relief despite the knowledge of how dumb she acted.
"I guess not." Devon managed to chuckle. She carefully watched herself from leaning into him. This was as close as she would let him ever again. And on top of that she knew, how she looked and smelled. Like the dirty, scruffy street rat she was. She felt humiliated by the thoughts once again.
They made it to the bathroom, quick enough to her liking. Nero let go off her instantly as she extended her hand and opened the door.
Dante had sauntered up behind them, with a slight smirk and shake of his head. "Okay. As much as this was entertaining, just ask for help next time." Devon looked to the floor, abashed and nodded adding a "Yes." in a small voice.
"Okay. Just take a shower then and when you're ready, holler and I'll be there. We'll see to you then. And no arguing, alright. You should no by now, I won't do anything you're not comfortable with. As I recall, I have never given you any reason to doubt me. Have I?" His voice sounded calm, but she could hear a hint of reproach. Devon lowered her head in guilt. "No, no you didn't."
"Well then, take your time. We'll be waiting downstairs." And he simply sauntered off without looking back.
God, this hurt even more than she had anticipated. She was being rude without reason and felt very much sorry for it, because apparently he'd taken some offence in her constantly suspicious behaviour. The last thing she wanted, was to come off as ungrateful.
"I'll get you something to wear in the meantime." Nero said, after he witnessed the scene in discomfort. He stalked off immediately. "I'll drop it by the door and knock." He added over his shoulder and disappeared in what she believed to be his room then.
Devon muttered a thank you, which Nero probably didn't even hear. She slipped inside the bathroom and shut the door locking it in the process, relieved to finally be alone and away from both men.
But when she finally took the heart to face herself in the vanity mirror above the sink a knock came from the door and Nero's muffled voice with it. "Hi..uh. Clothes are in front of the door. Sorry, they're probably way too big."
He sounded awkwardly embarrassed, Devon realized. "It's alright. Thanks, Nero."
"No problem."
"Okay." She replied awkwardly, not knowing, if he would say something else or just leave. Should she say anything? But when silence ensued, she realized he may already have been gone.
She slowly approached the door and leaned against it ever so carefully to not make a sound. All she could hear was her own heartbeat thumping rapidly.
Nothing. Silence. She exhaled in relief and turned to take her first shower in years. Devon almost felt excited about this. But that didn't last very long.
It quickly became a sheer pain to peel away the crusty layers of clothes. But after a few more minutes of squirming and ignored jolts of pain she stood naked in front of the vanity across the old fashioned bathtub with the white shower curtain.
Despite her first look and feel when they stood before the building, everything looked very neat and pretty cleaned up.
Devon reluctantly met her reflection in the mirror with a disgruntled look. Her tired eyes stared back at her. The bruise on her face had turned a faint purple and a hue of blue.
She looked down her body. Despite being dirty she could already see the other bruises had formed. Her fingers and arms were scratched were she had tried to crawl away. Her elbows were scraped open, as much as her knees. And there were blood smears everywhere, because of the clothes she had pulled off.
She let out a sigh indifference. It was nothing. Could have been worse. Much worse.
Before stepping into the old fashioned tub she turned the water on adjusting it to luke warm, not wanting to add burns to the others injuries. And she knew, the moment she stepped under in and under the shower it would hurt like a bitch and she wasn't disappointed.
Devon closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything else than the burning wounds, trying to remain calm and not squirm or jump right back from the water.
And after a few minutes the pain subsided as much and she felt ready to move. Her muscles felt so sore and she contemplated for a moment to adjust the temperature to warm her body up. Biting her lip she did and the hot stream hit her and she couldn't help but let out a low groan. Partly of the pain as the water poured down hotly, but mostly because it felt so damn good.
Devon trembled under the stream. The luxury of a shower was not something she had experienced for so long. She slid down the wall and sat there slumped forward in the middle of the tub and thoroughly started to enjoy the feel of the water hitting all the right spots on her back. Her breath evened out as she relaxed by the minute. Her eyes shut tightly and she arched her sore back even more to feel all the exhaustion and tension getting washed away down the drain along with the grime and blood.
And then she cried. From pain. From joy. From all the harshness of life that was eased away by the simplest of things. Her experience lacked greatly of it, but she knew for now this is what safety felt like. This feeling was thoroughly wrecking her body with sobs, which she didn't even tried to fight.
The warmth that surrounded her wasn't only coming from the water but from the way Dante's eyes had looked at her before. Someone actually cared for her. It hadn't been the brief pitiful look, someone would give her while passing, but would forget about her, as they turned away.
Dante was different. And Nero as well.
There were times when she just felt entirely lost. But she always tried her damnedest to not let it consume her. She would get through it. One way or the other. Like she always had. But those eyes, that had viewed her with strange compassion, had haunted her from their very first meeting on.
She cried harder, if it was even possible. This hurt. It was a bittersweet hurt, and the sudden fear that came with it slowly crept up on her and coated her entire form with the fear of the realization, that she would have to leave these secure walls again. And it weighed heavy on her as soon as this occurred to her.
But for now she was safe, she assured herself, knowing that through the kindness hidden behind those vivid blue eyes. It mattered that they cared. It mattered more than they actually knew.
