Chapter 8 - Devon

All was silent except for the constant battering of the rain. Vergil properly adjusted his footing on the slippery ground.

Ready to deliver.

Three pairs of eyes just stared, hypnotized by the rapid, constant twirl of the katana in his hand, flashing a light reflection whenever it did a round to the rhythm of their beating hearts. They were scared by the ominous presence, that pulled at their beings, making them feel like nothing but petty sandcorns caught in an enormous, violently rampaging storm.

The puddles of water around Vergil started fizzing and slowly vaporized, tiny clouds of smoke gathered. Giving him an ethereal air as they wafted around his figure, billowing up until it engulfed them completely.

The hybrid's eyes shifted slightly to his right, narrowing at the female, for he was not the source of that incredible heat coming off the ground beneath his boots.

The earth literally throbbed. A steady rhythm, like grim drums of a long due war. In that second, he incredulously eyed the body, which had started to give of tiny swirls of golden smoke.

And this exact moment, as the easily controlled situation slipped from Vergil's steady hands, Nero came running and skidded to an abrupt halt.

Guilt. Shock. Hurt. All mixed together to form a tight coil in his belly, as his inner demon took this scene as a reason to begin a rampage, twisting his insides into a metaphorical bloodied mess. The beaten and battered body was all he could see through a reddened tunnel vision.

Before he could ask or truly process the scene, her body on the ground gave of a lush golden, pulsating light, Vergil's yell broke the silence and his opponents out of their stupor. "Watch out!"

Nero's air got knocked out of him, as he was hurled back against the solid wall, which broke upon his heavy impact.

The blast came swift and loud, launching several alarms of some cars down the street. It cracked the every walls within a 60 feet radius, the ground flew up in lumps of mud along with the cobble stones and the rain still evaporated before making it's way to the ground.

For a second Nero was deaf and blind all the same, scrambling on all fours, heaving for much needed air to fill his lungs.

Vergil evaded the blast barely, landing back on his feet next to Nero who slowly rose to his shaky feet, huffing and groaning as he cradled his ringing head.

"What the hell is going on?" Nero's voice cracked as he forced the question out.

The air was hot and steamy. Nero's eyes scanned the area frantically, and through the cloud of smoke he could identify movement.

A bloodied, dirty figure stood there, holding one of the men, who Vergil had encountered earlier, at an arms length. The tiny, female hand on his throat not fitting the malice that hung in the air.

Strangled noises and breathless gurgles escaped the man, as his trembling fingers desperately struggled to pry the hand off. He scratched at the skin and weak fists battered on the arm that was about to crush his windpipe. His feet tread across the ground, kicking up mud in a clumsy, yet violent dance for his puny life.

The figure didn't seem to notice Vergil and Nero at first. The yellow light twirled around her frame like wisps of smoke, off her arms and shoulders, off her head and feet and it had mislead Nero for a second. But now he could see. "That's her." His voice sounded hoarse.

Vergil knew, she had been dead. Her heart had already stopped, when he had found her. It must have happened quick and brutal, judging by the heavy trauma her head had received.

"Devon." At Nero's voice, her head jerked to gaze upon him. The man she held had almost given up on his futile fight. Her eyes zeroed in on Nero, at first hostile, but after a second it changed, it was almost friendly, a wide smile of cracked lips showed him bloodied teeth. And he flinched.

Vergil stared impassively, knowing at the moment, they weren't her priority, that only her attackers needed to fear and suffer for their actions. He noticed another one of them still laying unconscious on the ground, having experienced the full force of that blast earlier. The last male didn't survive it at all, his head cracked open on the contact with the brick wall several feet away, sprawled out in an unnatural pose.

Experiencing something so vile of a woman Nero had just learned to be shy and sweet, timid and kind, let his blood run cold.

"Devon, what are you doing?!" Nero yelled, shocked to see her like this, ready to shake her out of it.

Vergil stopped him, holding Yamato out, marking a line to not cross. "They killed her. Let her have her revenge." He wouldn't risk to let him step in between and possibly pay as dearly as them.

Nero, who had been ready to shove past him, stopped dead in his tracks. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I guess we'll learn soon enough." More than anything, Vergil was fascinated and curious to know what exactly effected her to become like this. Her death had triggered some kind of power and he wanted to know what it was. It appeared raw and primal at first, but it was different from the savage beast prowling along the edges of his sanity.

The lifeless body she held was negligently hauled away and landed, resounding with a sickening crack and squelch, next to them. Nero's eyes followed the trail, seeing how his throat had been ripped apart. He gulped and his gaze snapped back to her.

Her entire body pulsed, like a dark heartbeat beneath their feet. Her movement was off, jerky and uncoordinated. She looked similar to a marionette, who's player hadn't yet learned to steer her properly.

She took a moment to regard both of them and that unwavering grin made Nero sick to the stomach as much as the ripped throat of her victim.

One golden eye shone brightly while the other was obscured by wet hair, clinging to the right side of her face.

Nero's body moved, his devil bringer swatted Yamato out of his way, as he marched towards her.

"Nero, don't." Vergil snarled dangerously.

"Oh, shut the hell up!" The reply was delivered equally, no patience left for Nero to call upon.

"Stop." As he reached her, he extended his hand towards her shoulder, but his wrist got caught before he could react. The force hit him unprepared, the pain and the crackling of his bones almost bringing him down to his knees. His skin was on fire, so hot he could feel the blisters forming under her fingers.

Alarmed, Vergil jerked forward, pushing Yamato up from the sheath.

Nero saw this from the corner of his eye, immediately holding his devil bringer up, palm turned towards Vergil. "I got it. Don't." He huffed under the vice like grip, almost snapping his wrist in half. "Please." He pressed the word out in a hoarse groan. "Don't hurt her." He readily pleaded, and the desperation in his voice made the twin halt.

Nero even moved closer into her personal space, staring into her eye with the color of liquid gold, moving around the iris in a mesmerizing swirl. "It's me. Nero." The hold wavered, as she stared back into his blue one.

"Devon. Stop. It's okay." His voice shifted to a gentle, reassuring tone, though his heart was ready to jump out of his chest. He inhaled deeply and held his breath, while he moved his devil bringer up to softly touch her upper arm. She had stilled completely, but continued to hold on to him, the force dispersed. All he felt was the heat under her skin seeping into his own. A shaky, yet relieved sigh left his mouth.

The scorching feeling had subsided and was now a warm glow, steadily creeping up under his skin, spreading through his entire being with a tranquil glow, thudding in time with his heart. It was the strangest feeling Nero had ever encountered, powerful and so different from his demonic essence. It was comforting.

Whatever she was, she was no demon, of that he was suddenly certain." You can stop now. No one is going to hurt you." He told her, keeping his voice calm and low, carefully choosing his words which where rolling off his tongue as a soft imploration.

"Nero." She repeated his name, like remembering a far away dream. Whispering things long forgotten as she slowly regained her senses. It was like emerging from a cold sea of dark waters from a deep breathless dive. Her lungs burned under the heavy breaths and the noises of her rushing blood thudded in her ears. The shards of her shattered existence cutting her open and let her bleed forgotten memories, and the pieces moved back together to form the picture and come to life before her.

Yes, she knew the man in front of her with the gentle blue eyes.

A tentative smile broke out on his face upon hearing her say his name, but faded as soon as the golden eye grew dim. Her legs gave out, under her weak body, not used to the strain of tapping into the foreign powers from within, at least not up to this extent. Nero caught her limp frame effortlessly, gathering her up her into a crushing embrace.

"She's completely exhausted." Vergil had come closer to stand next to him and regard her unconscious form. "Let's get out of here and bring her home."

Nero's head snapped up at him, shocked eyes wide with astonished. Whatever he had Vergil expected to say, it wasn't this. "What were you doing here anyway?"

"I thought you could use some help." Vergil shrugged nonchalantly.

"I should have known you or Dante would follow me." Though his words sounded like he despised the idea and was tired of them making such a fuzz over him, he was glad one of them was here. "Thanks, for finding her."

"That's alright. Now come. Before anybody sees us around this mess. I'd rather not deal with it." Vergil urged them to move.

Nero could only nod.

But before they could heed his words, the last out of the three thugs finally groaned and was coming back to his senses. Vergil gritted his teeth, annoyed by the new hold up, as he approached the slumping figure.

Nero had tugged Devon securely into his embrace, his cheek already smeared with blood from where he had rested it on her head, breathlessly waiting for what the twin was about to do.

Vergil stared down at the despicable individual and to his own bewilderment his hands had started to tremble. His inner devil broke out into excitement, growling at him to rend, maim and slaughter.

It took all of his self control to not trigger in this instant and shred this puny, disgusting being to bloody, delicious bits.

The man in front of him cowered with his back pressed to the wall.

Yes. Writhe in fear, worm. "Stand up, you piece of filth. Look death in the eye when it comes for you."

"Vergil." Nero sounded alarmed, he felt the presence of the blue devil slithering around him, clawing at his every fiber. Vergil was going in for the kill, just like she had not moments ago. He couldn't take the drastic overriding of his human senses, without losing himself as well. All he wanted to do was leave.

Devon was in desperate need of treatment. Her face, her eye.

Nero couldn't even bear to look at her any longer.

God, her eye….it was just gone.

"This will only take a second." Vergil casually wiped the rain of his brow to not have it drip into his eyes and disturb him.

Never had Nero seen anyone of them murdering a human in cold blood, although he couldn't argue much if what Vergil said earlier was true. Did they really murder her? And if so, how the hell was she alive? However, any misguided conception form Vergil's side was simply laughable and out of the question. Nero relented and finally agreed. "Do it."

He waited for the telltale swish, but stared in surprise when nothing happened.

Vergil thoughtfully tilted his head at the shaking figure. "When I think about it, I have a better idea." Vergil explained his change of heart, sounding mildly amused.

"You're not letting him go, are you?" Nero asked back incredulously, face contorting to a display of utter disgust.

"Just wait and see." Was all Vergil replied in a cryptic matter.

The twin fixed his stare back onto the miserable being in front of him, to let him know he wasn't off the hook just yet. The thug regained some of his movement, but still looked up terrified at his opponent. He watched in fear and disbelief as the verbal exchange carried out about his supposed fate. As he understood, he wasn't going to die, he slumped back relieved and a shaky groan escaped his dry throat.

Vergil took a few steps back from him.

Cling. The distinctive sound of pushing Yamato up, the blade was ready to be fully unsheathed. And in lightning speed that only Vergil was truly capable of, the blade swished and was quickly sheathed back in. Before the man could even remotely understand what happened, Vergil took a step towards him once more, inspecting his handiwork with a satisfied sardonic smirk

"An eye for an eye." He told him, no emotion traceable in his voice.

And then an agonizing scream erupted from the man's throat. He didn't even see the movement. A warm feeling on his face just told him, something was very wrong. His vision blurred and narrowed. Then came the pain.

And Nero understood, and a strange sense of calm, but grim satisfaction flooded his body when Vergil spoke again, after the man's shriek and turned into sobbing and moaning, having fed enough on the dread and pain to haul his excitement back in.

"Just a friendly reminder. Tell, whoever wants to hear and even to those who don't, what happens to the likes of you, if you ever lay a single finger on any being in this city again." Vergil stepped forward. One well delivered strike with Yamato's unbreakable sheath to the head and the sobbing mess of a man slumped sideways, finally silent.

"Give her to me." Vergil extended his arms, surprising Nero even more. "I am faster than you. I will get her home safely." Also, he wanted to be the sole individual to suffer from her wrath, if she should wake up as disoriented as before. He knew, Nero wouldn't have it in him to end her if the need arose. Vergil wouldn't take any more chances, seeing the way Nero had acted so foolishly as to snap her out of her vengeful, carnal state earlier.

Nero couldn't do much to argue with the reason, though still reluctantly giving up his clutch on her light as a feather frame. Vergil gathered the unconscious woman into his arms, giving Nero a nod of approval. "We'll meet at home." And in a blurred flash he was off.

Vergil entered the house silently through the unlocked window of his space in the attic, making his way across it and downstairs to set Devon up in Nero's room. He placed her on the bed, quietly regarding her with his stoic expression, not knowing, if this was the right choice or not. But Nero would have insisted either way and in the end, they couldn't let her walk around in a state of unknown roots and let wreak havoc wherever she went, either.

She was their responsibility now. And he had been the one to trigger the circumstances they found themselves in. He had to give Nero credit, for being able to calm her enough to let go of that immense power earlier and fall into a state of blissful unconsciousness. Also he noted, that all the cracked bones and split skin began a solid, but slow healing process.

She had felt feverish before in his arms and he now laid the back of his hand onto her forehead. He didn't know, if the heat resulted from the procedure of weaving cells back together or from the injuries. He wasn't too educated in this kind of knowledge.

He sighed and left her, to inform Dante of what had happened. He didn't need to search for his brother, though. As he closed the door of Nero's behind him, his brother came up the stairs, face scrunched up in a displeased expression.

Before he could say anything though, Vergil held both hands up. "I know, spare me the look." They spoke quickly in hushed voices, briefing each other on the latest turn of events.

As soon as Dante mentioned Trish, Vergil advised him to let her have a look at the female to make sure she was going to be fine. Both went downstairs, with Vergil finally meeting the riders. With the news still hard to swallow, he quickly explained to Trish what had happened. At least the gist of it and voicing his opinion to stay on her toes though when she would treat her.

Dante followed suit, wanting to witness from up close what his brother had talked about. The sped up healing left no room for doubts any longer. He watched silently, while Trish tended to her, meticulously cleaning all the grime and blood of, where the clothes would let her.

Layer by layer gently wiped off, until white skin was left, which was starting to loose it's unnatural heat, the closer it was to mend the injuries into scars. It was a faulty, not fully developed healing skill and Dante could guess why. Maybe because it was a possession of some sort or a faulty spell gone wrong, or the powers were dormant in her small body were not yet fully woken.

Deep in thought he watched Trish's treatment seemingly for hours, thinking and evaluating the whole situation, deeply wishing for Danzig to be here. His former mentor, in all his wisdom gained through eons of long life, would definitely have an answer for this.

A soft knock on the door brought him back into the here and now. "Come in."

It was Nero, sporting a deep, worried look, he hadn't seen in a long time on the kids usually bright or cocky face.

"Hey Trish." Nero walked over to her, and wanting not to disturb her in her task, he put his human hand on her shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze. She looked over said shoulder, a sympathetic look for the uncommonly quiet greeting she received.

"She's going to live." Trish answered to his distressed look, as it wandered over Devon's skinny form, hidden under a thin blanket, which let's him see how skinny the woman truly was, as if drowning in his big clothes hadn't been indication enough. It didn't help to pt him at ease, but instilled the thought of how her weak body would react to all the stress it was put through.

Dante stood up from the chair, instantly realizing from Nero's behavior, he obviously hadn't met their new house guests yet. He cursed internally, for he had to go through the entire conversation over and over again. This was way too tedious for his liking, but necessary. And it would give him something else to focus on, which wasn't for the worst either.

Vergil's presence radiated from above. "Come with me for second." Dante opened the door to let Nero through, then took the lead towards the attic.

"What's wrong?" Nero gave Dante a curious once over, who had turned towards him with a cautious stare, before they climbed the narrow staircase. "Keep your calm, okay?"

Nero shrugged in return, ignoring the pointed look from the older man. "I want you to meet someone."

Of course, Nero caught on instantly, because it had been nagging for twenty-four hours straight in the back of his head. "Oh, is this who you got the message from?"

Opening the door to Vergil's room, without the courtesy of a knock, was the only answer he received from Dante. He barged in expectantly but widely unprepared for this and almost lost his wits on sight.

"Fuck..." He breathed, laying his eyes for the very first time on the two imposing riders, their presence filling the room with dignity and grim determination, it was overwhelming his senses on a whole other level.

With a smirk, Vergil introduced them both with their names, leaving Nero in an open mouthed state of awe.

Certainly not the reaction either of them had anticipated. The kid was rendered speechless.

Death stood by the open window, watching Dust pick splinters off wood from the sill, gawking happily at his master. War had opted to sit on Vergil's oaken four poster bed, knowing it's solid craftsmanship able to hold his weight for certain.

Few candles illuminated the room with a comfortable warm light.

Dante walked over to his brother, sitting in his trademark armchair, several books strewn across his desk and on the floor, opened up on different pages. They blatantly had walked into the ongoing discussion of the origin of Devon's power.

Dante took a gander at the book Vergil currently had on his lap. Ars Goetia. He knew that weighty book and it was drag to read.

"Death wants to speak with her." Vergil informed his brother, closing the book on his lap and placing it carefully on the table.

"ALright. But not now, she need all the rest she can get. " Dante replied. What better way to have the oldest rider estimate her state, for he certainly possessed vast knowledge about many creatures, neither of the twins had ever come across yet. A circumstance Dante wasn't too sad about though, truth be told.

Nero fiddled with the hem of his sweater, noticing War's curious eyes on his devil bringer. "That's the child you are training?" He directed his questioning look towards the twins. Dante settled down on the armrest of Vergil chair, crossing his arms with a nod.

"Correct. He will assist us on our task. Even if he's young, he had his fair share in battle." Vergil praised Nero in an uncommon manner, while folding his hands over his stomach as he leaned back into his chair.

Nero's eyes went wide at Vergil's words. A giddy feeling coursing through his veins, excitement bubbling up to split his face into an eager grin. So, all this trainign with Vergil did pay off, if that's what convinced him in the first playe to so easily back him up.

Dante motioned for him to come closer eventually and Nero sat crossed legged on the floor, careful to leave a respectful gap to the enormous figure on the bed and on the other side at the window, and to admire him from a safe distance.

Nero, for once very much concentrated and attentive, listened closely to everything the riders had to reveal to him. Slightly in awe and elated by the faith put in him, he hung on every word that they said. Death, with his stoic and calm demeanor very much reminded him of Vergil, though a darkness was surrounding around him, that made him entirely different from the half bloods and himself. They were all dangerous, but Death and War appeared to be the epitome of destructive force. Just like their names let assume. Yet, Nero founnd it hard comprehend the true power one of them holds, being able to destroy a whole world if necessary.

"Well, count on me." Nero promised, as they had ended, curling his hand into a fist, trusting it into his devil bringer's open palm. When someone had thought Nero to get discouraged or intimidated by the news and forshading of events, they surely were in for an eye opener.

Not the twins though. Vergil, letting out an amused grunt, softly elbowed Dante in a furtive move, to look at the enthusiastic young man.

"He has your spunk." War remarked with a slight chuckle, letting the whole bed vibrate under him, nodding at Dante.

"Don't I know it." He agreed with a chuckle.

They all stayed up for almost the remaining night and with Devon sleeping safe and sound, Trish eventually joined them to brief and get an a complete update herself.

Nero, after a while, volunteered to watch over the Devon, but as soon as he assumed his position on the bed side, hunched over in his swivel chair, he felt the weight of the last day dragging his eye lids down. Using his arms as cushion, he laid his head onto the bed in a most uncomfortable way. He didn't think to cover his appendage due to the hazy sleepiness.

Fingers brushed against Devon's, resuming to feel that serene warm glow, he had felt earlier and he plunged head over heels into the comforting bliss of sleep.

"I can see it, human." Death held the Devon's chin in a careful grasp, between his thump and forefinger, turning her face up to have her eye staring into his own orange, glowing orbs. She found out, that Dante had not overexaggerated and he was stunningly outlandish, with his protruding spine and sickly purple skin, taut over huge muscles, decorating his overall tall form, that Devon only could gape at when she saw him the first time. Also, it did not help, that he was almost twice her height.

However, after the initial shock had subsided and his deep, quite pleasent voice aided him in his case, Devon found her head was elsewhere, when the warrior talked to her.

This morning, when she had woken up, mind wandering along the threshold to reality, Dante had been there, finally giving her enough information to send her thoughts into another flurry. Riders and devils. Demon hunters and protectors of the realms. Himself, the hybrid son of Sparda and his twin. And Nero, the one with the demonic glowing arm, who he had met in Fortuna upon a job.

This was all too fantastic to be true and weighing down on her weak form. Physically and mentally.

She wasn't fully healed yet, but still opted to heed Dante's advice to have Death take guess at her. The right side of her face had taken the brunt of the attack, thick scars had formed around the empty socket. Though the healing factor she had always possessed had sped up remarkably, it was evident, that the power of Pesh, who had slumbered inside her, couldn't fully undo the damage either.

Now, she stood here in the middle of the living room, in front of the being called Death, upon which she looked equally in fear and distrust. Dante stood behind her, hands on her shoulders like a protective parent, as to let her know, she had nothing to be afraid of.

Vergil was seated on the couch, looking like he owned the world, indifferent expression to boot. The breathtakingly, beautiful woman, who's smile would stop any from crying was nowhere to be seen. Devon had come too only long enough to realize she had been cleaned and dressed, before the peaceful familiarity of the room had let her know rest once more.

The red rider regarded her the whole time with curious eyes, that did not feel as uneasy on her as Death stare that wormed itself right into her very soul.

In the far corner of the room, Nero sat alone, with a brooding look, eyes and mind elsewhere, only to snap back up, when Death dropped the bomb of the origin of this foreign soul hidden inside her.

Fully awakened to boot, but that only Devon knew for now.

This felt as surreal as it could get, with everyone present fixed solely on her and the unvoiced question tensely in the air. What had happened, clearly defined Devon's complete view on the world anew and it granted her one explicable truth above all.

Pesh, had saved her life. Or brought her back. In all honesty, that was exactly what she believed.

"So?" Dante, still kneading her shoulders in a means to keep her calm, piped up, impatient for a further clarification of the riders statement.

"He doesn't mean ill, if that's what you're asking." Death replied, eyes finally veering away from her and letting go of her face. Devon jerked her head away immediately, as he did so.

"How do you know it's a he?"

Death straightened his posture and crossed his arms. "The one you are harboring inside you, burning away your life essence as much as he tries to maintain it, is the soul of a virtue." Her bewildered eyes narrowed, the unvoiced question hanging heavy in the air. Death sighed at her. "An angel."

Though deep within Devon had already guessed it from her former encounter, but believed it way too fantastic to actually hold on to her initial premonition, had it now in the verification of a being older than mankind.

Nero was the first one to speak, less baffled, but more irked, painfully reminded by the mislead conception of Fortuna's deceased Order. "You're kidding, right?"

Dante regarded Nero with an uncommon, sharp look to not disturb. Though he was equally distraught, not by the revealing it was an angel, but the additional information Death had dropped as carefully as you would drop a bucket of freezing water over your least favorite person. It hit him square in the face, and the way Devon tensed under his touch, he knew she had understood it as well. It wasn't bound to end well, if not dealt with.

"Is he responsive?" Death asked her with the precision of a skilled surgeon, attempting to cut away layer by layer of her being. "What did he say to you?"

Devon lowered her face, not able to look him in the eye for one more second, as he forced her to answer something so personal in front of everyone. The level of her discomfort was rising with the temperature in the room.

The twins especially felt their respective devil respond. Dante squeezed her shoulders, whipsering for to calm.

Nero's arm flared up like wildfire. A single beacon for her to follow and realize what was happening. That she actually was the source and all eyes fixed on her in agitation. Again, she remembered what Dante told her this morning, how she had reacted and Nero had been the only one able enough to calm her down. Or that what was inside her.

He and his curious arm, that hung from his side without the trademark glove today.

Devon, wide awake and finding more control of the emotions welling up from deep within, mixing with the presence behind her closed eye, focused to calm the invading feeling. "He said, his name was compassion." And to her surprise it truly heeded her and they all relaxed slowly back.

"A virtue." Death concluded darkly. "Not much is known of the oldest of angel chastes for with they vanished. They were the first, manifestations of their respective virtue, leading the archangels on to adhere the moral imperative of the Creator. And all other angels that followed. Only rumors about their missing came out of the white city. Nothing more."

"So, what's it doing here, hiding in a human shell?" Vergil asked, blue eyes fixed on her, yet again adding to the uncomfortable feeling as if she was on trial.

"That is the exact question." War muttered on behalf of his brother.

The hands on her shoulders disappeared and Dante came into view, walking around and rubbing over his face, giving away his frustration, as he plopped own on the couch next to Vergil, complaining over the unsatisfactory outcome of Death's assessing. Not getting closer to the core of this mystery.

Devon drowned out all the different voices, struggling to cope with the amount of information she received all at once. Angels, devils. Riders of the apocalypse and it send her mind into a dizzying spin, where it all jumbled together, until a crystal clear thought shot up all above the others.

It was eating away on her life essence. Did Pesh know?

She heaved a sigh, then took a look around, seeing how they were enthralled in a discussion over her fate, safe for Nero, who had resumed to brood in silence. She lifted her head and gathered her remaining courage to walk past the huge creature they called Death and towards the door.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Dante called after her, but she thoroughly ignored him. She opened the front door and let it slam shut. This was as frustrating as it was frightening her.

Settling down on the front steps for some fresh air, Devon rested her elbows on her knees and her spinning head in her hands. Feeling shaken by the presentiment of a dreadful outcome, her eye stared into the distance for something to focus on and not noticing how the door opened and closed behind her, until a figure plopped down next to her.

"Hey..." It was Nero, who had followed her outside.

She huffed, not looking at him. He faltered for a moment. "Should I go?"

"It's alright." She waved her hand dismissively, then gave him a curious look, having to fully turn to not leave him in her blind spot. This particular circumstance would take the most to get used to she surmised bitterly. A real, physical reminder of her fate, which she would have to deal with from now on.

"This is all so fucked up..." She groaned at him.

"Are you afraid?" Nero asked gently. His gaze fell upon the curtain of hair, she used to hide the damage done to her face. He briefly turned his head away, baring his teeth in frustration. Like Vergil had told him earlier, she wouldn't recover from this. The power might be able to mend things, but not conjure something up that wasn't there anymore, like her missing eye. It was set in stone and he became painfully aware of that in this very second.

"No." Devon stated, rather calmy, and nero found he couldn't detect the lie, if it was one only to not appear weak before him.

"Well, neither am I. At least not as long as this won't respond..." He referred to his demonic arm, holding it out with his palm open, forwarding it in an encouraging motion for her to take it. "I won't make a fuzz, either." He tried to smile.

"I noticed how it began to glow. This always happens...when...?"

"Always, when encountering a demon. But, it responds to Dante and Vergil alike. And you..."

Devon eyed the arm, when he held it up. "When I get emotional...?" She asked with a hint of amusement.

"So it seems." He saw, how she looked at his arm, but there was no fear or disgust evident in her expression, that would amke him feel uncomfortable on his end.

A shy smile crept across her face. She hesitated for a brief moment, but then laid a tentative finger on the back of his claw. To her surprise it was warm. It felt strange, but not unpleasant. "Can I...?" She asked warily for his permission.

Nero only flipped his hand over, open palm inviting her to take a closer look. Her heart melted with the gesture, though she misjudged it thoroughly. For as she laid her own hand across it to actually feel it, he flinched slightly at the foreign touch and bold move. "I'm sorry. I meant, if I could touch it..." She excused herself with a hint of embarressment.

His wide eyes locked with hers and for the briefest of moments, he caught a glimpse of the golden light, before his inner eye and the spark of tranquility it send through him relaxed him visibly. His voice sounded thick, almsot coarse and his throat felt dry. "It's okay."

He averted his eyes and scratched his nose with his other hand, surprised over himself. The feel of her hand in his made his heart rate speed up. His devil bringer was more sensitive to touch than his human hand. He felt the blood course through her wrist. And it was comforting.

Her pulse had quickened as much as his own. There was nothing else he could feel rather than human skin and bone and blood. Human blood, that rushed in a steady, but fastened rhythm through her system. It was almost hypnotizing to listen to with his overly heightened senses as reaction to the weird situation they found themselves in.

Devon held onto his devil bringer, slightly lifting it to get a closer look.

"What are you …..doing...?" Nero was abashed, when she lightly twisted his limp to get another close look. His body turned a bit to avoid the uncomfortable twist of his arm involuntarily. Devon didn't answer him, but repeated the motion just the other way around. Her other hand joined in and she softly traced the scales of his forearm up to his protruding bone on his elbow.

Nero eyes fell towards her touch and his gaze followed the motion and the prodding of nimble fingers with his lips slightly parted. He didn't know why, but his breath hitched in curious anticipation.

Devon gently tapped the sturdy red shell of his arm and scrutinized the gaps where his usual dim light shone through. It was dormant. But she felt mesmerized by it nonetheless. She could feel him tense under her touch, but to her silent cheer he didn't pull back either.

She turned his hand so his palm faced her once more. The blue and white pattern caught her attention. It felt rippled but amazingly soft. Her fingers brushed along his palm and Nero's breath hitched.

"That tickles.." He whispered with a giggle, as his arm flexed under the sensation.

"Oh, sorry." She apologized softly and turned his hand once more, still inspecting the scales, which covered his fingers up to end in the sharp tips.

Nero still watched her intently. And somewhere in the back of his head he thought, he never had experienced such an intimate moment. Yes, it felt very exclusive and tender.

Her soft touch left him burning in places he had long forgotten. His chest tightened at the sudden flash of memories. Stop it, he reprimanded himself. Stop. It's no use dwelling in the past. All there is, is pain and regret. All that matters is the here and now. But it wasn't his own voice talking to him, but Dante's. And it was damn right.

Nero opened his eyes he didn't even realize had closed. Devon's face came into focus. She smiled. And he smiled back.

Then she slowly let go and he tugged back to his side. But the touch of her gently fingers still lingered on, leaving him craving for more.

"Can I ask you a question?" She kneaded her hands, which had fallen back into her lap, in nervous kind of way. He grinned at the shy antics, knowing that this was still the girl from before, even though something about her had changed significantly.

But who was he to rebuke, for he knew exactly what it felt like, maybe more than any other around here. And even though it might be awful to say so, but he had the feeling that somehow, life had returned to her about the awful impact of the events.

The poor shy girl, he had gone shopping with, had not vanished but gained something. If it was the presence within or the influence of it, he couldn't say just yet.

"Shoot." He said and simply shrugged..

"Was it always like this, since you were born?"

The inevitable question still hit him like a hammer to side of his head. Of course, she would ask this. Everyone eventually did.

He cleared his throat and looked away. "No." He cleared his throat one more time to gain a second, as he tried to push his feelings aside. Flashes of images buried deep within began to flood his mind. Painful memories he felt should have never been addressed again. Not now. His heart clenched, his chest tightened.

Kyrie...

"I was...It..." He began, but his voice failed him. He sighed, but after a few seconds, found the strength. "It changed when I was attacked by some demons one day. It was in a forest close to my home town Fortuna. I managed to get rid of four, but the last one got me and it..." He gulped audibly, trying to find the words. "It...tore my arm off. When I awoke after a week or so, this was there instead."

Devon's hand flew to her mouth. Whatever she had been expecting, this surely wasn't it.

"At first it hurt like hell. I freaked out. But eventually, I came to terms with it. This is a part of me. And from that day on, I intended to put it to whatever good use I can. Then I met Dante and joined him." His voice was nothing but a soft tender tone, trying to keep a calm attitude, at least on the outside.

Nero didn't say how Kyrie and Credo had found him, crying and screaming in his room. He had been a total wreck. Scared out of his mind because of this demon arm.

And only Kyrie had been able to soothe him eventually. And then shit hit the fan with the appearance of Dante and the truth behind the Order. He had lost everything, that had ever mattered in his life on this very day in a matter of just a few hours...it still hit him as surreal, but the pain and regret and anger that had come with it had been as real as it could get.

But Dante had been there for him. All the time for the whole last year. He had sworn to never let anyone close to him again. If something like that would happen again, he knew he would turn crazy and be on a rampage, no one would be able to save him from this time.

So why, with all of these things running through his confused mind, was he here?

He sat there and stared at Devon. And he could deny it all the way he wanted to, but the bitter truth was he already cared for her too much for his own good. And it left him afraid and puzzled for it was only such a short amount of time. He blamed it on the extreme circumstances, which was bound to change people and get them to skid closer together.

And he could get used to her, plus Vergil had stated earlier as they had waited for Dante to bring her downstairs, she would stay here at least for the time being. For all they knew, she could still pose a threat sooner or later. Nero highly doubted it nonetheless.

Silence had ensued between them. It was not really comfortable. Nero wore an expression of pain and fear on his face he couldn't quite conceal. Devon noticed and regretted the question, which had evidently brought back some horrible memories.

His eyes grew distant with every word. And she didn't know what to say. Maybe it was better to be silent. She rested her chin on her knees and stared off into the distance. Neither of them moved.

Both jumped as the door behind opened. "Get inside." Dante ordered, when he realized the tension. Well, of course he was eavesdropping from the start, but no use in telling them.

Nero was glum as he rose wordlessly. He went inside without bothering to look back and made his way up the stairs. Devon watched him with a worried expression as she followed him and Dante, who closed the door behind them with a soft thud.

How should she have known that the topic would summon such hurtful memories in Nero's head, but she felt bad nonetheless.

"I'm off to get some shut eye. Later." With this curt information and an unusual air of aloofness around him, Nero disappeared upstairs.

Dante touched her shoulder, giving it a squeeze and send her a disarming smile that would make every girl weak in the knees. "He's had it rough, but don't worry. Nero is a stubborn ass, he'll come around."

Devon gave him a quizzical stare. "Oh, you've been listening..."

"Can't help it really. Super human hearing and all." He reminded her with making a circular motion close to his ear, grinning sheepishly. Devon refrained from rolling her eye, not entirely believing him.

"What happened to him?"

At this, Dante's grin faded and he shook his head. "If he isn't willing to talk about it just yet, I shouldn't be either."

"Huh. Who would have thought? My brother is decent for once instead of being the usual, insolent brag." Vergil's mockery let's him receive a wry smile.

"An insult and a lie. How original, Vergil."

"It's a rare compliment and therefore true."

Devon's face went completely neutral as he spoke from where he was comfortably seated. Still, a stare was a stare. And Vergil very much seemed to agree.

"Stop it. It's annoying." Vergil addressed her without looking up from the book he was currently holding, a sword rested across his lap. The ominous katana, he had produced yesterday out of thin air, with the hilt wrapped in white silk, a shiny black sheath and a yellow, silken cord. It was beautiful, her mind registered involuntarily.

All things she needed to get used to, she guessed. Him she needed to get used to as well. So, she stepped closer and into his direct line of sight, casting a shadow over the page he was currently reading.

"I wanted to say thanks and for what it's worth, I'm sorry for the trouble I caused."

After Dante's explanation this morning, she felt she couldn't stay angry forever about his behavior. Because, in his stead, maybe she would have done the same.

Dante's eyebrows shot up and Vergil's involuntarily mimicked the action, as he lifted his gaze. He didn't see that one coming. Despite himself, he nodded, no reply ready at the tip of his tongue. His icy stare had wavered, if only by fraction. But for Devon it was enough for the time being.

She dipped her head in silent regard, simply turned and walked off into the direction of the kitchen with a growling tummy. God dammit, she was hungry.

Dante threw Vergil a loopsided grin before trailing after her, sharing that deep craving for a tasty bite to the same extent.