Me, sitting in the tiniest fan club: "My boy has arrived. He's here. My boy."
Strawman: "He's kind of different-"
Me, waving my banners: "Shhhh. It's my boy."

Kyrie had yet to return.

We so rarely sent anyone to Castle Capulet on horseback that I couldn't say whether a week was too long for her to have been gone. Even after she found the castle, she would need to find a way inside. Then there was the matter of finding Nero and being able to see him alone. Altogether, it was no simple task, but Kyrie had the skill and patience for it.

I did not, which was partially why I had not gone myself. That left me to remain at the castle, worrying. I kept to any duties that I could in order to keep my mind occupied, but I had so little to do. My job was to look after the prince. With no prince around, I had no job. I'd been in my room for hours, trying to read the same page of a book, only for my mind to wander by the second line of text.

Our carrier birds had retrieved several messages from Capulet's king, none of which mentioned catching a spy. I was certain the king would have noted his offense had he discovered her, and he surely would have added her to their ransom.

Well, I hoped he would do that instead of killing her on sight.

I had no reason to believe she'd failed, yet I spent my every waking moment trying to fidget away my agitation. Between her and Nero, I was going to gray early, granted I survived that long.

If I'd known more about Capulet's royalty, maybe I could have breathed easier. Few from Fortuna had even seen Capulet's royals, let alone gotten to know them, yet I was given an apt description of one prince the week before, when Sanctus assigned that absurd mission. Unbeknownst to me, we had information on his appearance, fighting style, and the route he often took through Capulet's lowlands. A route he took alone, unguarded.

Despite all of our information, though, God was not on our side that day.

Perhaps if I'd warned Nero about the mission's true nature, perhaps if I'd refused to accept it at all, perhaps if I'd been more firm in stopping Nero from going off on his own- But I knew better. Nothing would have changed in any case.

In reality, I doubted Nero or any of us could have killed Capulet's prince as Sanctus hoped. That prince was beyond us, something strange and inhuman.

Like Nero.

Too much like Nero.

"You're certain it was Capulet's prince who captured him?" Sanctus pressed upon my return.

I kept my eyes down as much as possible, trying to avoid the fury in his stare. His calm demeanor was nothing but a mask. If I wanted to leave in one piece, I needed to tread carefully.

"Yes," I said. "He was alone and as described. We were also straight in the line of his anticipated path."

Venom dripped out from under Sanctus' half-breathed words. "And you allowed him to escape?"

"I attempted to give chase, but we lost sight of them, and our tracker was too injured to trace his path. I had too many injured men. I had no choice-"

"Did Capulet's prince injure any of them?"

"No sir." The demons had done that. Some fool assigned me men untrained in fighting the monsters instead of those from the Order. "But he did harm Nero," I added, shoving down the boiling anger that swarmed through me each time I remembered that damned prince standing over mine as though he had some right-!

"Very well," Sanctus said. All the tension vanished from his voice, and I looked up to find him smiling. "I suppose it will have to do. I'm certain our dear patrons will be rather upset at this news of their prince's capture. Capulet would be wise to act in its best interests because the people of Fortuna are more than willing to sacrifice theirs in order to retrieve their beloved prince. Wouldn't you say, Credo?"

I hated that smile and the way it did not match his eyes. "I am certain the people of Fortuna will be upset," I said, taking a step forward, "but if you would allow me to go, I could negotiate for Nero's release. If necessary, I could be a proxy for him. If it comes out that we were really on Capulet land-"

As Sanctus held up a hand, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself. "They can attempt to prove whatever they wish, but rage makes people blind. You do not need to step in. Should Capulet attempt anything against the prince, they will not come out of it unscathed." Sanctus seemed to smile wider at the idea that harm should befall Nero.

I should have been surprised, but I already understood his desires too well. Fortuna needed more farmland, and the only way to take it was to gain a foothold in Capulet. We needed a war, the sort not seen on either land in centuries.

But I could not allow Nero to be a pawn to that end, not even for the sake of our people.

"Sir," I said despite all reason. "I took an oath to protect him. I cannot just sit here-"

"As a knight, your oath is to Fortuna. Take no further action. You are dismissed, Credo."

He was wrong. The rings I wore were that of the king's knight. I protected the crown alone. Sanctus himself had been the one to make me swear my life to Nero, so it was Sanctus' own damn fault that I could not accept his orders.

My father had asked me long ago to swear loyalty to Fortuna's people, but he was gone now. My mother as well. Both slaughtered like livestock. I'd forced myself to forget much from my childhood, but I could never block out the sight of their blood covering the floor, smooth and shining like stained glass.

I lost any tie to that old promise that night, just as I lost my name. So, no, the people were not my responsibility. Nero was my charge, as was the young woman I pulled aside in the chapel.

Kyrie followed along with my urging, ducking behind a pillar. Before I could even open my mouth, she spoke in a whisper. "It's true, isn't it? Someone took Nero?"

If the whole castle already knew, I had no doubt the news would reach past the city by morning. "Yes," I said, keeping an eye out for anyone who might see us talking. "We have reason to believe he was taken to Castle Capulet."

Her hands clasped under her chin, a common habit of the chapel girls. "Is he going to be alright?" she asked.

"I'm not certain. Sanctus won't allow me to go, and I'm certain he'll keep watch to ensure I can't. I have hope Capulet will return Nero after negotiations, but I don't know how safe he is, and he does not have his medicine."

"Then I'll go," she said. Her determination burned like the candlelight in her eyes.

She was perhaps too eager to throw herself into danger. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I gave her the look I usually saved for when Nero misbehaved. "Blue Rose's saddle still has the medicine, but you are only to give him that. Do not attempt to escape with him."

"Even if he's hurt?" she hissed.

"I can't risk both of you being captured. We have to hope that Sanctus and the others will negotiate for his release. It's more dangerous for both of you if Capulet recognizes you as a spy. It could damage negotiations, and you could be killed."

She put on her usual doe-eyed pout. "Fine."

"Be careful, little sister," I said, my response to the routine. It was more difficult to plaster a smile on my face this time, but she flashed a grin before throwing her arms around me.

"I will," she sang. "I'll tell the other girls I'll be working in the kitchens for a bit. They won't even know I'm gone."

I patted her head until she released her crushing grip. "Take Blue Rose," I said. "It's late enough that no one should see you at the stables."

As much as I hated to rely on her for something so dangerous, she was the only one I could trust. She'd proven herself as a talented spy from a young age, able to keep her head down and eavesdrop for me.

That wasn't how things should have been. She should never have needed to live in the shadows. She could have been a master of diplomacy.

But, no, I should have abandoned such thoughts long ago. Sitting alone in my room for so long had gotten the better of me. After a week of it, I'd had quite enough. Nero's impatience had rubbed off on me.

Taking my sword, I descended into the castle depths. Below ground level, the fiery hues of the sunset vanished. The staircase was a gaping maw of near-blackness. Candles along the wall burned low, lighting only the patches of stones beside them. Mice or rats squeaked and skittered somewhere in the darkness.

I'd learned long ago to rely on my feet to carry me down the steps based on memory. It was best not to pay any mind to whatever might crunch under my boots. Best not to hesitate or touch the walls.

The door at the bottom of the steps held fresh candles on each side, burning bright enough to illuminate the claw marks and hand prints lining its edges. I wasn't allowed inside - few were - and I had no desire to see whatever Hell was hidden away in there, so I stood in my old spot. Several years had passed since I last waited outside the dungeon door. Little had changed since then besides a few new gouges in the wooden frame. Seemed something big tried to escape.

As usual, Agnus was muttering to himself when the door swung open. Scowling, he tugged bloodstained gloves from his hands. I couldn't recall ever seeing Agnus so annoyed. He was usually all smiles when appeared from his cave.

Honestly, I preferred the irritation, but no emotions were good on Agnus.

"Credo," he said without looking at me. "What is it?"

He could be angry all he liked. I was not intimidated by him, especially not today. "I need to know what Nero's medicine is for," I said.

"Oh, enough. You always ask. It doesn't matter." That strange tick tinged his voice every few words, like they didn't want to leave his mouth.

"I've given it to him for years because you said he needed it. Now I need to know what it does!"

"He's not here. Why should you care?" He tried to take a step past me, but I blocked his path, my hand on my sword's grip. I would not be shrugged off again.

"It is because he is not here that I care. What will happen if he doesn't take that damned concoction of yours for this long?"

Agnus' lip curled with a snarl. "It will mean years of work for nothing. They act like it can so easily be replicated. They forget how long it took to manage that one success."

In one quick movement, I had my blade at his throat. "Explain," I growled.

He stumbled for words, his eyes wide. When he did manage to speak, it was not what I wanted to hear. "What do you think you're doing? You forget your place."

As he tried to step back, I grabbed him by the front of his coat, slamming him into the wall. The edge of my sword pressed into his throat. "I don't follow orders from you, Agnus," I said. "None of my alliances currently reside in this castle. I have little to lose, so I suggest you choose your next words carefully."

It was not that I didn't trust my sons. True, Vergil was too quick to pass judgement, and Dante… Well, I could go on and on about Dante.

But they were reliable and quick-witted. They could handle themselves. I did not need to intercede for them every time something went awry.

They'd both been trying to convince me of that for years, though the staggering influx of demonic power hovering upstairs like a stormcloud was not helping their case. The young woman in front of me followed my gaze toward the ceiling, confusion written on her face. "Sir…?" she prompted.

Though I could not mask my frown, I looked back to her. "My apologies. The stables, you said?"

She nodded.

"Down this hall." I gestured behind her. "Take the third right you come across. That will take you to a side door, which is closest to the stables. The main gate is closed at the moment, so you may need to sweet-talk the guards, but I'm certain you can handle that."

She blinked. Her hand listed toward her side where she likely had some hidden dagger, as though I would be so heartless as to give a young lady trouble.

"I have something I need to attend to," I continued, "but please do say good things about me to those in Fortuna." Any other time, I would have asked her a few questions. It was rare I was able to talk to a Fortunan in person, and they almost never sent spies. I would have loved to sit down and have a talk with her, but my sons were in some trouble they likely started.

Without waiting for her response, I turned and hurried toward the second floor. Had it just been Vergil and Dante's powers clashing, I wouldn't have felt any concern. Days where those two didn't fight were more surprising. The trouble was the other presence. It seemed to flicker and pulse like wavering candlelight. Though I felt certain it was Nero's power, it felt so little like what I'd experienced from him before.

This was too violent, too sporadic.

And I could smell far too much blood in the air.

"Vergil, stop!" I heard Dante snarl as I took the stairs two at a time.

"How can you continue to defend him!?" Vergil barked in return.

It sounded to me that Vergil was about to start the war I'd just finished signing an agreement to prevent. To that end, I would have been on Dante's side. Reaching the top step to find a glowing, bloodied arm sticking through my son stopped all reason.

I'd always taken pride in maintaining a grip on my temper, but seeing Dante gored through the gut with a goddamned arm brought back that night I'd come home to a blood-soaked castle. I would not allow anyone to hurt my sons like that again.

Perhaps the release of my demonic energy slapped Nero back to his senses because he tore his arm free just in time to keep himself from losing it. That wasn't enough to stop me from grabbing him by the throat and slamming him into the wall. In fact, all that saved him from going through the wall was Dante's irritated shout of, "Goddammit, Dad, not you too!"

Nero clawed at my grip on his neck even as my hand returned to a human shape. His eyes rolled back as he gargled for air. Just a few more seconds wouldn't kill him.

"Dad," Dante scolded once more. I turned to find him matching my glare. "Stop. Think about what you're doing. It's fine. I'm fine."

Anyone else wouldn't have been, but it was true. The damage was already on the mend, muscles stitching back together under light new layers of skin. His shirt was not so lucky, though Dante had never been that attached to his shirts. He seemed to forget to wear them more often than not. Still, despite that unfortunate casualty, I released the worst of my anger with a sigh and let go of Nero.

I was forced to grab him again - this time by the collar - to prevent him from collapsing to the ground as he choked on fresh air.

"He tried to kill you," Vergil said to his brother, eyes still narrowed at Nero. "It's hardly fine."

"To be fair, he was trying to kill you," Dante said. "I just got in the way."

"And you're fine with that?"

Dante shrugged. "You provoked him."

"Not to the extent that he should have reacted in that manner."

"He can't help it."

"Can't help it!?"

"Boys," I cut in. "If you must argue, can't you put your swords away first?"

They both looked to the weapons they still held, then to each other. As they glanced off in feigned-innocence, Dante leaned the flat of Rebellion against his shoulder. Vergil placed Yamato's blade between the tips of his fingers.

"Then go to the courtyard to fight," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "If I ever have to hear another word about how you two are mature enough to handle yourselves, I'll eat my coat. I'll look after Nero. You two… Just don't kill each other."

Having regained some form of consciousness, Nero had his head clutched in his hands. A soft, endless groan could be heard from him if I listened closely. That may have had something to do with the massive crack in the wall behind him where the back of his head made initial contact.

Regret was starting to catch up to me. Rather hypocritical to lose my head in response to him doing the same.

"You're not going to kill him or anything are you?" Dante asked. I hated to see the worry in his eyes as he looked at Nero. My son had a terrible habit of growing attached to people who tried to kill him, but I couldn't blame him when it came to the little prince. Nero was oddly endearing, perhaps because he reminded me of my sons.

Now that I was back in my right mind, I was glad Dante had stopped me from doing him serious harm. It would have caused considerable problems with Fortuna, and recalling my desire to tear him apart made me quite ill. Had I been in Dante's place, I felt certain I would have stuck up for the little prince as well.

"I won't harm him," I said. "Do not worry yourself."

Vergil tsked in displeasure but did not argue further. Dante looked as though he might, so I pulled a dazed Nero away before he could try.

"What the hell?" Nero muttered as he followed my lead. "What the hell?"

"My apologies," I said before sweeping his feet out from under him. I didn't trust them to hold him on the way downstairs, but being carried did bring him back to his senses.

"What are you doing? No! Do not carry me!" He shoved his hands against my face and tried twisting himself out of my grip. Though his attempts did little, I could have done without having my son's blood smeared across my face. He noticed as well, perhaps for the first time. His fighting stopped, replaced by a trembling that infected his whole form. Pale as death, he stared at his blood-soaked arm. "Fuck," he whispered at length. "Fuck. I didn't mean to. Fuck fuck fuck."

"Relax," I said despite knowing he wouldn't. "Dante is fine. While I would prefer you didn't run either of my sons through, that is not enough to kill them. They're fairly hardy."

He turned to me but seemed to be seeing something else. "That was...you. That thing. That was you."

"Well, yes, but I do prefer my human form. Frightens less children." Nero did not seem afraid, though. Nor surprised. Rather, he looked like a man who had lost something,

"Why didn't you kill me?" he asked, his brow pinched as he curled his demonic hand into and out of a fist. He watched it as thought he'd never seen it before.

"Many reasons," I said. "It would have been wrong of me to do so, don't you think?"

"But that's what demons do. They kill people."

"I believe we've talked about this before, Nero, and as I said before, that does not have to be the case."

"I…" His shoulders sank. "You can stop carrying me."

"I don't mind." I offered him a smile so I could see his usual annoyance return.

"Why are you both like this?" he asked.

"It is rather easy to carry you. You're quite small."

I received about the reaction I expected and deserved when he shoved his human hand to my face once again and renewed his attempts to free himself. His legs kicked like a child throwing a tantrum. Unfortunately for him, we'd arrived at my room, and I only released him after closing the door behind me. He had not planned for his sudden freedom, promptly falling to the floor in a heap.

"I thought you might like to wash up," I said, taking my basin and placing it to the floor beside him. When he sat up and peered into the wobbling water, his eyes went wide at the sight of his own face covered in blood.

"It's everywhere," he hissed.

"Yes, and it stains terribly," I said. Kneeling beside him, I grabbed hold of his glowing arm and snapped off the remaining cracked pieces of armor.

He gasped his offense, but I spoke over him. "It was beyond repair already. The damage has been done. There is no point in continuing to hide." Keeping one hand locked around his wrist, I soaked a fresh rag in the water and set to scrubbing the blood from the curious arm. In my experience, half demons could usually keep to a full human form, but it seemed part of Nero's demonic side had bled over.

"Has it always been like this?" I asked.

"I-I can do this myself."

It was only then I realized how tense he was, how hard he was trying to pull his arm from my grip. He would not succeed. "I want to see the thing that harmed my son," I admitted. "Allow me this. I won't cause you any harm."

He did not relax, but he stopped fighting me. The arm was quite a marvel, perhaps the source of much of his power. It glowed a dim blue like dusk, oddly beautiful when it wasn't covered in gore.

"So," I began again. "Has it always been like this?"

"No," he answered with hesitation, his eyes on the floor. "But it has been for a long time."

"When did it change?"

"I was, I don't know, seven maybe? Started changing."

"What started it? Did something happen?" That was about the age my boys first began manifesting their true powers, but there had been a trigger.

He didn't respond at first, his gaze somewhere far from whatever the floor was showing him. "Like what?" he asked.

"A demon attack?" The only real trigger I'd seen. "Something startling perhaps?"

He looked to his hand as I finished scrubbing the dark claws. "There was…" His voice faded. "The routine changed, but… But it was fine. I started taking the medicine."

My movements halted. "Medicine?" I echoed. "What for?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Exhaustion seemed to settle over him. When I released his arm, he let it sink into the red-hued water.

"Nero, I just reached an agreement with Fortuna," I said. "It was not the one I wanted, but I received word that they were preparing their army. They would agree to all of my terms except that I be allowed to remain in contact with you, and in the end, I conceded that. But as per our agreement, I have to send you back tomorrow."

"I'm going home?" He seemed to regain some vigor at the thought, his eyes wide with surprise but… not relief.

"What does this medicine do, Nero?"

Tugging the rag from my hands, he soaked it again and started scrubbing his face free of congealing blood. He was so rough, I thought he might rub off his skin as well. "I don't know," he said in a tone I could not read. "But it helps. I guess I need it to not be crazy."

A clawing began in the pit of my stomach. "Do you have any of this medicine with you?"

"No," he said too quickly. "I haven't been taking it since I got here."

Then that concoction, whatever it was, was the piece I'd been missing. That was the reason Nero's powers were so erratic. They'd found some drug to suppress his demonic side. It was no wonder, then, that he couldn't handle all his anger or his demonic power - it was all swarming him at once. That dam had broken, and Nero was not prepared for the consequences.

I could not imagine that those overseeing him had expected it to hold forever. They'd always been playing a dangerous game, waiting for the trap to snap shut on them.

That did not need to be the case, though. We could teach him. He wasn't beyond reason. He just needed some aid, some instruction.

But there was no time now.

I'd already signed him back over to those bastards who'd done this to him in the first place.

Dropping the rag back into the basin, he stood. "Anyway, thanks for, uh, I don't know. Whatever. I guess we're even now or something." He started to leave, and I could not accept it. He couldn't leave. I would not allow Fortuna to have him back when they would allow him to destroy himself.

I shot to my feet, grabbing him by the wrist once more to pull him back. That was the trouble with demons. We were so selfish. We never cared for the desires of others.

Nero looked back in surprise and confusion, but he did not pull away.

I'd chosen long ago to overcome that selfish side of myself. I'd sworn protection to the strange, fantastic humans who chose me as their king for some impossible reason. I could not throw all of their lives into chaos for the sake of one, no matter how much I wanted to.

I could not keep him. I could not protect him. I had to give this one up for the lives of the many.

"Please do not tell Dante that you're leaving tomorrow," I said against all the other words battling in my throat.

His head listed to the side. "Okay?"

With a nod, I released him. He took a slow step back, puzzled, before turning and pulling open the door. "Hey, uh," he said without looking back. "I'm still not a demon, alright?"

"You are as you choose to be," I said.

I heard his near-silent sigh as he slipped out, shutting the door behind him, and I stood there wondering if it was cruel or kind of me to let him feel relieved as I let him go to his demise.

"My deepest apologies, little prince," I murmured.

I'm in the Credo fan club and the "Nero Getting his Ass Kicked" fan club.

Anyway, leave me a review or somethin'. Feed my ego.