Warning: Some DMC manga spoilers~ the chapter would be better understood if you've read them (PM me for links! :D)
Chapter 13: Vergil's Awakening
Feeling irrationally nervous, Kyrie approached Nero cautiously. "Hi Nero – you're home early." She greeted.
"Yeah. Early." Nero sized up the suddenly guarded Vergil who met him stare for stare.
There was a cold silence as the two men stood at their impressive heights and studied the other: Nero with blatant hostility and Vergil with affected indifference. Kyrie swallowed and braved the charged air.
"N-Nero, I want you to meet Vergil, a tenant in the place that I work in. Vergil, this is Nero… And we were just talking about him too, wasn't that a coincidence!" She laughed feebly.
"'Vergil'?" Nero's frown lessened slightly. "I thought his name was Dante or something."
"No," Kyrie seized at the chance of reconciliation. "This is Vergil, his brother."
"What, has this guy been bothering you too?" Nero didn't even bother lowering his voice and Kyrie threw him an exasperated look.
"I told you, Dante hasn't done anything – in fact he's hardly in the house."
"And don't forget what I told you; kick him in the shin and call me if he is." Nero studied Vergil with new perspective and, finding a lack of the wolfish aura that had set his teeth on edge, he grudgingly put away his initial prejudices. "Alright buddy, I'll take her from here."
"So you're Nero." Vergil broke his silence. "I've heard stories about you."
Nero smiled lazily. "All of them true, I assure you."
"I can tell." Vergil's tone was just the right amount of disdain and sneer.
Kyrie felt the temperature drop several degrees.
"You know, that reminds me – I just bought some steak for tonight's dinner! I was able to get a discount at the butchers apparently since I'm one of their best customers. It's good tenderloin too, none of those leftover cuts that are made to look like steak. I think I'll serve it up with some peppercorn sauce later," She babbled, the feeling of dread growing at every second that the two stared each other down. "And maybe some of those steamed vegetables that Credo likes so much… although I'm not so sure if we have carrots so –"
"Sounds good." Nero casually dropped his hand atop the girl's shoulder. "Kyrie cooks really well, you should taste the stew she makes. It's the best in town."
"I know." Vergil's eyes flickered briefly to the offending hand.
Nero's own eyes narrowed. "Oh you do, do you?"
For all the straight-laced impassiveness that emanated from this guy, he sure knew how to push buttons. In fact, this bastard got under his skin even worse than Dante did. There was something in the way he talked to Nero that made Nero feel inferior.
"Yes." He could have left it at that, but Vergil couldn't resist a parting jibe. "The cookies weren't that bad either."
Nero bristled, much to Vergil's amusement. How easy it was to raise this boy's hackles with a few choice words; so reminiscent of Dante in his younger years that'd loose every battle of wit and run teary-eyed to Eva. He even had the same scowl; that one that implied he knew he was losing but wasn't going to back down without a fight.
Nero glowered at the older man and tightened his grip on Kyrie.
Vergil's amusement increased at the territorial possessiveness with which he hung about the girl. "Just like a puppy worrying over a bone." He mused aloud.
Nero may not have known the exact train of Vergil's thoughts, but the implied insult was only too obvious.
"Is there something you want to say, old man?"
"Nothing I'm sure you haven't thought of already." Boy. Vergil's eyes taunted.
"Alright, big guy." Nero's demonic hand twitched in response to its owner's displeasure. "If you're buying a fight, I won't disappoint."
"I don't play nice." Vergil spoke slowly, disdainfully. "Give yourself a few more years."
"Don't worry; neither do I."
Kyrie stared with horrified fascination at the vein that pulsed on Nero's temple. "T-thank you so much for walking me home, Vergil!" She squeaked, quickly slipping an arm in the crook of Nero's own, both as a comforting and restraining gesture. "Nero and I are neighbours so you can go ahead – I'll see you tomorrow!"
Vergil inclined his head in acknowledgement. "So much for getting along. Work on those 'feelings' of yours." His lips quirked upright, and he swept away from the two.
She felt a smile creep on her face at the unmistakable amusement in his eyes. A smile that was quickly wiped off at the rankle on Nero's own.
"Tomorrow? You're meeting up with that – " He remembered who he was talking to and hesitated. "Guy tomorrow?"
Kyrie tugged on his arm more firmly. "Come on, it's getting dark."
"Kyrie – " Nero's tone revealed the shortness of his temper.
"Nero, please." Kyrie bowled on desperately. "Vergil's been very kind to me, walking me home like that even when he didn't have to. He's usually courteous and quiet – no, really! And, he's my friend, so please try to get along when you see him. Besides," She added with a burst of inspiration. "…may I just say that you look very cute when you're annoyed."
"I – what do you… wait!" Nero dropped his gaze, looking torn between embarrassment and annoyance.
"That's a dirty trick Kyrie."
"I meant it though." She patted his rigid shoulder cheerfully. "I always did have a weakness for the strong, broody type... Anyway, it's rare to see you home so early! Not much work today?"
"Actually, he's cutting duties." Came the dry voice of Credo from behind them.
"Credo!" Nero quickly dropped Kyrie's arm, as if burned.
"Nero." Credo mimicked, his gaze frosty. "So this is where you've been hiding. Getting a little close to my sister, aren't you?"
"Oh Credo, you know you'll always be my favourite brother." Kyrie leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Well, if you guys have to go back to the station, do try to come home early for once. I'll make something really nice for dinner!" She beamed before walking away.
Credo stood there, red-faced and spluttering as Nero discreetly made his own escape.
Whoever said women were the weaker of the sexes had obviously never had a sister.
It had been a long day…
Exhausted from being under Credo's burning gaze, as well as dealing with Gloria's temperamental flirting, Nero locked the door to his room and didn't even bother to turn on the lights as he stumbled towards his bed.
Gloria had seemed to be in a vindictive mood as she dragged him around town and back, ending the aimless tour with a couple of shots from a pub from the Underground. He didn't like drinking and had always avoided doing so, but when Gloria shoved a shot at him and called him a baby, Nero had downed his drink, hers, and a startled civilian's before striding out of the bar.
He dropped heavily unto the mattress - which gave an abused and somewhat resigned creak - kicked off his boots and fumbled into his coat pocket for the bottle of pills.
Nero popped the cap off with one hand and downed several of the white tablets, uttering an exhausted curse when the movement caused the bottle to fall off his bed and clatter unto the floor, spilling its contents on the scuffed wood. He contemplated on leaving it there till the morrow, but the very nature and importance of the medicine eventually made him heave himself upright and funnel them back into the bottle.
Nero buried his face into his hard pillow and felt the quiet touch of sleep across his consciousness almost immediately.
His hazy and more than slightly tipsy thoughts touched on topics like… when had he last given Blue Rose a maintenance check? While being a member of the Order of the Sword usually required fighting with, as the name suggested, a sword – Nero found that the usefulness of a gun was worth all the snotty comments from the rest of the force. Besides, he looked cool totting a gun around and it made a great conversational piece… as well as having the added bonus of annoying Credo.
He smiled into the folds of his pillow.
Funny how red Credo's ears had gone today. Like tomatoes. He didn't like tomatoes, although he would pick them over celery any day.
It was a shame that Kyrie always made him finish all the vegetables on his plate regardless of whether he liked them or not… He still liked Kyrie though. Warm, soft, nice-smelling Kyrie who had ways of touching people's hearts and staying there… befriending even the annoying ones like Vergil and Dante.
He had a sudden panicked thought.
Did Vergil eat all his vegetables??? He felt almost certain that Dante didn't. Did Kyrie like guys who ate their vegetables without complaint?
His demonic hand twitched in reply and he relaxed slightly.
That's right – as if that mattered. He'd just eat all his vegetables from now on.
Take that Vergil.
Resolution firmly in mind, Nero relaxed and gave in to the dreams hovering in wait for him.
As usual, it started out with him falling…
But this time, he did not land in the depths of hell. The scenery around him was changing, morphing into a caricature of a countryside smattered with graves. He stalked down the midst of the tombstones, first at a walk, then at a loping run, before breaking into an outright sprint.
Faster.
Where was he? He had to find him – to tell him that the monsters had escaped again. He would know what to do; he always knew what to do.
Faster...
He had tried to fight them off, he really had tried his very hardest – angry tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, only to be brutally brushed away. He had fought just like he had been taught… but he wasn't strong enough. If only he had…
Faster!
Power. He needed more power.
Desperation.
Kyrie found herself in a graveyard; muscles burning from her pell-mell dash through the stones as she gulped in much needed air and ignored the stitch at her side.
The orderly rowed marble tombstones stretched to the endless horizon – stark white reminders of the brevity of life, against the ominously darkening sky. Kyrie shuddered, feeling horribly exposed in the midst of the desolate scenery. Where was he? She had to find him; to bring him back to help her mom and brother and –
A stab of fear so brutal it nearly brought her to her knees.
They were coming! Terror gave her another burst of energy to run even deeper into the cemetery. Something white flashed in the corner of her eye and she turned her head to stare in horror at the skeletons clawing themselves out of the dark earth.
Kyrie dashed forward, her frightened sobs deafening in the silence as the dead began to stalk her. Her eyes darted around, searching for anyone – anything that could help her… and felt a relief so intense it brought tears to her eyes when she caught sight of a sword stuck upright in the mud, only a few graves off to her left.
She hopped over a clumsy attempt to grab her ankle, and drew the sword with a trembling hand, not a moment too soon. Dozens of skeletons surrounded her, then hundreds more. Kyrie swung the blade wildly, haphazardly, terror taking away all thought but for the need to survive. The skeletons' empty eyes mocked her as they danced closer and ever so closer, many shattering from the impact of her swings, many more moving in to take their place.
The ground gave a sudden rumble and a skeleton burst from the grave next to her feet and Kyrie stared at the spear that suddenly protruded from beneath her abdomen.
The momentum of the blow sent her reeling backwards and she stumbled, slamming her head unto a gravestone. Stunned and half-blinded by the pain, Kyrie looked back in a daze only to find herself staring at a name – carved in an unmistakable, unforgiving print across the white marble.
She tried to stretch her unresponsive hand towards the sword that had fallen out of her grip, when her blurred vision flit just past it and towards the horizon where a dark haze of smoke curled up in the equally dark air.
Burning. It couldn't be –
A sadness so overwhelming it hurt to breathe. A shame so bitter it hurt to live.
An anguished scream ripped through the night air, as sudden and brief as lightning, and Kyrie flinched.
Was there anyone else in the cemetery with her? With the wounded cry still ringing in her ears, it took Kyrie some time to realize that it had actually come from her lips.
'No – it's just a dream!' She stared up at the approaching skeletons, with their garish grins and curved scythes bearing closer and closer. 'Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!'
The blade flew into her heart.
And somewhere in the dark night, Vergil bolted upright, sweating and gasping for breath.
AN: And here's the (un?)lucky chapter 13!
Since the manga isn't as well known as the game, perhaps I should explain this part a little.
We all know that Vergil found out his demon powers before Dante did – well, that little scene up there was Vergil's awakening to his demon heritage as the son of Sparda. If you guys haven't read it yet, I can send a link (PM me for that~ :D). It's on chapter two, aptly named 'Vergil'. (Ohm-nom-nom! XD)
Thanks to Clairavance who beta-d this chapter~
And a shout out to all of you who've read, especially Takuma (Nice to see you again!!! Yaaaay!), Hao is Hot (I was thinking the same thing! It's fun to write a prudish Vergil though ;)), SilveryPurpleStarDemon (Cookies right back at you! :D), Yuu-ko (Yesh, I will do my best to be on time XD) and Trinity Archangel (Thank you! I'll do my best to deliver~).
You guys rock my literary world.