"So is this whole fic just going to be Nero having a bad time?"
Oh no, I've been found out. Oh noooo.
Well, it's that and gun horses.

The world was out to get my coat. Somehow, the latest tear was straight enough that a patch job wouldn't be too noticeable. The run was long, though, likely stretched from when Nero had ripped his hand free. Just like swords and arrows, hands hurt much worse coming out than going in.

There was probably an innuendo in that somewhere, but Vergil spoke before I could get a handle on it.

"We can have a new coat made for you," he said as I cut a length of red thread. "That thing is getting awfully tattered."

"Still perfectly good," I said around the needle in my teeth. Plopping down on my bed, I took the needle between my fingers and threaded it while Vergil glanced around my room with that usual "everything in here is diseased" look.

"You're too sentimental," he said. "You never wish to be rid of things."

I felt a lecture was imminent. Vergil never came into my room just to say hi. Actually, Vergil didn't enter my room at all, but after he decided against finishing our fight, he'd followed me back here. I had a feeling he'd stuck at my heels so he could make sure I didn't go after Nero. He and I weren't through with the issue of the kid.

If I let him start, though, he'd never shut up, so I spoke first. "It's funny how upset you were that I got stabbed when you run me through all the time," I said as I set to stitching.

"I was not upset." He was too straightforward to manage a lie like that. "And I do not run you through all the time!"

"You've still got the record." Glancing up from my work, I could see how much he wanted to bite back. He glared down his nose at me, but he didn't take the bait.

"Why are you so determined to look after this boy you hardly know?" he asked.

I jammed the needle into the pad of my thumb for an excuse to curse. Whatever answer I gave wouldn't matter. He'd find some excuse to turn my reasoning against me and tell me off. I wasn't in the mood, so I mirrored one of his smirks and shot one of his own unfair questions back at him.

"Aren't we supposed to be preventing a war? Why are you so determined to kill him?"

"You're avoiding the question."

"So are you."

Though he tried to hide it by running his hand through his hair, a headache or a desire to kill me throbbed behind his eyes. "Very well," he bit out. "You've never paid attention to our negotiations with Fortuna before, so you couldn't understand. I will attempt to explain this concisely."

My brows shot up. Vergil had never been concise in his life.

"It is true that killing the boy would cause war, but given the circumstances, war is inevitable. Fortuna has made several advances on our borders and attempted to claim plots of our land as their own. As things stand, if we intercept their advances, they play the victim. They always play the victim in an effort add fuel to the fire and upset their people. That is Fortuna's goal. The church wants Capulet to create the inciting factor so they may rally their people against us. If Nero's death is not the final straw, it will be something else. Father cannot continue to subdue them with old treaties, no matter how much he desires to prevent conflict."

I blinked away the glaze over my eyes once he seemed done. On the upside, I was making great progress in my stitches.

"Verge, could you tone down the pessimism for once? There's always a chance things will work out, even if it's a small chance. We can't jump to conclusions and murder kids just because things seem like shit."

"He's not a child."

I snorted. Like he had any room to talk, calling the kid "boy" all the time. "Regardless," I said, shaking my head. "Smarter to get the kid on our side, isn't it? Then he won't be so keen on fighting us. He doesn't seem like the type to want a war anyway."

"The boy will do us little good. He has no power because the church is keeping the crown from him, and he's too stupid to have realized as much."

"Good to have him as an ally regardless."

Arguing with Vergil over something like this was pointless. He was already invested in trying to kill the kid. That didn't mean I was going to give up. He and I could stand face-to-face for a week and never see eye-to-eye.

"He's far too unstable to be a reliable ally," Vergil said, the harsh edges smoothed from his voice. "He may only be useful if he kills some Fortunan leaders in one of his blinded fits."

"Oh come on, Verge." He was making it harder and harder to force a smile. "He's not a bloodthirsty demon. You and I just have a knack for pissing him off." Being cooped-up as a prisoner likely wasn't helping matters. I certainly got antsy when I wasn't allowed outside the castle walls. The more I mulled over the idea, the more obvious it seemed. Taking Nero out to kill some demons would do him some good for sure.

The thought would have been enough to cheer me up had I not heard part of what Vergil had been droning on about while I was tuning him out. "As things stand, we cannot win the war without mass casualties. Father would not allow either of us to fight against humans, and the same goes for any of our demon allies. We hardly have an 'army' considering our fighters are mostly bowmen and farmers trained to deal with demons. Even if we relied on guerrilla tactics against the trained, armored knights of Fortuna's army, and somehow pulled out a win, it could be devastating if Fortuna allowed Nero on the field, especially if he is no longer in control of himself."

With a sigh, I snapped off my tied thread and shrugged on my coat. "Geez, Verge, I love you, but you're such a drag. But I guess if there's no avoiding it, we should just get to keep the kid."

If anything could cheer me up, it was the way Vergil's expression soured when he was shown affection, like he's stubbed his toe. "You can't-" he huffed, still trying to get ahold of himself as I bit back a grin. "You cannot keep the boy. He's not a pet, Dante."

"Aw, please." I dragged out the word and put on my best pout. "I'll feed him and everything."

"Dante, I swear-"

The door of Nero's room snapping open and shut cut him off. Even he couldn't hide his curiosity at how the kid was faring.

"Guess I'd better check on my new pet," I said. "Make sure Dad didn't do anything too weird."

Vergil scoffed. "You think Father is the troublesome one?"

I'd never claimed any of us weren't trouble, but Dad was unpredictable at times. Vergil was easy to gauge. Call it that twin intuition or whatever, but I knew how he would react to anything. Dad, on the other hand, I could never pigeonhole.

Once again, Vergil trailed after me as I popped over to Nero's room. "Hey, kid!" was all the warning I gave him before booting open his door. To his credit, Nero had managed to get the desk chair in his hands and was halfway to raising it in offense. When he recognized us, though, he took a step back, holding the chair up as a shield. His glare was over my shoulder, where Vergil stood.

"Relax, boy," Vergil drawled. "I have no need to fight you as long as you can keep ahold of yourself."

Vergil's tone didn't help his case. He was bound to piss the kid off again, and the last thing I wanted was another fight. In small spaces, I couldn't do much but step between them. Just because I healed fast didn't mean being stabbed didn't hurt like hell.

Nero looked like he was about to bark his offense, but when he opened his mouth, his hand shot to cover it. Short, wheezing coughs left him instead, like he'd sucked in air the wrong way.

"Swallow your spit or something?" I asked as I strode up and whapped him on the back. Though he tried to sidle away, I leaned close to look at his neck. "You don't have any bruising from where Dad grabbed you, so I don't think he did any real damage. You're healing much faster than when we first met."

The coughing died down as soon as it started, and I found the chair placed between us as he stepped out of my reach. "Yeah, I guess," he said, looking to his human hand as his brows pinched. I'd seen that hand bandaged the day after I brought him, but he wouldn't tell me why. Whatever the problem, it had healed by the next day. The same went for the cut on his forehead.

"You don't typically heal faster than humans?" Vergil asked from where he stood leaning against the doorframe. He was just doing it to block the exit should Nero try to bolt, and while I didn't care for the intimidation tactic, Nero was looking like a rabbit trying to wriggle out of a snare.

"I heal faster than most people, but not like you." His eyes locked on my middle. "It's really just…?"

Flashing him a grin, I pulled up my shirt for him to see. "Still a little scarring right now, but that'll heal up."

Using his hand as a shield, he averted his gaze with a hissed, "Keep your goddamn clothes on!"

"It's an injustice to keep art from the world," I said.

Both of them groaning in agony had me snickering. Hassling them never got old. "Anyway, kid," I said. "If you want to kill me, you should try aiming higher next time." I cut my thumb across my throat with a click of my tongue.

Judging by the regret in Nero's eyes, he didn't care for the tip. "I wasn't...trying to kill you, okay?"

"Your actions suggest otherwise," Vergil said. "Do not pretend you're not at fault."

"Yeah," Nero sighed. "Sorry."

Even Vergil's eyes went wide at that, but Nero didn't leave time for his apology to sink in.

"Now would you two leave so I can go to bed?" he said. His demonic arm was bound at his side so tightly that it trembled. With his hand curled into a fist, those claws must have been biting into his palm, but Vergil's words seemed to have cut deeper.

Nero was growing more and more scared of his own power. I could see as much in the way he held himself, the way he kept his distance. He wasn't afraid of us. He was afraid for us.

He shouldn't have been. We weren't the ones to look out for. We could handle ourselves, but if he lost it around a human, they wouldn't survive more than a few seconds against him.

Fear wouldn't do him any good. He'd try locking his demonic ticks away, and the pressure would overwhelm him sooner or later. He needed to learn some control, and I could teach him that. Probably.

"I was thinking we should go demon hunting," I said. "I haven't been out of the castle since I nabbed you."

Nero scowled at the reminder.

"It's stuffy in here and I could use some practice." Not giving him the chance to turn me down, I slipped around the chair, latched my hand to his shoulder and pushed him toward the door.

Vergil didn't move. "You're going to go out at a time like this? You know you'll have to give the boy a suitable weapon if you're going against demons." What he wanted to say was that giving the kid a better means to kill me and escape was stupid.

Stupid ideas had never put me off. "You want to come with?" I chirped.

"No."

"I don't-" Nero began.

"Don't worry, kid," I interrupted. "I'll make sure none of the big, scary demons get you again."

He barreled headfirst into my trap with a snarl. "I can handle myself against demons!"

"Great, then we'll go."

Realizing his mistake, Nero searched for an excuse or insult before giving up with a growl.

Though he shook his head, Vergil stepped out of the way. "Don't do anything too foolish," he said.

I put my hand to my chest with a gasp. "Who, me?"

One of those rare, genuine smiles tugged at his lips for an instant. I'd remind him of it next time he told me I wasn't funny.

For now, I needed to get going. If I wasn't quick, Dad would sense that I was doing something he wouldn't like. I only stopped by my room long enough to snatch Alastor from the wall. "Do I get that one?" Nero asked, a fire of excitement in his eyes.

"Nah, he's finicky, but I'll let you borrow Rebellion." Less of a chance of me getting electrocuted this way. The spidery burns from the lightning hurt for days and took ages to heal.

Nero didn't seem put off, his pace even with mine as I headed downstairs. A kid after my own heart, he just wanted a good fight. I was certain I could find something for him to wail on. Some areas outside the castle grounds swarmed with demons.

"So," I began, trying to distract his obvious attempt at memorizing our path. "Dad wasn't too weird, right?"

He shrugged, still turning to every detail on the walls. "He was fine."

"What did you talk about?"

His attention diverted for a breath as he thought up what must have been a lie. "He was just nosy about my arm, I guess."

I could tell I wouldn't get more from him on the subject without him getting defensive, so I kept my voice light and pivoted to the new topic. "So does that arm do anything fancy, or is it just for show?"

"Oh, uh." The clawed fingertips brushed the bridge of his nose. "I'm not supposed to-"

"Says who?" Well, those weird church guys probably. With how demonic the arm looked, any abilities that highlighted that were a bad sign, considering the church was trying to pass the kid off as holy or whatever bullshit they'd been spouting.

"I'm not very good at it," Nero said. He looked up from his hiding place behind his bangs toward the door at the end of the hall. "Is that where we're going?"

I nodded. "We need to go to the stables before we can head out. It would be a bit of a walk before we ran into any demons. Lesser ones get skittish near my father."

He put his demon arm up in front of him as though trying to push away something invisible. A pulse of blue light flared from it as he released a breath. Still five paces away, the door slammed open with a bang. Like some trick of a mirror, a phantom version of his arm faded from the scene.

As I gave him a small round of applause, he gripped his demon hand with his human one, flexing the glowing fingers. Though he tried to hide his wince, I could see his eyes twitch. "Not really used to it," he said. "First time I tried that I threw the door off its hinges."

"So you were holding back? You won't have to do that against demons. Damn, now I'm jealous. That thing looks fun."

He matched my smile with a scowl. "No, it's a pain. Gets all weird around demons, and it's itchy as hell. Do you know how hard it is to sleep with your arm glowing through the blankets?"

"I guess that's fair, but it does look cool."

He shook his head. "There's a reason I have to keep it hidden. It scares the hell out of people."

I wondered if that was the reason the church had given him to hide it or if he'd determined that for himself. "The people of this castle have seen stranger," I offered as we stepped outside. If he remembered seeing Dad's demon form, he would understand my meaning, though I wasn't sure I wanted him to remember that. If he did, he said nothing, looking up at the night sky instead.

Last time I'd taken him outside had been during the day, and now he was so entranced by the stars, I found myself unable to pull him to the stables. "Don't get out much, do you kid?" I asked.

"I've only been out at night a few times," he said. "It's pretty. There are pictures in the stars, right?"

His words felt like a punch to the gut. Seemed like we weren't the only ones to hold him prisoner. "Astrology's not my forte," I said. "I know people like to connect the stars and say they look like things. I don't get it, but Dad's into that stuff. You can ask him later."

He answered with a disappointed hum and dropped his gaze. I guessed he didn't care for the idea of dealing with Dad more. I couldn't blame him exactly.

In the stables, Ebony showed his disapproval at being woken up by turning to nip at me as I cinched his saddle and reins.

Behind me, I heard Nero yelp and found him playing tug with Luce over the hem of his coat. "Let go!" Nero demanded, but the horse's bite stayed firm.

"Just pet her," I said. "She wants attention."

Nero stared down the horse as he raised his hand to its nose. "Bite me, and I'll knock those teeth out."

"Luce is harmless," I said, returning to Ebony. "She's Dad's. Vergil's horse is across the way." I tilted my head toward him. "Over there. That's Ivory."

Besides the snorts of horses, the stables went silent until Nero broke it with, "You really all just named them after their colors? What are you, five?"

Turning to him in confusion, I found Luce nudging the side of his head, making it hard to take his offense seriously.

"What kind of color is 'Luce?'" I asked.

"Oh, woof," he sighed, his hand covering his face. "It means Light in the old tongue." He'd clearly been spending too much time around Vergil.

"Light isn't really a color," I said as I pulled myself onto Ebony's back.

Nero belatedly noticed something amiss, glancing around the stables. "Hey, which one do I get?"

Grabbing him by the collar, I hauled him up to sit in front of me. He flailed more than helped. "You think you get your own horse after you hurt their feelings like that? Besides, most of these horses bolt if they so much as smell a demon. Ivory and Luce don't, but Vergil would kill me if I let someone touch his horse."

"What about Luce?" he asked through a growl, his fingers digging into the front of the saddle as he begrudgingly settled himself. If I didn't know better, I would have thought he didn't like being around me.

"Luce is just like my old man - gets senile and wanders off sometimes."

"Are you just worried I'll try to run?"

"Given your track record, can you blame me?"

Instead of answering, he grumbled as I grabbed the reins around him. "Just let me have the reins."

"Then I'd have to hold onto you." Amusing as the idea was, I knew if I tried to grab him by the waist, he'd rip my head off without hesitation.

He made a gagging noise to confirm my suspicion. "Then I'd rather sit behind you. I don't like not being able to see you."

Maybe I wasn't as worried about being decapitated as I thought because I couldn't pass up the opportunity. "I prefer this position myself, but I'm not too picky. I'm always up for switching."

"Okay then, can we switch?"

Nothing had changed in his voice, no dry annoyance or rage or- well, interest, but I wouldn't have known how to respond to that.

The whole thing flew over his head.

"Actually, then you'd have to hold onto me," I said. "So we'll just do it this way."

"Ugh, whatever."

Before I fell too deep into the rabbit hole of worrying that I might need to explain sex to a kid raised by the church, I arrived at the gate to find it wide open. We never left the portcullis raised at night.

"What idiots-?"

"Your Highness!" Agni greeted from the crow's nest overlooking the wall.

"Your Highness!" his brother echoed.

"Oh," I sighed.

Nero squinted up at them and flexed his arm. "You keep demons as guards?" he asked.

"Yeah, Agni and Rudra - a couple of Dad's pets. I like them better as swords, but what can you do?"

"Swords? What?"

Their current bodies were nothing impressive. Dad had them maintain small human forms, so they couldn't cause too much trouble. Their eyes gave them away, though, glowing blue and red at night.

"Why's the gate open?" I called. "You two know better."

"There was a girl," Rudra said. "She needed to go out and get something and said she would be right back."

Nero's shoulders went taut as he sank his claws into the saddle again. I'd heard Vergil saying something about a girl to him before they fought.

"I think she was lying," I said.

"Why would she lie to leave?" Agni asked. "His Majesty said people would lie to get in. We don't let people in, Your Highness."

"Yeah, great, keep that up. Listen, I'll explain later." Actually, I'd get Dad to do it because talking to those two was exhausting. "Just close the gate behind me. You can reopen it when I get back."

"What if the girl comes back?" Rudra asked.

"She won't." I kicked Ebony into a run before they could pester me with further questions.

"Why does your dad keep demons around if he's supposed to care about humans?" Nero called over the sound of the gallop.

"Many demons respect him and are willing to follow his beliefs. I don't really get it, but I guess Dad's kind of a charmer."

"And the humans who work at your castle are okay with all the demons running around?"

Truthfully, many of them had no idea, but I had a feeling Nero wouldn't appreciate that information. "People will put aside a lot for my father. I mean, do you hate him?"

"What?" he squawked.

"Can you honestly say you hate my father even though he's a demon?"

Nero went silent for so long that I thought he wouldn't answer, but when he did speak, his answer was firm. "No. I don't."

"He has that effect on people. Don't know how he does it, but he's a hard man to hate."

"I guess you got that from him."

I wasn't sure what I expected, but it wasn't that. Falling off Ebony would have felt like less of a blow to the head. "What?" I asked, pretending not to hear in hopes that he would repeat himself.

"Nothing!" he seemed to stumble over himself to say.

Likely trying to escape the conversation, Nero tilted forward into the run like Ebony. He may not have gotten out much, but he was comfortable with the quirks of horseback. The wind made a mess of his hair, but he was smiling until I leaned in so that I wouldn't have to yell over the hoofbeats. "I was right, wasn't I? About the girl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." His tense expression said otherwise.

"I heard Vergil talking to you."

His arm flashed bright enough to bring color to the flowers rushing by. "Drop it," he said.

"Fine-fine. I just wanted to make sure she wasn't causing you trouble or trying to poison my family or something."

"She wouldn't do something like that."

"Then you know her well?"

His lips sealed at that, so I focused on our path instead. The best place to find a swarm was the old war battlegrounds. A couple hundred years meant little to a demons who liked to wallow in suffering. As we neared the closest one, Nero held up his arm. A steady pulse of light flared from it.

"We're getting close to some," he said.

"Oh, neat." I dropped my chin into his hair to see the arm better, ignoring his growl. "Pretty useful-"

"If you're going to make a torch joke, don't. I've heard them enough."

"I was going to say it makes a great beacon to draw the demons toward us, but the torch one's good too."

Ebony's pace slowed to a stop. He bobbed his head and snorted to let me know that was as far as he was going. Whatever was over the ridge ahead was going to be fun if Ebony was already this irked. Something gave a scream from the other side. Sounded like they'd noticed our arrival.

"Showtime, kid," I said as I hopped down.

"What was that?" he asked, following.

I grinned and pulled Rebellion from my back for him. "A good time."

He went all starry-eyed like a kid with a new toy as he took hold of Rebellion. I couldn't say I was thrilled to loan out the sword, and Dad would definitely have had a fit over it. But I was curious to see if Nero could wield it. If he couldn't handle Rebellion yet, the other Devil Arms were out of the question.

He took a couple practice swings, over correcting a bit and having to take steps to steady himself against the sword's weight.

"Feel alright?" I asked.

He smirked before spinning on his heel to face whatever was coming up over the ridge. "It'll do."

Another shriek sounded, followed by a chorus of them. In a blink, a half dozen towering Sloths appeared. The air tinged heavy with the scent of sulfur and burnt flesh.

"What the hell are those?" Nero asked. "They look kind of human."

"They're not." But I was relieved to see how anxious the idea made him. "They're Sloths, a bit of a pain to deal with if you're not used to them, so let me show you."

As much as I wanted to show off, I also wanted him to see how they fought. Sloths were cheap, tricky bastards. That idea went out the window when I found him chasing at my heels. "I can handle them!" he said.

That line sounded familiar. "Like you handled the Blades?"

He wasn't listening, rushing in to swing at the nearest Sloth. It vanished from his path. With a yell of confusion, he stumbled in correcting his balance. Before I could warn him, he slammed his heel down and threw his weight into a pivot just as the Sloth appeared behind him. Rebellion clashed with the Sloth's scythe before it could cleave into the kid.

"Nice one!" I yelled as I flipped Alastor to an underhanded grip and jammed it into the Sloth that had appeared at my back. With another one of those obnoxious screams, it burst into sand. "But next time try not to fall over."

"I didn't fall!" Throwing the Sloth's guard open, he shot his literal devil arm toward it. Once again, that ghostly version of it appeared to smash the demon into the earth. The ground seemed to open up and swallow the thing.

Once Nero learned their pattern, which he noted with a smirk and a, "Is that your only party trick? Come on," the battle became even more one-sided than it had been before.

I let him finish off the last one because I didn't want him to lose the childish grin that had spread across his face during the fight.

"And you wanted to stay at the castle and sleep," I taunted as I ruffled some clinging sand from my hair.

His laugh was strained through harsh breaths as he leaned against Rebellion's hilt, the blade jammed into the ground. "Do you need to hear that you were right a certain number of times a day to function?"

"Pretty much." As I neared him, I noticed his hair sticking to his brow from sweat. "Already wear yourself out, kid? I was hoping to go find more of a challenge."

"I'm just out of practice s'all." Maybe it was the glow of his arm, but he had a pallor to him that I didn't trust. Then that odd cough hit him again, morphing into a forceful rattle that shook his whole body. When his hand moved from his mouth, a smear of blood remained around his lips. As I stood frozen, trying to remember if I'd seen him take a hit, he frowned at the blood coating his hand. "Dammit," he grumbled. "Not now."

"Not now!?" I parroted, still feeling like the ground had dropped out from under me.

No concern touched his eyes when he looked up to me, only annoyance and a twinge of pain. "It's fine. It happens all the time."

I couldn't seem to grasp any thought but the word no, looping in my head. "What the fuck, kid? This isn't normal. This shouldn't happen to you regularly." I'd heard of diseases that did things like that to people, but Nero was too healthy to have anything like that. He'd just taken out several demons with ease, and hell, he was part demon. I'd already seen proof of his healing capabilities.

He shrugged. "Honestly, it happens every day. A little worse than usual now, but I probably just overdid it."

That wasn't enough. He was hiding something. I could deal with him not wanting to tell me about his time with Dad or who the girl was, but I could not accept this. Storming up to him, I grabbed him by the shoulders so he couldn't keep his eyes from me. "Kid, I've been stuck to you all week, and I hadn't heard a cough out of you until tonight. What's going on?"

"I don't know." He couldn't hold my gaze. "Probably just a side effect."

"Of what?" I growled.

I thought he shut his eyes to keep from revealing anything to me, but he broke his silence with a yell. "Goddamn, Dante, let go of me!"

My hands flew from him as I realized I'd all but crushed his bones in my grip. He should have fought back, should have punched another hole through me for hurting him. As things were, he took shallow breaths between the weak coughs still clawing up his throat.

"It's fine," he said again. "It just happens. I'll get over it. This is normal."

"It shouldn't be."

Part of me, a frighteningly large part, wanted to track down that girl and demand to know what she'd done to him. I couldn't think of another source of the sudden change, and not knowing what was wrong made rage boil under my skin. But now wasn't the time.

"We'll head back," I said. "You need to get some rest."

"I can handle it!" He tried to control the shaking in his limbs, tried to harden his eyes to mask the pain. "I'm used to it. We can keep fighting."

I had to fight down a fresh wave of red-hot anger at his words. He should not have been used to something like that. Those Fortuna bastards had done something to him, caused him unnecessary pain every damned day, and for that, I could not allow them to have him back.

For now, I needed to keep Nero from killing himself. My anger could wait. Putting my thumb and middle finger between my lips, I whistled for Ebony.

"Can I at least ride in back this time?" Nero asked. He must have seen in my face that there would be no more fighting tonight.

"Sure, kid, just hang on tight."

He didn't want to hold onto me, but I grabbed his devil arm and held it around my middle with one hand, my other on the reins. Despite his weak protests, he didn't pull away. That was for the best, as he fell asleep against my back within minutes.

With every breath, I could feel his chest rattle.

With every breath, I forced myself to remember my promise not to kill humans.

Then again, whoever did this to him couldn't have been human.

Special thanks to my reviewers, especially my very sweet guest reviewers. One of them was even nice enough to point out a plot point I forgot to cover sooner. Whoops.

Weird non-consensus from my reviews so far has been one vote for no Dante/Nero, one vote for Dante/Nero, one vote for no Sparda/Nero. So uh... everything is going to be ambiguous and/or unrequited. Finger guns.