AN: Thanks for the reviews! I was trying not to fall asleep while writing this chapter this morning. I had to wake up really earlier to do some errands and when I came back I started typing this out. Omg at first there were so many grammatical errors. I was like wtf was I thinking this morning? I kill myself sometimes. I didn't think about going this direction with the story but today when I started typing this is what came out so I guess my brain ended up having different ideas.
Dante sat at his desk in the office of Devil May Cry, magazines sprawled out in front of him. All of them open to random pages, the pictures and words were nothing but a blur to Dante. His eyes were focused on them but at the same time distant. It was the only distraction he had for himself at the moment. Even the music coming from the jukebox in the corner of the room didn't seem to be reaching his ears. Nothing but a muffled buzzing was cutting through to him.
Lady had stopped coming around as often as she used to. Her stops at Devil May Cry were once frequent and most of the time they involved easy banter as she disassembled her weapons. Even that nervous habit of hers became less frequent the more time she had spent at the office.
That was at least six months ago though from what Dante could remember. Time seemed to have no meaning now. Days just lapped into one another, none of them having any significant importance.
Over time it became harder for the both of them to maintain the once easy friendship. What once felt to Dante, a relationship as easy a breathing now felt like more of a forced task. For the first few months of the deterioration Lady tried her hardest with him. She even started doing things she hadn't before hoping that it would shake Dante out of the constant quiet that he lived in. She would bring him food along with his favorite magazines, she even tried giving him the not so terrible missions, only giving him the ones that paid above average and didn't involve traveling to small islands.
Something wasn't right though, her acts of kindness were feeling more forced to her too. Dante never seemed to notice her different moods when she came in though. The silence that started to fall between them was no longer the comfortable silence shared between two friends. Lady could feel it every time they were in the same room, the heavy weight falling between them.
After months of their slow deterioration and one particular long day of watching Dante stare with empty worn eyes at magazines, Lady stormed out of the office without one word to him. At the time her mind was screaming at her to say every terrible thing she could think of at him but she bit her tongue knowing that regardless of what she said it wouldn't change how he had been acting. The stomping of her footsteps weren't enough to distract him, it was only until he heard the front door to his office slam shut rattling the windows surrounding it that he finally looked up to see what had happened.
He was aware how hard Lady had been trying but even over time he couldn't bring himself to force on the conversations anymore. Lady resorted to only coming into the office to give Dante a few jobs here and there, walking into the store only to toss a piece of paper on his desk with the details of the jobs. Every time she walked into the shop, her human footsteps loud against the wooden floor, Dante searched for something to say to her. This was the woman who he met so many years ago when she was still just a young girl filled with conviction. He felt like this should be easier, this was one of the very few people still alive that ever saw him as who he really was, so why was trying to talk to her so hard?
That morning she had dropped a piece of paper off, not even bothering to greet Dante. He watched her walk out of the door, a habit he tended to have now. Waiting to see if he could bring himself to say something to her. I'm sorry things are this way right now. The words were so clear in his head, so loud that each time she walked in he was convinced that he had said the words to her. Along with so many others. When she left though with out saying anything he knew that he never said spoken.
Trish's visits were less frequent than Lady's, choosing to take a lot of jobs outside of the city's limits. The silence that was between Trish and Dante was less severe. Trish never questioned it. She saw the distance in his eyes, the way he carried himself now when he was inside the comfort of his home. Trish may not have understood exactly why it was that Dante had become this way but she new better than to try to force anything with him. She saw how hard Lady had been trying with him, knowing how Lady's frustration was just building inside of her. It wasn't like Lady to be doing such things, she only tried because really Dante was the only person she had left that actually knew who she was.
Trish may not have known what it was that was eating away at Dante now but she understood better than anyone the weight of the job that they did. The actions that they made along with the repercussions. How hard it is watching everyone around you leave, some of them not being able to come back, watching their deaths. For Trish she knew she could never love anyone because of the possibilities of what could happen if she did. Trish had been doing this long enough to know that nothing but destruction would come out of it.
She also knew better than anyone that Dante saw more than his share of trauma in his life yet he was always able to go around with the appearance that the world could never touch him. There was only so long that you can put on a façade until you eventually get tired of trying. Trish watched him the nights that he decided to go out into the city to look for demons to hunt. Those were the days that he needed the feel of the kill, just because he needed to feel something. There were nights where he tried to be himself, to taunt the demons with his usual wit. It wasn't the same though so some nights he didn't even try to be the demon hunter who walked around with so much confidence and cockiness that any demon with in the city limits was sure to feel his presence.
Trish never said anything to him, just as he never said anything to her even though she was sure that he could feel her the nights that she did watch him roam around the city. She came into the shop quietly every now and then, a few times a month at the least. She rarely ever came with jobs for him though knowing that he could get them on his own and with Lady just fine. Her visits to Devil May Cry involved her bring in a few groceries for Dante knowing that he would be reluctant to go get them on his own. She would prepare food for him for the week leaving it in containers in the fridge, something that before hand she rarely ever did. Trish would pick up around the office and the kitchen that was hidden from view at the back of the store. Trying to at least make it look presentable if anyone besides her and Lady would ever want to come in.
There were a few times that Trish's eyes would flicker towards the staircase wondering if she should survey the damage that was sure to be inevitable if she were to go up there. The only time that Trish had spoken to him recently was to threaten Dante that he if didn't at least do his own laundry she would be forced to go up to his room to gather the clothes herself. Dante didn't respond but the next time that she came in she could see that the wrinkles were out of his clothes and the discoloration of days of wear on them wasn't as severe. Trish wouldn't have minded doing his laundry too but there was something about going up to his room to gather the items that bothered her. There was something about his room that just felt like she was invading who he was.
She just hoped that with time he would be able to bring himself back to who he was.
The sun began streaming in through the thin white curtains of the hotel window. The heat of the day heating up the patches of skin on Nero that the light was touching. Nero stirred in his sleep, his muscles aching in protest. The blankets on the bed crumpled beneath him as he didn't bother to get under them last night. Nero squeezed his eyes tightly in an attempt to pretend that he wasn't awake. The backs of his eyelids were already a bright orange indicating that no matter how hard he tried he was awake.
Nero opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. The white curtains along with the white blankets in the room gave a harsh light to it with the sun breaking through. He blinked rapidly a few times getting his eyes to adjust to the bright white glow of the room. With the harsh light came with it the remembrance that Nero was covered in the dirt from yesterday along with the possibility of demon blood. He reluctantly climbed out of the bed, stumbling as he made his way to the bathroom. The true weight of the fight breaking through his muscles.
The light in the bathroom turned on at Nero's presence. He walked over to the counter where a mirror expanded the length of the wall. Nero leaned onto the counter, resting both of his hands at the edge of it. He looked at the worn look on his eyes, the tired light purple rings that were starting to make their way to the surface. Nero began to scan the rest of his body to see if there were any differences that happened within the past day. As if leaving Fortuna had caused a significant change in his appearance, that maybe his young features would make him look older. His white hair was in a disheveled mess resting upon his head. Nero kept looking over his appearance, there was no difference though.
Nero's eyes caught onto the white bandage that twisted its way up to his shoulder. Small pools of red, yellow and a sickly green color were threading their way through the fabric displaying odd shaped stains. Nero reached out to touch his covered demon arm with his hand, the light touch was enough to make him flinch. With the events that had happened he hadn't bothered to change the bandage, he also hadn't noticed how much the fabric was rubbing and irritating his demonic skin.
When Nero first started bandaging his arm the cloth never seemed to bother him. Over time it became harder for his arm to breathe, even with the few hours that it was given at night. There were times where the irritation on his flesh would flare up making it hard for him to bandage it. He would have to bite through the pain though because every time that he had it uncovered in the comfort of being inside of his quarters he would remember Kyrie's eyes and how she looked at him with disdain. The irritation had been flaring up recently, it was something Nero was getting used to healing back up.
He began to unwrap the bandage, slowly peeling away each layer as it spun up his arm. The layers peeled away until he finally got to the bottom one which was more drenched in fluids than the other ones. Nero slowly began peeling at the last thing layer of gauze, some parts of it sticking to the raw flesh of his demon arm. He threw the gauze onto the floor in disgust as a burning pain of air hitting his damaged arm.
Nero went over to the glass shower, turning the water onto as hot as he could possibly make it. With the remainder of what little clothes he had left on shed, he climbed into the shower. The scorching water pressing against his skin. The water hit hard against his arm, burning as it trickled along cleaning out the worst of the infection. Nero stood in the water letting it hit his flesh, turning his pale skin a bright red from the heat.
Nero's mind started running over the past few days events again, the only thing he seemed to be able to do in his waking hours. With the thoughts of the day before Nero's mind seemed to have a few brief clouded moments in it. He struggled trying to reclaim those few moments that seemed to be lost to him.
Where the hell is my bike? Nero thought as he ran his human hand through his hair with shampoo. One of the moments that was clouded to him came back. Even from the ferry you could see the busy streets of the harbor, indicating how hard it would be to get any type of vehicle through the throng of people. The ferry offered to move vehicles to a small designated parking area by the docks. The man told Nero that when people were traveling out of the harbor they tended to leave their vehicles in a paid area where they could put them until they came back. His mind at the time was in so many other places that he agreed to it, taking a small white ticket and shoving into the pockets of his pants.
Nero planned that after his shower he would go pick up his bike to explore the city from a new point of view.
With his shower done, he wrapped his arm back up in a clean cloth after putting a soothing ointment on it. Not really knowing if it ever had any effect on his demon arm though. He was just thankful that he remembered to pack these things in his haste. Nero dressed in a pair of black jeans, pair with a black shirt, over his shirt he put on his red leather shirt, zipping it up the front. The tight stitching running vertical down the front of the leather showing off Nero's toned body. The early morning sun promised a much warmer day as Nero left his black leather coat laying on the bed. Nero dug in his pants from yesterday, pulling out the small white ticket stating the location of the parking area.
With everything that he was sure he needed, Nero headed out the door to go get his bike and just to see exactly where he had landed himself in now that his mind wasn't as disconnected as it was the day before.