Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with Devil May Cry in any official capacity, and am writing this for fun. To prove it, I will make very few spelling errors in the following chapter. (This message not brought to you by 'Capcpom,' makers of Resident Evil 'Revelaitons')
Rating: Eventual M
Pairing: Dante x Nero
Genre: Romance/Humour
Warnings: Yaoi. Language, eventual sexytimes, possible OOC
Summary: Dante seems determined to keep flying around in stupid circles, and Lady's about ready to blast his ass out of the sky. Poor Nero gets to watch while it all crashes and burns. Dante x Nero.
Holding Pattern
by Write-Error
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Chapter 2:
Everybody But Me
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-o-o-O-o-o-
Though my jeans are too tight, I don't feel like dancing
And all this light is too bright, I don't feel like shining
Though this room is too small, I'd rather stand against the wall
And hope that no one sees me
- Lykke Li
-o-o-O-o-o-
.
By the time they reached the doors of the shop, Nero appeared to have returned to sobriety. The few blocks between Love Planet and home had gone by pretty quickly. Nero inhaled the cold night air in deep breaths, and Dante could have sworn that he could hear gears turning inside his skull. Nero's face looked drawn in the flickering red light off the sign.
Dante unlocked the door. It seemed like the younger man had taken his agreement to talk seriously. Maybe he was taking it a bit too seriously. Dante hadn't intended for the kid to go breaking his brain over it. He'd just thought it might help to blast it all out, reload with a fresh clip and hope the bullets flew true afterwards.
It occurred to Dante that he didn't really have any male friends and had pretty much no experience with how to deal with someone when they were upset like this. He could shoot the shit with the best of them. He could get along with anyone if he put his mind to it - well, mostly. There were tons of people who he called on and who called on him for favours.
For the most part, though, Dante liked to keep things on a need-to-know basis. Friendly, but he had a way of smoothly evading imposition without anyone even noticing. He seemed just flaky enough that people didn't feel they could count on him. Just sarcastic enough that people rarely knew when to take him seriously. Exceptions to that comfortable distance - the people who could barge into his day for no real reason - were few. Nero was one-third of that meager number now, and the one Dante was around the most.
He did care about the girls - they were his partners in crime - but he and Lady'd always had petty conflicts, and Trish was pretty cryptic in general and liked to take off for months at a time. The both of them had had their defenses built up long before they ever met Dante. The three of them were built out of similar enough stuff that they got each other. It was a connection that was both prickly and comfortable.
Nero though - he hadn't hardened against the world yet. He was still brave enough to keep that heart of his pinned on his sleeve for all to see. Dante wasn't sure he'd ever truly develop that bitter, protective shell.
He wasn't used to being in a position to look after someone, and it was a total shock to realize he actually wanted to do it - even though the kid would probably try to kick his ass if he knew it.
Anyway, since the girls were the closest Dante could draw from, he wracked his brain. What cheered them up, besides shopping on his dime? Lady and Trish were kind of bad pair to use as a reference, he was now realizing. He imagined that Lady's best day ever would involve heavy ordnance, incendiary devices, and massive demon casualties. She was in a great mood when she was blowing shit up and getting richly compensated for it. Trish was a bit subtler, but she also truly enjoyed violence. Well, that, and driving hot vehicles at roughly twice the speed limit recommended by the Capulet metro area bylaws.
Dante furrowed his brow. Maybe he did actually have guy friends. . .
As for him, he liked to bury whatever problem he had, and distract himself with something cheap and cheerful. That hadn't worked for Nero. Loose women? Inconclusive, but that particular attempt had been a failure - the one they'd run into was off her rocker and was now pissed at him. Booze? It only made Nero sadder, and he started talking like James Joyce narrating a teen drama. Pizza? Candy? Ice cream? Nah. Nero was weird in that he actually had cravings for healthy food like other people had for the crappy stuff.
Dante had learned about that little detail in the most graphic way possible. He'd still been half-asleep, walking into the kitchen in the middle of the morning. It had taken him a few moments to realize he was awake and that the scene before him was actually happening. He'd thought it might be a late-night pizza dream because it was so absurd.
Nero had been standing there, frozen in place, in his boxers and bed-head. He'd had the funniest 'oh shit' expression on his face, clearly knowing how bizarre he looked holding a ridiculously large head of raw broccoli in his devil bringer like an outsized chicken drumstick. It was obvious he'd been ripping into it like some kind of vegetable-eating barbarian. All that had been missing was a large tankard of seaweed juice or whatever, and he would have looked like a pacifist viking who only ate organic produce. Apparently living on pizza made Nero snap violently back in the other direction.
Well, shopping for veggies at one in the morning was just not going to happen. Going looking for a fight would probably not work out well, given that the kid might still be a bit wasted. It looked like the talking plan was all that was left in the barrel Dante'd been scraping. He himself wasn't much of a talker, but he had no problems being the kid's sounding board if that was what it took to get him flying right again. He was, after all, really curious at this point.
The doors of Dante's fine establishment swung inwards with a slight creak. "Home sweet home," he sighed, stomping dust off his boots. Nero followed, letting out a huge yawn. Dante threw his keys at the light-switch on the wall, clicking them on before they fell with a jangle into the dish below.
Dante tossed his coat over the banister before heading to the desk and sitting on it, shoving his sleeves up and watching the kid. Nero had just stopped after closing the doors behind them, staring vacantly at the wall. He looked like an automaton that had run out of juice before reaching his destination.
"Hey. Nero. C'mon, just sit your ass down, and tell me what's going on with you. Then you can go to sleep and be back to giving me personality again. It's just ripping a band-aid off. Let's do this shit, okay?"
Nero straightened up and exhaled. He trudged over to the couch and flopped down on it, leaning his head back and stretching his arms out over the back, legs splayed straight out in front of him. "Yeahhh. . ."
The silence stretched on, with the kid just squinting at the ceiling like it held the mysteries of the universe. Dante drummed his fingers against the wooden desktop.
Finally, Nero sighed, still staring at the ceiling. "So. Fortuna. Man, why the fuck did I even go back there?"
"That's the question of the century," Dante observed. "Why would anyone ever go near that place, unless it was blowing up with demons?"
Nero raised his head to look at Dante and cracked a little smile. Well, that was progress at least.
"Damn right! That Savior bullshit was actually the most excitement that I ever had in all the time I lived there." He raked one hand through his hair. "Ugh, my head's all mixed up. But yeah, that's probably a good place to start."
Dante settled into his chair. "As usual, the party only gets good once I show up."
Nero rolled his eyes. "You just keep thinking that. Anyway, while all that was going down, I was really fuckin' stressed. The Order was going haywire, all these gates were spewing baddies. Kyrie got nabbed, Credo was in way over his head, all that jacked-up science shit - it just went on and on. On top of all that, this totally unkillable guy came out of fuckin' nowhere and shot Sanctus in the face." He smiled. "Though knowing what I do now I'm kind of glad you popped in right then; that old fuck was such a slow talker."
"Yeah, that's me," Dante interjected, jerking a thumb towards his chest with a big cheesy grin. "Always around to help you out. I bet you're glad this unstoppable pile of awesome was helping you out in the end."
Nero snorted, still wearing that little smile. "That's for sure. I was thinking, 'What can I do about this dude? I'm used to being top dog, and scruffy over here is slappin' me around. He's playing with me and I probably can't take him if he gets serious. We're fucked.'" Nero laughed. "Anyway, it was all going to hell and I was sitting in this hand-basket thinking 'ohhh shit' the entire ride.
"But you know what, Dante? Aside from the personal crisis stuff, and yeah that was pretty bad - I was having the time of my fuckin' life! I never had to push myself like that before. I never got to kick so much ass without someone trying to make me toe whatever line they decided to draw that day. I finally got to do things my way without being set up to fail, or being told that I did it wrong, just 'cause I was born wrong in a town full of people who loved being right.
"I'd been buying all the bullshit, you know? Living in these miserable barracks surrounded by these. . . it was sick, you know. Boss-man - Credo - well, he had a working brain, maybe not fully after how things turned out. But so many of the Order dudes couldn't come up with a thought unless ten people agreed with them. Not much individual thinking going on." Nero met Dante's eyes. "I know you like to shit on Fortuna, and I got defensive 'cause it's my hometown. But you're not wrong about it. Sometimes I just wanted to stand on a hill, play a fiddle, and watch it burn."
Dante laughed. "Cute, Nero. So you went back to torch it? Why not ask me to come? I'm pretty sure I got marshmallows somewhere."
"You would, fatty." Nero smirked.
"Heyyyy!" Dante protested. "All of this is muscle!"
"Sure, but you have the biggest sweet-tooth I've ever seen, man. It's insane." Nero shook his head.
"That ain't the biggest thing I got, baby," Dante wiggled his eyebrows, laughing as Nero's entire face puckered in disgust.
"Yeah, I got a view of that, up-close and personal. Thanks. Really life-changing." the kid deadpanned.
Dante held a hand to his heart in mock-hurt. "Okay, okay, fine. Go back to talking about your crappy town instead of how amazing I am already."
Nero exhaled through his nose, brow furrowing. He leaned forward then, closing his eyes and looking more tired than Dante had ever seen him. "Oh shit, I knew it. This is gonna be hard."
Dante, sitting in his desk-chair, steepled his fingers with a serious expression on his face.
Nero narrowed his eyes at the pose, and then looked down at where he was sitting on the retro-looking leather couch. Looking back at Dante, he made a fist with his devil bringer and socked it into his other palm. "Dante, if you start asking how I feel about my mother while recording me or takin' notes, just know I'm going to punch you real hard."
"You could try," the older man grinned, kicking back into his usual posture. "But yeah. That girl of yours, this has to do with her, right? What, did you guys break up or something?"
The younger man remained still, only tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling like it could provide him some kind of answer. "Ha. Not even. Shit - how do I tell you about this without sounding like a loser? I don't even know if it's possible because this whole thing is pretty much about me being pathetic." Their eyes met. "Dante," he sighed, "if you make fun of me with anything I'm about to tell you, I swear to god. . ."
A little sting of hurt twinged in Dante's chest. "What? Kid, you know I wouldn't do that! Man, you really think I'd-?"
Nero looked alarmed. "No. No, I really fuckin' don't, but - I'm sorry, I've been extremely wrong before. A lot, and I'm kinda. . . not trusting myself right now." His anxious blue eyes met Dante's. "I didn't mean to, I dunno - insult you or anything. You. . . you gave me something that was important to you, and even when you're being an ass you always seem to have my back. You've got to know you treat me better than anyone else I've ever met, right? 'Cause you do."
Dante frowned. "You know, I'm not getting the impression that's a real high bar right now," he replied.
Nero snorted in response. "Probably not. I'm sorry for implying you're gonna dick me over, I just never talked about this shit to anyone, ever. I'm kinda paranoid, okay?"
"Yeah, I'm seein' that. Fuck kid, I just want to help."
Dante was unprepared for the look he got back. Nero looked really vulnerable at that moment - injured, about to expose his soft underbelly so someone could help him get a thorn out, desperately hoping he wouldn't be eviscerated for making the wrong call.
God. He just wanted to grab him up in his arms and tell him everything was going to be okay, but that probably wouldn't be well-received.
"Kyrie and me - well, I'm kinda unsure as to whether we were actually together." His shoulders lifted in a listless shrug. "There wasn't much of anything to break in the first place, I guess."
Nero looked really frustrated, a bitter smile twisting his lips as he got tangled up in his own thoughts. It was strange how it was affecting Dante, too.
Now that he'd gotten him talking, the older man didn't want him to stop until everything was better again. He had an infected wound and it was going to be cleaned out, right fucking now - no matter how messy it got. "Hey, you don't need to get worked up. I've got nothing but time right now. You don't even need to make sense - just go for it."
Nero looked at Dante and sighed. "Okay, remember a while back? You were talking about how people just get on this course, and that course can be hard to change, right?"
"Yeah," Dante encouraged. "Routines happen."
The kid nodded. "Yeah. It's not just how you act, it's how you think, too. You see things the way you've gotten used to seeing them."
Nero looked over at Dante with a pensive frown on his face. "Guess if I've gotta talk about going back, I should talk about leaving. I didn't tell you before, but when I first left Fortuna, and before I showed up here - I had no plan. I basically got Queenie, Blue Rose, whatever I could carry - and I just flat-out ran. If the ferry hadn't been there to take me I probably would've found a way to swim the crossing. It was pure luck that I had a bit of money on me that day to get me from point A to point B.
"I wandered around for a couple of weeks before I arrived here, you know. Town to town, taking bounties for cash, no real goal. Crashing wherever I could. That's what I was doing the past few days too. Just. . . trying to figure out my shit, killing demons 'cause moving my body helps clear my fucking head out.
"Anyway, yeah. I'd left Fortuna. I'd been on the road for a while. Just going from place to place and taking it in - typical guy from the sticks, overwhelmed by the world. And then, when I arrived at Capulet city limits, I could just tell you were here. So I somehow managed to track you down. You weren't horrified to see me - even said I could stay and help out - and it just. . . clicked.
"Like I said, the whole Savior incident unlocked something inside me. You and Trish. You two showed up, doing things on your own terms. Not really human - I could smell it on you. I guess I recognized that we were alike, right off the bat. But the more I ran into you, the more I realized me and you, we weren't anything alike. You had your own goals, your own reasons for doing shit. You ran your own life.
"This is gonna sound so stupid, but I'd never thought I would have control over my life. I was used to getting into shit with the Order for not following their rules. I was always bucking the reins. But, even though I was gonna struggle all the way down, I was also resigned that - well, that was gonna be my life. That was just the way the world worked in my head. Orphans raised up in Fortuna - we owe service to the town once we're grown. I was sent to be the Order's ward and eventually join up with them specifically. 'Cause I was the white haired devil-kid, the freak, and I guess I was gonna need to be kept in line, you know?"
Yeah, Dante knew all about that.
"Anyway, it's like some loose form of - what's it called - indentured servitude? No, that's too harsh. Maybe it's a leftover from the feudal way of doing things. After everything they gave you, you've gotta give back. It can really suck depending on where you end up, but most people wouldn't have the balls to say 'fuck this' and leave - even if no one would really stop them. Fortuna, it's. . . the people there don't even try to make it outside, 'cause the outside world is so evil and bad, the way they tell it. I don't remember hearing of anyone in my situation ever leaving.
"So, all my life, I'd had this road in front of me. I had nothing else, I knew nothing else, so it was probably gonna happen no matter how I kicked and screamed. Maybe I'd settle down if I could find a girl who could stand me. Maybe I wouldn't be too miserable if I played my cards right and worked like a fuckin' dog. But those were just details - I'd boarded that train and wasn't one I even thought I could get off of."
Nero looked up at Dante, fingers curling and uncurling against the upholstery out of nervousness.
"Then - it's like in stories. A stranger comes to town and everything changes - you know the drill. You came to town. It shook me up - but something weird happened. I. . . changed. I became the stranger, after you guys left. I didn't know which way was up anymore. Everything in me was telling me something was wrong about being there, and it got louder and louder."
Nero squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his face. "I was waking up every night, it felt like something was crushing me down. I couldn't breathe there. I felt like I was gonna die. My leaving wasn't even a decision, it's like - you know, when you accidentally grab something that's hot enough to burn you. Your body says, 'I'm letting go of that thing right fucking now, no negotiations.' The pain hits your nerves, your reptile brain immediately knows you're in contact with something that's messing you up, and it grabs the wheel. Your muscles move. You do it.
"Once I realized I'd taken off in the night like a lunatic, I thought about making contact with someone and giving some bullshit excuse - keeping that door open - but I just froze. For one thing, I didn't want to go back. Just the thought of it made me lock up. And for another, who the fuck would I call? The Order was in a shambles, I had no one to report to, it was like a bunch of headless chickens up in there. Plus, since it turned out they'd been manufacturing and summoning demons to keep themselves in business, I figured it would be the same old fuckin' story." Nero laughed, a little bitter. "The one factory in town shuts down? Well you can sit there pining for the plant's glory days and talking about the fine time you had back when there was food to eat. Or you can fucking move on, right?
"There was one person I could've called, but I didn't. I didn't call her. When I think of it now, I think I might have been trying to test her. It's not like she doesn't have my number - she's actually the only person in the entire world who has my fucking number, now that boss-man's gone. I hadn't thought I'd break her heart, but I thought she'd at least try to find out what happened to me." Nero paused, like he was trying to search for words.
"Have you ever needed someone so bad, but you just weren't good enough? Not like you have to meet some kind of standard. I mean, feeling that you're, what's that word. . . that you're innately dirty and beneath them, and there's not a hope in hell that that will ever change? I always felt like that, as long as I could remember. That was my normal."
Dante had been trying to keep a lid on it, but he couldn't contain his wince. "Kid. . . Nero, you know you're not-"
"This is not my favorite conversation ever, so please don't stop me, Dante. I just-" Nero pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to relax. He shook his head as though to clear it, and seemed to steel himself before continuing.
"Yeah. Anyway, you know I tend to talk like I'm hot shit. I got used to doing that 'cause people thought they could just grind me down if I gave them anything to work with - but I do know I've got problems. I'm rude for no reason. Quick-tempered. I get too emotional. I don't think things through. I have issues with authority and I'm a bit of a shit-magnet. I got smacked down right away for anything I did wrong in the Order, so it's not like I don't know I did a lot wrong, all the time. But the feeling of being the crap someone scraped off their shoe, that I'd never be good enough for anyone - that was all because of my arm. I got good at hiding the number it did on me, but it wasn't gonna go away.
"So, Kyrie, ever since I met her - well, I needed to try really hard all the fucking time. Not because she ever asked for it, but because I needed to make it up to her. Buying her things when I could afford it, doing stuff she wanted to do, going to the shit she wanted me to be at even if it bored me to death - it just seemed natural she'd be ashamed of me. That she wouldn't be able to hold her head up. I needed to make it worth her while.
"Anyway, after my freak-out escape plan, after getting some space, I figured I should go back and see her. Being here and workin' with you - I think and see differently. Sometimes I feel like I've been wearing a blindfold all my life. I needed to take a good look at what I left there, and confirm what I'd been thinking about lately about Kyrie and about that place. So I went back, and as it turns out, it sucks being right.
"It makes me sick that I bought into all that crap! I'm angry at myself. I wasted so much effort, tried so hard, felt like shit for no good reason except that they told me to. It's sad that I would have just swallowed it, you know? That feeling of being filth and somehow soiling Kyrie by loving her when I wasn't at her level - I would have sucked it up and lived with it all my fucking life if it had only been in my head. But what I saw when I went back was that Kyrie bought it too, all that time. It wasn't a conscious thing, but it's there. She probably couldn't help it, so I can't even be mad. It's not like we ever hashed anything out, but I spent a lot of time with her when I was on Credo's leash. I had hopes.
"Since I met her, I figured she was the only person I could be with. When I say that, it sounds all big and romantic, like soul-mates and shit. In reality though, it's depressing because I do mean it literally. She was the only one in that entire town who even tried to talk to me like I was a person. If it wasn't gonna be her, it wasn't going to be anyone, you know? I guess I latched onto that. I couldn't handle the idea that I might always be alone. I'm not strong enough to take all the shit without having one person who could make me feel like it was worthwhile. But, to her, I was this guy her brother had a use for and I was obviously not well-liked. She'd be a good person and be different and spend time with me. That really fucking stings my pride. Pinning all my hopes on someone who thought of me like that.
"I saw it, this time around. She looks at me like. . . like some stray dog she'd been looking after. I stopped showing up, she thought maybe I'd found a better deal and was glad for me. Then I was back and she was petting me again. Guess the Savior thing shocked her - her doggy had really been a wolf all that time and she finally figured out why everyone hated it, but when it turned out that it came through for her anyway, it was back to the same. The way she feels, it could be anyone. I might as well not even have been there, you know? She had this role in mind and I could fill it. Any sweetness she gave me was because. . . she is the sort of person who was big enough to be kind to some asshole no one else cared for. And as for me, wasn't I the same? Latching onto the one girl who could stand me, putting her in that role just 'cause the illusion kept me going. And it was all in my head.
"Anyway, that's what I figured out. She acted exactly the same. I was the different one. I finally got that just 'cause she was nice to me didn't mean she wanted me. Got my eyelids ripped off and it hurt like a bitch. When everyone looks at you like you're inferior, you stop seein' it, but I'm not used to it anymore. If I stayed there, that's all I'd ever have seen.
"The funny thing is that all the shit I had to put up with was because of this guy right here." Nero flexed the fingers of his devil bringer. "And why exactly? It's some evil deformity? Like it's the mark of some sin I committed? It's all bad and wrong, being all hand-shaped all the time?" Nero scowled. "You know what, I'm tired of caring about that shit. I'm getting to like this thing."
Dante smiled when the dim glow from Nero's hand flared a little brighter as he said those words, like it was saying 'hi.'
"If those dickbags weren't making me feel so shitty about it all the time, I would have been a lot more useful. How the hell does someone feel superior to a dude who can hand them their ass with one arm all bound up and the other givin' them the finger? I smacked motherfuckers around way better than they ever could. People see this baby and think I'm fuckin' defective or something. . ."
Nero and leaned forward, elbows propped up on his knees, mouth pursed like he was looking for the words. "I'm not saying I'm going to be showin' it off to every idiot I meet, but I'm trying not to feel like I need to hide it. I don't wanna feel like it's my problem if people gawk at it. I mean obviously, it's different. People are gonna look cause it's flashing and whatever. It ain't personal. I'm hoping someday, there's someone who can learn to deal with it and want me anyway." His jaw set in a firm line. "I'm done with the self-flagellating bullshit, man. Fuck it, seriously - and fuck that whole goddamned town."
With that, Nero relaxed, sort of melting back against the backrest of the couch, arms slack at his sides. He heaved a gigantic sigh. "Man. I can't believe I bitched for so long." He rubbed his temple and got to his feet, shifting his weight awkwardly, reddening slightly in the dim room. "Fuckin' embarrassing. Anyway, that's it. I hope it's enough, Dante, because I'm done for and I think I'm already hung over." He bit his lip and then looked over at Dante, rubbing his nose. "And, uh, thanks for pushin' at me and listening to me whine. I do feel better now after all."
Shit. The relief Dante felt, seeing that Nero was going to be okay, was amazing. He stood and approached where the younger man stood. "I'm glad you made it out of that place. You know you're welcome here for as long as you want to stay, right? I got you, kid. Don't worry about anything."
Before Dante could get in close enough to pull his new favourite move, Nero got him with a fist in the ribs. He looked at Dante, exasperation all over his face. "Dude, that is not gonna work on me anymore. How many times do I have to tell you? Even if you don't smell, having my face in your pit is not as amazing as you seem to think."
And then, Dante's eyes widened in surprise. Nero was. . . actually giving him a hug. An honest to goodness hug, even if it was quick. In fact, the whole thing was over and Nero was back where he'd been before Dante could react to it at all.
Dante's brain was scrambling to catch hold of vague sensory impressions after the fact. The rough edges of Nero's bringer catching at the back of his shirt and pulling it taut. A solid press of warmth holding him. The light brush of hair against his cheek, warm breath across his earlobe and neck.
The faint smell of beer, and Nero.
Goddamn it, Dante's heart hurt.
"Thanks, Dante. It means a lot." The kid was smiling - a rare shy smile - as he rubbed at his nose again. "But I guess you know that now."
.
-o-o-O-o-o-
.
"'Dongface attacks!'" Dante laughed, jostling Nero. "Somehow, reading that just never gets old."
Nero smirked, buttons clicking under the thumb of his bringer. "Yeah, this game ain't that amazing. The name you gave our guy is a huge improvement. It just adds a little extra something."
Dante replied modestly. "I'd love to take the credit, but with a nose like that, the poor bastard basically named himself." Nero was lying across the couch, one foot propped up on the end armrest, the other resting on the floor, and the kid was using his thigh as a pillow. They had just kind of ended up that way after Dante had kept insisting he couldn't see what was going on on the portable game console screen.
"Oh, hey," Dante observed with mild interest. "Check that out. There's a cave. Go in, go in!"
Nero frowned. Dongface, their fearsome warrior, paused on the screen. "I dunno. That farm guy said we needed something before going there. You've gotta remember that the Dante in this game isn't you. It's this little healing girl who carries a stick. She's lame, man. Goes down in one hit."
Real Dante felt strangely offended. "Yeah, and about that, punk - I still don't get why I'm not the archer guy."
"Oh, you mean Nero, who is totally awesome? Why wouldn't you be him? Oh right, that's 'cause while I'm driving, I call the shots!" He started chuckling to himself, obviously getting way too high on power.
Dongface had gotten into another fight. The shift of Nero's arms as he played had caused the hood of his thin dark grey knit sweater to slip down, and the collar gaped slightly. Dante caught himself looking at the little hollow of Nero's collarbone and shoulder – cream-pale, glowing like a secret in the shelter of the fabric.
Nero's thumbs clicked away furiously, distracting Dante from his contemplation as their turn came to attack. The older man watched as the white mage contributed jack shit to the war effort.
Damn. Seriously?
The last blob disappeared, and the little archer twirled in a victory dance.
"I wanna be that guy," Dante repeated.
"Okay then. Here you go." Nero reached up, holding the console in front of Dante's face.
The older man batted it back, irritated. All those stupid freaking buttons - he didn't have time to learn that shit. "No Nero, you keep doing the drone-labour. I'm the executive decision-guy here."
"Sure thing, boss-man," Nero grinned.
"Then check out that cave," Dante persisted. He needed to get something out of this. "I bet there's some good gear in there - maybe even a gun!"
The younger man's nose wrinkled as he tilted his head back and looked up at Dante, upside down. "Riiight. I doubt that, but fine." Dongface and company disappeared into the darkness.
"I thought it would be cooler," Dante grumbled, taking in the unimpressive new environs. "It's just brown with some rocks."
"Yeah. I hate this maze crap. Looks exactly like that stupid mine." Nero moved Dongface around aimlessly. "Oh hey! A chest."
The older man brightened, fingers curling into Nero's hair as he leaned in, trying to see better. "Please, please be a gun for Dante. . ."
As Dongface moved towards the treasure, the screen started to morph. Another fight. Nero froze. "Wait. Look at this!"
Dante peered at the screen. "This chicken thing is Level 20! Are we fucked?"
"Yeah, you could say that. Dongface is level 9. . ." Nero moved through the action menus quickly. "Escape, escape. . ." he muttered.
The little white blob that was Dante's alter ego collapsed to the ground.
"Shit!" Nero yelped.
"There's no way I'm fuckin' dead - did anything even touch me, or did I just go down from being breathed on?" Dante was pissed. "This shit's so unrealistic. I could totally take that huge cave-chicken. Two ticks and it would be on the goddamn rotisserie."
"Shit, we can't escape," Nero gritted his teeth. "It's our last stand!" he announced with determination.
"The only items we have are. . . leaves? Do those even do anything?" Dante watched the pixelated carnage unfold, somehow invested even though this game so far had been pretty fucking boring. "Dongface is down." He tugged on the kid's hair a little. "Nero, you're all we have left! Use the leaves - marinate and skewer that piece of shit for killing me. Vengeance!"
"Fuck fuck fuck," Archer Nero bit the dust. "Fuck." The younger man froze suddenly. "Aw, crap. Dante. When did we last save?"
The older man heard the door open and didn't bother looking up. Lady had been over all the time, getting Nero to help her out over the past week. She'd probably come by to snatch the kid away again. He tilted his head, trying to recall. "I think it was after that fight with the worm. Or maybe right before it."
Nero muttered a bunch of curses and then put the console down with a sneer. "Well, fuck this! Even Dongface couldn't save this game - no way we're doing all of that again."
"Fuckin' A," Dante agreed, smoothing his fingers through Nero's hair solemnly. "Farewell Dongface. We hardly knew ya, but your nose looked like a dong. And thus, we dubbed you. . . Dongface."
Lady came to a stop in front of them, removing her shades and looking at them askance. "Do I even want to know what you two are talking about?" She took in their positions, one hand settling on her hip. "Or what you're doing?"
Nero held the console up to show her the big GAME OVER. A disgusted-sounding, "Ugh, piece of shit chicken asshole," was all he offered in explanation.
She shrugged. "Right, nevermind. So, ready to go, Nero? Today's mark is on the move. The quicker we get to the last known location, the less time we'll need to search."
"Sure, Lady. I'll be ready in a sec." Nero sat up and swung his legs down, before jumping to his feet and stretching. Dante frowned. "I've just gotta go get my coat and Queenie."
Lady placed a sheet of paper on the desk. "Here's a job for you if you want to take it, Dante."
He just shrugged, slouching further into the couch as he shot a considering look at the abandoned console. Dongface still had so many crappy, monotonous adventures to go on. Somehow that game seemed a lot more fun when productive activities were available for comparison.
"Come on, it actually looks like a good one this time around. You'll be flat broke if you don't," Lady continued pointedly.
"Well," Dante rejoined, "That might not be so much of a problem if you weren't here every other damned day putting the screws to me, would it?"
"Dante," she said irritably, "at least take a look at it."
He leaned his head back in resignation before getting to his feet and heading for the desk to check out the details she'd left. He guessed he didn't really have anything better to do anyway, what with Nero out on a job, too.
"Hey, Dante," Nero called as he stomped back downstairs with Red Queen on his back. "What kinda job you got?"
"Clearing out some abandoned house 'cause the demons are wrecking the neighborhood," he said. "Should be a couple of hours, maybe more if it's far."
"Right, so around dinner time," Nero replied, flipping Blue Rose's chamber open to check she was fully loaded, and shoving some ammo into the pouch on his hip. "If I get home before you do, I'll order up a pie."
A grin spread across Dante's face – Nero's pizza orders never came with olives on them. "Hell yeah, that's what I'm talking about! Later, kid."
Lady lifted a hand in farewell, and then they were both out the door.
Dante stretched and started getting his gear together.
Ebony and Ivory, check. Coyote, check. Rebellion, check. Dante slipped into his coat, whipping the red leather out behind him as he turned to leave, the slip of paper with mission information in hand.
"Hope it's a decent party," he muttered to himself as the doors swung shut behind him.
.
-o-o-O-o-o-
.
After Dante turned his bike onto Slum Street, the sun was just making its way down. He was filled with a curious eagerness to get home. He parked his baby, and made his way around the front of the building. He was pleased to note the doors were unlocked. It looked like Nero had gotten back first, meaning. . .
Ahhh, yes. The smell of pizza greeted him as soon as he stepped inside. "Kid, what did you get me?" he called as he set his gear to the side and made his way into the main room before rolling to a halt.
"Oh. Lady, you're still here. Hanging out. Like a pal. I guess you do that now." He looked around the room again. "Where's Nero at?"
Lady tossed her hair back at the lackluster greeting, giving Dante her usual semi-glare from where she was sitting on the couch. The tv was on, and a few half-empty take-out containers lay scattered around it - it looked like they had picked up some mexican food before coming back.
"Why hello, Dante. Yes. I'm still here. Hanging out." She gave him an exasperated look. "Nero's in the shower - we just got in a little while ago and he was a mess. How was your mission?"
"Not bad, it was a pretty good time - there was a big one shacking up in there that had some nice tricks. The place was abandoned too so no worries about property damage, either. Nero would've had a blast. Oh, and the pay was great."
Her eyebrow lifted slightly, like she was looking to say something but was waiting for Dante to figure it out and prove he wasn't stupid.
"What? For the love of all that's holy, at least let me eat before you shake me down," he muttered, heading to his desk to open the pizza box. "Oh awesome, it's still hot." He grabbed a slice and took a huge bite, closing his eyes and chewing in bliss. Mmm. Double pepperoni, extra cheese. That was the good stuff.
He swallowed. "So how was your job?"
Lady shrugged, taking a sip from the bottle of soda she was holding. "Went well, nothing too rough - though that's probably thanks to Nero."
"Yeah?" Dante started in on another slice, leaning on the edge of his desk.
"Mmhm. He pulls the enemies off me, gives me room to work at range. I have to admit, I was a bit hesitant about him at first - what with him having devil blood and that huge freaking attitude. But that arm of his is pretty amazing, and he's just a good guy when it comes down to it." She blinked up at Dante. "I approve."
Dante grunted at that one. "Well I'd hope so. You've been dropping by all the time to drag him out with you. It would sure be pitiful if he spent that time being nervous 'cause of you silently projecting hatred at him like you tend to do."
A damp-haired Nero was heading down the stairs, wearing a white wife-beater and a pair of blue pajama bottoms. "Oh hey Dante, you're back," he greeted as he settled back on the couch and pulled his legs up under him. He looked around him at the takeout containers, found his enchiladas, and started munching. "So how was it?"
"Good good, you would have liked the baddie in there. You wouldn't have liked how it smelled, but it definitely wasn't lookin' to just lie down and die."
Nero smirked. "Heh. Sounds like another good day at the seniors' center."
Dante narrowed his eyes as the little punk continued to smirk at him. "Why you little-"
Lady brought a hand up to cover her mouth, shaking her head as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"I'll have you know we're pretty much the same fucking age, Lady, so this brat's calling you an old dried-up bag by extension. Help me out here."
"No I'm fucking not!" Nero glanced over at Lady, looking a little nervous.
"It's fine Nero," she replied, taking another sip of soda and glancing between the two men with her unsettling eyes. "Dante's old man status has so little to do with age, anyway."
"Uh huh." Dante was more pissed than usual at being called old, and then being talked about like he wasn't even there at all. He was taking Lady down with him, goddamn it. "At least I'm not bitter like this one over here. Where does all that rage come from? In addition to gradually drying up, she's probably all sexually frustrated from not gettin' any, which might explain why she's so damned bitch-"
As the bullet tore through his brain pan and before consciousness faded away, Dante reflected that he really should have known better than to go there.
.
-o-o-O-o-o-
.
Coming back to himself was a slow process. It was always like the world's worst surprise after getting shot in the head. Yeah, it was truly magical - discovering what degree of paralysis he was gonna be dealing with, and which of his senses were going to be totally boned for a few minutes. It depended a lot on where the bullet had ripped through the old grey matter. One time, everything had smelled like bacon for about half an hour.
At the moment, there was a weird fuzz over Dante's perception. He tried to move, but couldn't. Sounds were coming through to him - but though he did register that they were speech, the noises didn't come together to form units of meaning. He did, however, know that one of those voices was Nero. The loud tone and rapid-fire cadence of his voice let Dante know that he was upset - emotion really coloured the sounds coming out of him.
Dante wanted to reach out, reassure him, but. . . oh, nothing was working. Dante would just have to sit tight and cool his heels until his faculties returned.
It seemed like he was lying on something soft. He picked up a familiar smell, taking a while to identify it. Leather. The couch, then. Nero had probably moved him.
As though from a long distance away, Dante's brain was finally catching the sounds, putting them together with the words, assigning them to the voices. It was like they faded back in after fading out, even though Dante had been able to hear them the entire time. God. This experience was fucking jarring as hell. He'd never gone fuckin' aphasic from being shot in the head before, and he didn't much like it.
"-off it, either you're in or you're out. And settle down. He won't die, you know - he'll just sleep for a bit. I probably couldn't kill him if I tried. And let's be honest, he really was asking for it that time."
"You see what I'm saying though, don't you?" The kid sounded on edge. Talking to Lady would do that to a guy. "Dante being a jackass isn't anything new, but. . . Do I really need to be telling you that this is fucking mental? You need to-"
"Oh, so you think you can tell me what I need to do, little boy?" There was something weird about Lady's tone. Was she. . . teasing the kid? It did seem like she'd really taken to him, because for Lady to drop her work work work attitude to be this friendly was pretty damned unusual.
"What? No way!" Nero sounded extremely alarmed that Lady might take offense.
There was a weird pause, and then a click of the safety going back on. Dante tried to roll his eyes, but even that wasn't working out yet. That woman loved waving her weapons around so much, you'd think she was a short man with a complex. "Maybe it's different in your little church town. Around here, you either deal or get the hell out. You're not my family or my lover, so shut it - you don't get to tell me what to do."
Nero barked a laugh. "Like you'd let me tell you what to do even if I was your lover. Holy crap, just thinking about pulling some 'you must obey your man' shit on you makes my balls shrivel - it's fucking terrifying!"
"Damn straight, I like the way you think." She lowered her voice slightly. "So, how about it? You get to choose between route A or route B, but either way, I'm getting where I'm going." She laughed.
Nero's voice was thick with mirth and he was teasing her right back. "So you don't play games you can't win, huh?" The kid's voice went all low and husky. "Maybe you should pack up your toys and go home then, 'cause I'm pretty sure I can take whatever you are gonna dish out and give it back harder."
It just kept getting more confusing.
"But seriously," Nero continued, "Is there something wrong with the water in this town? You're all crazed. I'm starting to think I should switch to bottled."
Lady laughed at that. "Oh c'mon, you know you love it here. Big city, bigger monsters. If not, you'd still be in that podunk village. So?"
"I still think you're fuckin' mental," Nero said sincerely. He laughed again. "But, you are pretty fun to hang with, so. . ." his voice took a wicked turn. "You're sooo welcome to try me."
Shit was rapidly slotting together in Dante's healing brain, and. . . wait.
What in the actual fuck was he hearing?
Dante frowned internally. Had Nero and Lady really been on that many missions together lately? Had they been flirting like this the entire time without him knowing? Finding out that something of this magnitude had snuck up on him made him uneasy. He didn't like it when relationships changed.
And he hadn't known Nero had it in him to be so suggestive. To be honest, he felt kind of cheated. All the fun he could've had. . .
Lady was following up, sounding positively sadistic. "Oh, I'll try you, all right - you'd better be up for it. Don't come to me crying when you're all worn out with screws coming loose."
By this point, Dante was pretty sure he was hallucinating or something. The kid had been right; getting shot in the head was not good for anybody, even if they could heal it up quick. If he had to go live in a padded room, he swore he was going to start making weird crafts. Portraits made out of macaroni, twigs, dead bugs, and human hair. Yeah, that would do the trick. He was gonna send everything he made to Lady, and he was planning to be prolific.
Nero was laughing. "You're so ridiculous. There is no fuckin' way. If you were looking for someone who'd back down from a challenge, you picked the wrong guy."
"Prove it then. You owe me a good time, and I'm calling it in - we're going out tonight."
"Huh? I was actually gonna chill and maybe have some beers with Dante. I think there's a kung fu thing on tv later that I wanted to catch."
Dante grinned to himself. Yeah, down with Lady's ticking, uterine time-bomb! She could just take her weird hormonal bullshit and shove it up her a-
"Whatever! You can do that anytime. Maybe Dante will want to come too. He's probably about ready to spit that bullet out by now."
"Do you even know how fuckin' sick it is that you're familiar with the time it takes for him to recover from a head-shot?" Nero asked with disbelief saturating his voice.
Aw, the kid really cared.
"Whatever, forget about him. Come on, sweetheart." Dante barely suppressed a shudder. Hearing an endearment spill from Lady's lips was worse than watching god-knows-what spill from a hell-gate. "You can't tell me you aren't at least a little interested in what we've got for entertainment in the city. I bet all you had in Fortuna were pubs full of old-timers."
Damn that woman for taking advantage of how Nero was used to living in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. Luring him in with promises of big city lights so she could jerk him around by his hard-on? This felt a bit like someone luring a child into a van with candy.
Nero made a rueful noise. "Not even. Fortuna's officially a dry town. There's this one place running, but I heard someone went blind after drinking there." He laughed. "Strangely, it's not all that popular."
And damn Fortuna for once again proving it was a fancy-looking village to which all the other villages' idiots had migrated for safety in numbers. Not only did they not appreciate Nero, they weren't even smart enough to bootleg like normal people and instead were using their limited mental capacity to make moonshine. For fuck's sake, the next town was a boat ride away. Dante would not be surprised to hear their local customs included marrying siblings, sacrificing children by lottery, and eating excrement. His dear old dad really had run one huge dud of a town.
"And besides," Nero went on earnestly, "I already went to Love Planet with Dante last weekend, and I'm. . . uh, kind of not interested in going someplace like that again."
"Fuckin' Dante!" Lady growled under her breath. "That ass. Of course he'd bring you there. Trust me Nero, he wouldn't know a decent club if he got hit over the head with one. Love Planet is a dive. Easy, sleazy and cheesy - which happen to be Dante's keywords when it comes to entertainment."
What the hell was with this character assassination going on? He and Lady were going to have to have some words.
Nero was laughing. "Well, all that aside, I think I wrecked Dante's evening, and then I kept him up the rest of the night talking at him about depressing bullshit. He probably wouldn't want me along anyway. I don't wanna stop you guys from having fun. I'll just stay home."
The damn kid seriously thought he wasn't fun? What a load. It wasn't Nero's fault Love Planet had been a losing proposition that night, or that he'd had a crappy life happen to him.
"Nero honey," Lady said in a sweet tone that Dante hoped he'd never hear from her again. "Don't you worry. There is absolutely no way you could possibly ruin the fun I'm about to have." Then, she was back to business. "C'mon, show me where you keep your clothes. I'm gonna find something for you to wear."
"I'd really rather stay-"
"What's this, Nero? You scared or something?" Lady goaded.
Oh, shit. Game over.
A pointed silence fell, and then Dante heard Nero heave a sigh. "Fine! I know when I'm beat - let's do this."
Dante had a very, very bad feeling - and it wasn't just the bullet that was working its way out of his head.
.
-o-o-O-o-o-
AN - So Nero finally gets to talk. I was torn. On one hand, it's kinda cheap to just have him spew it all up. On the other hand, if I went by the book and showed Dante sniffing it all out, I would have died of old age. This is really the only time we will get to see what's in Nero's head, so I let it go because I need to learn to chill the fuck out. Hope it came out okay.
My previous experiences writing multi-chapters have been in big fandoms - I've catastrophically overestimated how much pressure I'd get to stay on top of this and I'm kinda losing my groove. My self-motivation is poor, so the new tactic is to try to write really fast in the hopes that the story is done before I am. Ha! Optimism. . .
Corrections, comments, and criticism are welcome as always. Thanks to the reviewers for kicking my ass - you're lovely!
-Volpa
Edit - I discovered when trying to proofread on my iPod that entire punctuation marks were going missing in mobile version! Smart-quotes and em-dashes were not appearing. I think it's been fixed, but what a bitch! Sorry if people were thinking I was barely literate. Any incompetence left at this point should mostly be my own.