Kyrie was up and preparing lunch by the time they returned to the house. "Welcome back," she called, leaning out into the hall from the kitchen. Her eyes slid past Lady and Nico to fix on Nero, and her lips pursed into a pout. "You owe me something, mister. You know the house rules!"

It took him a second to work out her meaning. "Oh, yeah, I do. Sorry. I didn't want to wake you." He planted a solid kiss on her mouth. "And here's the interest." Another kiss followed.

Lady waited until they separated between arching her eyebrows. "Do these rules apply to everyone? Because I like all of you, but I'm not sure I'm prepared to go that far."

"I wish," Nico put in loudly. Lady turned to stare at her, and Nico flushed red. "Uh. No, I meant… Not you. Not that I wouldn't, I mean, I totally would if you… but that's not… Not that I really meant Kyrie, either, because she's not… uh… never mind."

Nero rolled his eyes at Nico before answering Lady's question. "House rules state that the person leaving for work always gives the person staying home a goodbye kiss. The rule does not apply to guests, and definitely does not apply to Nico."

"Can't blame a girl for tryin'," Nico sulked. "Got more chance o' bein' struck by lightnin' than findin' a decent date on this boring-ass island. If I didn't smoke, my lips would curl up an' die from lack o' use."

"With as much as you talk?" Nero snorted. "Your lips will probably outlive the rest of you."

"Oh, hush, both of you." Despite the shadows that hung beneath her eyes, Kyrie seemed refreshed after her nap. She ushered them into the kitchen, where Trish was already seated at the table, paging through another magazine she'd found somewhere. "Lunch is almost ready. I'm sorry it's nothing fancy. I was going to go to the market yesterday, but with everything that happened, I didn't have the chance."

"Yeah, the hospital thing sort of stole your whole day. I'll hold down the fort here if you want to run the rest of your errands today." Nero glanced up at the clock. "Unless you're still planning on going in to the orphanage?"

She shook her head. "I called last night to tell them I wouldn't be in today, and Sister Gratia said they would just close the office. Apparently Sister Harriet still isn't well, so they're understaffed. They've been trying to recruit more volunteers from the community, but no one's able to put the time in just now."

That only made Nero feel worse about interfering with Kyrie's work. "Well, at least the next couple of weeks should be quieter. Near as we can tell, the Nilepoch's running on a thirteen-day cycle."

Trish looked up from her magazine. "Oh, good. That means I can be in on the kill. I should be back up to fighting speed by then, especially with all the rest I'll be getting at the hospital."

"I explained about Gigi," Kyrie said. "Trish has kindly agreed to watch over her."

"It keeps me safely out of the reach of children," Trish added dryly. Her eyes flicked to Nero. "Are you sure the pizzeria delivers there?"

"Positive." Nero squeezed past Kyrie to the sink and began to scrub his hands vigorously. He could tolerate a little dirt or demon blood coming in contact with his food, but who knew what kind of chemicals or disease agents he might have picked up in Agnus's lab. "Hey, how are the twins doing? Have they been up at all?"

"I checked on them a little while ago. Rosso was still a little jumpy, but he calmed down after I sat with him for a few minutes. I gave him some warm milk and read him a story, and eventually he went back to sleep. But Zaffiro…" Kyrie bit her lip. "He seems more responsive, but he's still not speaking. I was able to get him to drink a little water, though. I'm hoping food will help." She flipped the cheese sandwich she was toasting in the skillet. "Grilled cheese is the panacea of many childhood ailments."

"It always worked on me," Nero agreed. "You want me to take it in to them?"

"They've been in bed all morning. It might be best to get them up and dressed, if you can. Otherwise they won't sleep well tonight."

Given how traumatic their dreams had been, Nero wasn't sure the boys would ever sleep well again, but he nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

Nero paused at the door of the boys' bedroom, staring at the twins lying in their bunks and wondering why the sight left him feeling unsettled. Rosso was clearly resting comfortably in his own bed, and while Zaffiro's eyes were still open, his body was at least relaxed. Neither seemed to be in any great distress, yet there was something about them that seemed off, somehow. Nero stepped between the beds and glanced from one to the other.

As his eyes flicked from side to side, it came to him: The twins were still in separate beds. Though the boys occasionally napped in their own bunks, and usually started each night there, he'd never seen them go an entire night without one of them crawling into the other's space. Even when they were sulking or fighting or sick of the sight of each other from being trapped in the small house all day, they rarely chose to spend their time in different rooms. They had been all but inseparable since they were infants.

Until now.

Rosso was curled in a tight ball beneath the coverlet, face smashed into his pillow. He came awake easily as Nero touched his shoulder. "Time to get up," Nero said softly. "Kyrie's got lunch almost ready. How about you go wash up and get dressed?"

Rosso nodded and rolled upright, but didn't get out of bed immediately. He rubbed at his eyes with both hands, and Nero could see the glitter of dried salt on his cheeks. "My eyes are itchy."

"Yeah, you gave 'em a workout with all that crying last night. Make sure you wash your face really well. That will help." He prodded the boy's leg. "Better scoot. Kyrie's making you her world-famous grilled cheese, and you don't want it to get cold."

Rosso squirmed out of bed and headed for the bathroom, and Nero knelt beside Zaffiro's bed. Deep shadows rimmed the boy's bloodshot eyes, which shifted cautiously toward Nero. His body lay motionless beneath the blanket, limp with exhaustion, but it was clear he had not slept at all. Nero brushed a stray lock of hair back from Zaffiro's forehead. "Hey, kiddo. How you feeling?" There was no answer. Nero hadn't really expected one, but he'd hoped. "You need to eat something, too. You want some help getting up, or can you do it on your own?"

Zaffiro didn't move, so Nero flipped back the blanket, slid his arms beneath the boy's shoulders and knees and pulled him to the edge of the bed. Once Nero put him in a sitting position, Zaffiro's own sense of balance took over and he held himself upright, though he swayed in a way that reminded Nero of the stunned Riot they'd left in the laboratory earlier that day. Nero retrieved a change of clothes for him, and with a little more prompting, Zaffiro managed to stand and walk unsteadily to the bathroom under his own power.

Rosso was just rinsing his toothbrush when they entered. His eyes met his brother's in the mirror and held them for a few seconds while something that Nero couldn't identify passed between them. Then Rosso broke the contact, looking away as he placed his toothbrush back in the holder. "I'll go get dressed," he mumbled, hurrying past them to escape down the hallway.

Zaffiro didn't react to his brother's abrupt departure. Trancelike, he moved to the sink and began brushing his teeth. Nero stayed for a minute, watching to make sure that the boy wouldn't collapse or otherwise endanger himself, but while all his movements were purely mechanical and his face remained expressionless, Zaffiro seemed to have recovered enough to manage the basic tasks on his own.

Rosso, squeezed into a red sweater that was already growing too short in the wrists, had joined the adults in the kitchen by the time Nero went in pursuit of him. He nudged the boy's shoulder. "Hey. Everything okay between you and your brother?"

Rosso replied with a noncommittal shrug. "I guess."

Kyrie picked up on Nero's concern as she set a plate with half of the cheese sandwich and a small bowl of soup in front of Rosso. "Did you two have another fight?"

"No." Rosso tore off a bit of crust and dunked it in the soup.

Nero shrugged at Kyrie over the boy's head and helped her hand out the rest of the food before going in search of Zaffiro again. He found him standing in the bathroom, half-dressed, staring down at the shirt in his hands. From the vacant look in his eyes, he wasn't really seeing it.

Anxiety twisted Nero's gut at the clear evidence of how much damage the normally sharp-minded child had sustained, but he tried not to let it show as he took the shirt from Zaffiro's unresisting fingers. "Here, let me help you with that." Nero gathered the material and slipped it over Zaffiro's head. The boy seemed to return to awareness, and his slender arms wormed their way into the sleeves. "Kyrie's got your lunch all ready. It looks really good. Let's go eat before your brother finishes it all, okay?"

He steered Zaffiro down the hall and into the kitchen, where the boy obediently sat in the chair Nero pulled out for him, but did not return the smiles or greetings of the adults. He showed no interest in the food Kyrie placed in front of him, but at Nero's repeated prompting, spooned some of the soup into his mouth. Rosso cast a couple of hooded glances in his brother's direction, but never attempted to engage with him.

A silent conversation took place among the adults in the form of concerned glances and wordless gestures passed over the table. It was clear that both children were still suffering ill effects, but none of them quite knew what to do about it. Predictably, it was Nico whose tolerance of the quiet atmosphere failed first. "So," she burst after a few minutes of silence, "uh, what are we gonna do for the next thirteen days? Seems like we should be makin' some preparations before we go back to the lab."

Nero and Lady exchanged looks of alarm before Lady fixed Nico with a glare. "I thought we weren't going to discuss those plans in present company?" She jerked her head meaningfully toward Rosso and Zaffiro.

Nico shrugged. "Just figured if I'm s'posed to be makin' anything special for the occasion, I oughta get on it right away. Lemme know if there's a shoppin' list, is all."

"Speaking of shopping," Kyrie jumped in quickly, "I thought I'd go to the market this afternoon. Is there anything in particular you want me to buy?" Her gaze landed on the twins. "Boys, how about your favorite foods? Do you have any requests?"

Rosso let his soup spoon dangle from his mouth as he considered. "Strawberries," he said after a few seconds' thought.

Kyrie's hesitation was almost imperceptible, but Nero caught it. "It's not quite the right season, but I'll see if the market has any in." She flicked an apologetic glance at Nero, but he encouraged her with a nod. Strawberries were a luxury item here, imported and always very expensive, but if buying them helped Rosso bounce back from his traumatic memories, it was a small price to pay. "What about you, Zaffiro? Is there anything special you'd like?"

She had to prompt him again before he looked up at her, and then his only reply to her question was a minute head-shake. He had only picked at his food, and didn't seem to take much notice of what he was eating. Nero tried to think of what Vergil's favorite foods might be, but while Dante's love of pizza and strawberry sundaes was legendary, he couldn't recall Vergil ever expressing any particular preference for… well, much of anything, now that he thought about it. He wasn't sure if he'd even seen Vergil eat any food. "Hey, Trish. You know those two guys you live with?"

Trish gave him a quizzical look. "What about them?"

"Does the older one have any favorite foods, or anything?"

"Oh." Her face cleared in understanding. "Well… I think he puts olives on pizza. He and Dan—" Her eyes flicked to Rosso. "—his brother got into an argument over it once."

Rosso's nose crinkled. "Olives are gross," he declared to no one in particular.

Nero glanced at Zaffiro. Olives were always plentiful and cheap in the whole Mediterranean region, but he couldn't picture handing the kid a jar of them as a consolation prize. "Anything else? Maybe something more like a treat, or a dessert?"

"Dessert?" Trish's brow furrowed in concentration. "He doesn't go in for sundaes… Oh! I did see him with a piece of chocolate once. The fancy kind that's so dark it's almost black, and comes in individually-wrapped tasting squares. His brother threw a fit over it. He said he could have bought an entire pizza for what a single piece of that stuff cost. I guess it's hand-mixed, or something. He didn't offer to share."

Nero offered this to Kyrie with a shrug, and she nodded. "I doubt we have anything of that quality here, but I'll see what I can find."

When they had finished eating—and when Zaffiro had taken at least a few bites of his sandwich, at Nero's insistence—Kyrie began filling the sink with water while Nero cleared the plates from the table. "I'll finish up in here," Kyrie whispered when he brought her the dishes. "Why don't you see if you can get the boys to play a game or something?"

Nero glanced back at the table. Rosso was staring pensively at his hands, while Zaffiro gazed into empty space. "I'm not sure they're in the mood for games."

"Then try taking them for a walk. They always want to go outside."

That was true enough—though for the first time, they didn't leap at the chance. When Nero suggested they go to the park, Rosso gave a subdued nod and walked—not ran, as he usually would—to collect his shoes and coat. Zaffiro gave no reaction at all, merely sitting quietly until Nero prodded him out of the chair and put his coat on him.

"Kyrie, why don't you go with them?" Lady suggested suddenly. "I'll finish cleaning up."

Nero looked up from buttoning Zaffiro's coat. "You are better with kids than any of us."

Kyrie dried her hands on a towel. "All right. Maybe we can think up something creative to do along the way."

"They liked the scavenger hunt I made up for 'em," Nico suggested.

"Oh? That's a good idea." Kyrie looked at Nero, then followed his gaze to Zaffiro. The boy's passive behavior made it clear he wasn't going to engage in any of their usual games. "There's always people-watching, too. Maybe we can combine those into something that doesn't require a lot of running around."

They collected Rosso and set off in the direction of the park. Nero kept Zaffiro's hand firmly in his, though this time it wasn't for fear of the boy running off. Zaffiro's eyes kept up a constant metronome sweep as they walked, failing to fix on any single point, and his steps dragged. Nero suspected that if he stopped pulling him along, Zaffiro would drift to a halt and freeze up somewhere along the side of the road, withdrawing into whatever internal world he was seeing instead of their own.

Rosso was at least moving with purpose, if not enthusiasm. His hand stayed in Kyrie's the entire time, and unlike their usual walks, he didn't attempt to negotiate his freedom. On the few occasions he spoke, his words were subdued and phrased more politely than usual.

The park was sparsely populated in the post-lunchtime lull, and when the boys showed no interest in going off on their own, Kyrie led them to a bench facing one of the walking paths. "Let's play a game. Each team will pick a color, and we'll watch to see how many people wearing that color go by. The first team to reach ten wins."

Nero recognized the genius of her suggestion. The game was simple enough, but it required the boys to pay attention to something external instead of dwelling on their unpleasant memories. The most basic of distractions might draw them out. "Sounds like fun. How about Zaffiro and I are on one team, and you two can be the other."

"All right." Kyrie turned to Rosso. "What color should we pick?"

"Red," Rosso said without hesitation.

"Could have predicted that one." Nero looked down at Zaffiro, who had said nothing all day. "I'll bet you want blue, right?" The boy still didn't respond, and Nero sighed. "Right, blue it is. But you have to keep count, okay? You can use your fingers if you don't want to count out loud."

Team Red scored the first two points, and then Team Blue netted a pair of indigo jeans and a baby-blue jacket. Nero counted each point verbally, and only once had to prompt Zaffiro to add a finger to his tally. To his great relief, the boy's roving gaze finally settled, and after a few minutes he did seem to be watching the passersby. At one point he flicked a finger to count a point before Nero even spotted the man in the blue ball cap. Kyrie's simple game was working.

In the end, Team Red beat them by one point, but no one really seemed to care about the outcome. When Kyrie asked if they would like to play again, Rosso leaned forward and scanned the park. "May I go to the swings instead?"

"Of course," Kyrie answered.

"Just stay where we can see you, and come back if I whistle," Nero added. Rosso trotted away, less energetic than usual but still much improved over his previous state, and Nero turned to Zaffiro. "Do you want to go with him?"

Zaffiro's head twitched back and forth in a negative, and they fell into silence. Soon Zaffiro's eyes acquired that haunted, distant look again, obsessively sweeping the green space before them. Nero pointed to him and appealed wordlessly to Kyrie. She sighed and tried to put an arm around Zaffiro's shoulders. The boy spooked at the contact, jerking away, his eyes darting around in panic. For an instant, Nero thought he would bolt.

"Whoa, hey, easy." Nero showed his hands to Zaffiro, giving clear warning before touching him. He pulled him gently back against his side in an attempt to quell his trembling. "Okay, calm down. Breathe. You're safe with us. You know that, right?"

Kyrie glanced between them, appraising the reaction. "That was my fault," she said suddenly, sliding off the bench to kneel at Zaffiro's eye level. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm sorry. Will you accept my apology?" She held out a hand. Zaffiro hesitated, but after a moment put his hand in hers. "Thank you. You know, we might be able to make you feel more safe if you could tell us what it is you're afraid of. I know your dream must have been…" She nearly faltered, and Nero knew she was thinking of what Trish had told them. "…really scary, and I'm sure that's not an easy thing to get out of your mind. But it seems like something else is bothering you, too. Is there something more you're worried about?"

Zaffiro's eyes, again wide with anxiety, swept the park before coming back to Kyrie. He nodded.

Kyrie placed her other hand over Zaffiro's, still resting in hers. "Is it something from your dream?"

Another nod. Nero scarcely dared to breathe, for fear it would interrupt this breakthrough.

Kyrie must have been feeling the same. She took a moment to choose her words. "It seems like you're watching for something. Is that right?"

A nod.

"Can you tell me what it is you're looking for?"

Zaffiro's lips moved, but no sound emerged. Nero held his breath, and Kyrie waited patiently. After a few seconds, the boy tried again. "Bad things," he whispered.

It took all Nero's self-control not to groan aloud. He knew Zaffiro's return to verbal speech was a massive step in the right direction, but "bad things" was about as nonspecific as you could get.

Kyrie must have sensed his frustration, for she flicked Nero a warning glance. It was her only visible reaction, and lasted no more than a fraction of a second. "In your dream, are the bad things something that hurt you?"

Zaffiro shook his head. "They want to."

"They want to hurt you?"

"They… follow me."

Something clicked in Nero's memory. Trish had mentioned something about the twins being in hiding, hadn't she? Something about the servants of Mundus… "Like they're hunting you?"

The boy nodded. "And… they were…they…" His eyes welled with tears. "They were there."

This time Kyrie's eyes met Nero's, and she looked sick with the realization. "At… the house?"

Beneath Nero's hands, Zaffiro was trembling again. "They laughed," he whispered. "They were waiting, all around, and they laughed…"

Zaffiro's face turned pale and waxen, and he twisted suddenly out of Nero's grasp. He made it only a few steps into the grass before falling to his knees and vomiting. Kyrie knelt beside him, rubbing his back. "It's all right," she murmured, her voice steady and soothing despite the tears Nero could see glinting on her lashes. "Just sit and breathe. Nero, could you fetch some water from that cafe across the street?"

Nero went, his own stomach knotting in a complicated mix of rage and compassion. The fire at his core burned bright with the desire to make this right. Every part of him wanted to hunt down the creatures responsible for inflicting such pain on an innocent child and tear them limb from limb. But the demons tormenting Zaffiro were the ghosts of nearly forty years before, and Nero knew he was powerless to defeat the menaces of memory.

By the time Nero returned with a cup of water, Kyrie had moved Zaffiro back to the bench. The boy had withdrawn into himself again, eyes sweeping the area in a restless arc.

Kyrie took the cup from his hand and held it to the boy's lips. "We'll get through this," she whispered, more to Nero than to Zaffiro. "It will be all right. All things heal in time."

Nero smoothed back Zaffiro's tousled hair and prayed she was right.


NOTES:

Well, one of the brothers had to be the one to say "I want chocolate!" in that birthday flashback in DMC1. My vote is with Vergil. His tastes have no doubt matured since then, and now he's a chocolate snob (just like me).

I also eat olives on pizza. Coincidence? I think not.