I do not own Devil May Cry, its characters, Hollywood Undead or its song "Coming Back Down."
Paranoid and shaken, Nero stumbled back out into the street from the network of alleys he had taken earlier that day. The sun had long been7.8 set, and the city was now engulfed in cool nighttime air, which to the high schooler, seemed more dark and unnerving than ever before. With regret, he turned and let his gaze slide back over the entrance to his new personal Hell. Damn it, he wanted to go back a few hours just to punch himself in the face for doing something so stupid.
Nero trudged in the house, slinging his back pack down on the carpet. He huffed, planning to go up to his room and work on forgetting everything that had happened. Fixing his eyes on the floor, he made his way into the kitchen. It all went downhill from there. He had ran straight into his foster mother.
"Where exactly have you been? You've had your father and I worried sick about you!"
The teenager glanced uneasily at the window, "I... I went with Kyrie to her choir practice. I would've called, but I forgot to."
He winced inwardly when she raised a brow in suspicion. "And you expect me to believe that it lasted that long?"
"She invited me to dinner," he lied, "we were talking and I just lost track of time."
She sighed, still obviously suspicious. "Fine. Just remember to call us next time. Now up to bed with you. School comes early!"
Nero nodded dumbly. She... bought it?
The high schooler hurried up the stairs, and closed the door to his room behind him. With a slow exhale he flopped onto his bed, covering his face with his hands. "What the Hell have I gotten myself into?" The teen sat in silence for a few moments before noticing the taste that was hanging in his mouth. His stomach lurched, and he scrambled into the conjoined bathroom, turning on the faucet. He shoved his face into the sink, taking in mouthfuls of water before spitting them back out. It took only a few seconds for the new Devils member to realize it wasn't working as well as he planned. Nero lunged across the countertop, snatching up his toothbrush. He brushed and brushed until his gums had started to bleed. He breathed shakily in relief. All he could taste was the minty-fresh coolness his toothpaste had to offer.
The teenager slumped and shuffled to his dresser, quickly changing into something that wasn't red. He crawled onto his bed- pulling back the blankets- and collapsed in a miserable heap.
The next morning, Nero woke exhausted and drained. He hadn't slept well through the night. Hell, it took long enough just for him to drift off to sleep. The high schooler had been startled awake by odd nightmares about the gang. To his horror, the majority of them centered mainly around Dante, and a specific event that had taken place late that afternoon. Mainly their warped storylines would illustrate what would have happened if it had went further. The teenager would, upon awaking, bolt up into a sitting position, hand shooting up to cover his mouth as he attempted to regulate his breathing. The taste of the gang leader's essence would surface across his mouth, forcing him to bite down on his lip in order not to vomit. After a little bit, however, his stomach would calm, and he would always release a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Then, Nero would carefully lay back down and situate himself into the smallest ball he could curl into. More than once he hid his face in his hands, repressing the overwhelming urge to cry.
After one of the more graphic dreams, crying sure did sound pretty damn good, but he was a guy. Guys didn't cry. That wasn't right. They were guys for God sakes. Males didn't have tear ducts, he would tell himself, everyone knew that. So he would just have to be strong for himself. He'd find a way out of this... yeah, as long as he started thinking now, he'd get out of it by next week. No problem. It'd be too easy.
By the time Nero had finished his little pep-talk with himself, warm streaks had already marked their way down his reddened cheeks. He rubbed roughly at his eyes, ashamed with himself for being so weak.
Dante would never bawl like some kinda baby about something like this...
Teary eyes snapped open, mortified.
What the- Why the shit did I just think about him?
Nero drug himself out of bed seriously contemplating staying at home but quickly dismissed it as not to cause any trouble between his life at home and the gang. He rummaged through his drawers- avoiding any colors remotely close to red- and decided that grabbing a blue sweatshirt and jeans had to be safe. He then slinked off to the bathroom for a shower.
Once his water was warmed up to a comfortable temperature, the teen peeled out of his clothes. The high schooler slipped under the water, scrubbing his skin thoroughly, hoping to remove any remnants of that place.
After becoming aware of how long he had taken, he turned off the water, almost slipping in his haste to get out and finish getting ready.
Once he was out the door and on his way to school, the teenager starting wondering if he could just skip. Go to the "head quarters" or whatever and get it over with. If he went after school and came home late again, his parents would be suspicious all over again. Wait... He didn't recall Dante ever stating anything about him coming back today. So, it was settled then, he'd just go to school like normal.
Kyrie bounded up, out of nowhere, giving him an over-cheery good morning, successfully startling him out of his thoughts. He offered her a muttered greeting in return.
"Nero... what's wrong? You look down."
"I'm just tired; I didn't sleep too great last night."
The duo settled into an awkward silence, which allowed The teen to fall back into his doubts and second-guesses about his decision. He barely noticed when the auburn-haired girl beside him started talking. The high schooler didn't suspect it was necessarily directed towards him, much rather just used to break the heavy quietness.
Again Nero was shook from his thoughts as they were about to pass the same alleyway he took the day before, a feeling of uneasiness made itself known in the pit of his stomach.
The high schooler tried to desperately focus on the one-sided conversation when suddenly a hand wrapped around his mouth, Nero struggled, and another snaked around his middle, pulling him into the alley.
Kyrie kept chatting on about her friends, the she said this's and he said that's. It took her a couple minutes to notice her companion's presence was missing. She glanced around before completely turning around. "Nero?"
A/N: Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! :) If anyone's wondering, I did. Ate enough to last me a couple weeks, that's for sure! xDD;
I totally forgot about Nero's backpack. well, it makes it's return here. :'D
FFFFFFUUUU- This chapter was also SLOW. Very slow. Painfully slow. And it sucks; it jumps around too much. I'm sorry!
Sorry for saying I'd get new chapters out sooner than usual. I lied.
I'm sorry! Don't hurt me! ;A;
I'm not too sure where the next few chapters are gonna go, and not having quite the hang of writing with Dante and Nero isn't helping at all. xD
But! When the plot actually starts picking up. (Lord hope that's soon!) I might be able to write faster. Maybe. If my laziness stands for it. :/
Okay, school's out for about two more weeks, so hopefully I can write, write and write some more during that time. I would say- "Expect updates soon! (Cue sparkles, thumbs-up, winking, etc.)"But we all know that it'd probably be a lie. OTL
I'm sorry that I'm so lazy, ya'll. :C