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Dreams Will Be Made Of These	By : Britt_601 Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 3810 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry or its characters. Blah, blah, blah-no money is made off of this either.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
Chapter 21: Caught in the Act

Long, manicured fingernails tapped in rapid succession on a wooden desk, the other hand cradling a forehead marred with worry. Four bare glasses sat across from her; the white wine bottle laying shattered on the floor. Dark brown, doe eyes stared aimlessly at the wall before her, mouth pressed into a firm line after the weight of the Queen's death settled in.

A large burden fell upon her shoulders, an overwhelming obstacle settling in her chest. No, not burden. The task. She inherited control of completing the Queen's envisioning of her world, and now she had to fulfill it. Though, how would she be able to do that when those devil hunting pests killed the people she collaborated with?

Her Queen was murdered like the other castoffs on the hunter's list. The call from her blond convert, Keith, sent her into a delicate yet indecisive place.

For the longest, she lived under the Queen's shadow but she was comfortable in that position. She had the perfect amount of freedom to do as she pleased, and the orders she received met with little resistance. Her life couldn't be any more joyful. In bereft of that happiness came a stern realization. An understanding that she had to step up to the plate and take charge of the operation. But how would she do that?

Sure she commanded a group in her own right, picking and deciding who she deemed worthy, but the Queen accepted everyone, if they passed their tests. Despite many of the demonic claiming they could take over in leadership, she already knew what had to be done, just remained clueless to the proper way to proceed with it.

Apparently, these hunters are smarter than they appeared, able to fight and defeat someone as strong as the Queen. Rushing an all-out attack on them pursued an evident duty, only she had to find the right time to do so. Might be good to strike them when they least expected it, or give them everything full force. So what they handled a single demon, but what if their numbers reached over 100? How about 300? Even 500?

Eyelids closed in discomposure, imagining the hunter's blood tainting the air when she avenged her master. Weeks after those goons destroyed those fountains, Eusimalkia had been driven to her last resort of trying to capture the son of Sparda, claiming his life so hers ascended to greatness.

Ramona herself knew little about him, but rumors told of his ruthless nature, slaying down his own kind with such hatred his brethren blindly attacked him without thinking it through by instant retaliation. If so, then how can she use that wrath against him? From heard rumors, he had family or a significant other to threaten him with. Surely an influx of rogues should be enough to overwhelm him if confined to a small space or something similar.

Hey, she should probably enact that soon.

When Keith called her and explained what happened, her policeman in disguise hauled ass to get back to the mansion to confirm it true, finding the blond convert dead in the middle of the road on his travel. Further investigation proved the beheaded Queen's tragic fate, and some specific items went missing.

The sensible thing, she told herself, said to forget about him momentarily and focus on moving forward with the operation. Just the same, there prevailed her pressing credo of not shrinking responsibility; the process of removing the half-breed from the equation so he can't interfere.

And interfere he would no more.

Another wine bottle clutched into her hand from the bar, opening the top while the glass turned upside down, the bubbly liquid emptying into an awaiting mouth.

Nero stared at Dante with apprehension, his sweaty human palm clenching the sheets in a death grip. Eyelids barely blinked while his eyesight followed the chieftain's form. Time seemed to slow down, remaining in their stilled state; the youth ever conscious of the veteran's every motion and Dante's penetrating glare never leaving the fledgling's sight. Silence fell throughout the room; the pounding beat of a steady heart dominating their hearing.

The teen blinked twice when the veteran looked away, relishing a deep inhale before Dante threw the vascular ticker into the air. Pale blues returned to Nero to watch the brat focus on the device. He caught it in his fingers again, giving a small grunt before chucking it at the punk with great speed.

The partial-hybrid produced a tiny frightened gasp, his head tilting to the side just in time to watch the organ trail down the wall. The muscle sputtered out blood from its casing, the flow growing slower and slower until it stopped. A blue gaze fixated on the spectacle, flinching when the elder stood from his chair.

Nero steadied himself when his hand felt a pulse on his chest, awareness lightly tuning into this discovery with his vision landing upon Dante once again. That thumping belonged to him; his own heart beating under his red-soaked shirt. So, if that thing wasn't his that Dante hurled at him, who did he get it from?

"What's going... " A dry mouth snapped shut, swallowing a few times to moisten a parched throat. "What's the problem, man?"

Dante took heed to him for a moment, popping the bones in his neck before answering. "I should have just pulled your ass out of bed-"

"What are you talking about?"

"-to save me a lot of trouble."

The teenager sat with his eyebrows pulled downwards, wanting to ask him to clarify his statement but decided against the idea. He wasn't familiar with the veteran's state of mind, or what happened while he snoozed away. The throbbing resumed on the side of his face, going back to cradling his injury.

"I slapped you around because you would not wake up, and you started to trigger in your sleep. Why you did... I don't even want to know, now." Dante walked over and leaned against the door frame, sans jacket folded in his arms. Legs crossed over one another as he regarded the scared youth through lidded eyes.

He stood still to let his agitation wane through his body, however his stolen money brought his aggravation full circle.

"I never thought someone could doze harder than me, but I'm about to do it, so it doesn't matter. Any calls come in, you take them."

He started moving from his spot but stopped when he saw the kid open his mouth, closing it soon after. Dante assumed waking Nero up and discussing the matters in full perceived a mandatory issue but... it can wait for a while.

Human life deserted Whetstone and allowed the accursed to roam without law, especially those damned Cutlasses infesting the place. They died much easier this time, but still. He didn't know if the blond convert or "Grace" phoned anybody beforehand, and that's what made it so imperative to tell him.

On his tour through the city, he went once more to the gas station and investigated in thorough scrutiny. Heading towards the back end of the store he followed a decaying smell to a rusty beaten-down truck, finding Edward's children dead inside. Police couldn't be called or trusted since Officer Scott probably kept tabs on the area.

Wasn't anything to do for them out there like that anyway, and leaving them there to rot beyond reason unnerved him greatly. After little duration to what he should do, he rounded the old man and set him in the pickup, lighting the vehicle on fire as he paid his unknown respects to the triplet.

Things just bothered him after that; reminded him of his own dysfunctional family and its tragic ending. A deep, unwanted regret filled him. It should have been different, he mused involuntarily; Edward and his children's fate and his own, but that lived long in the past. He held no fault that the old man chanced upon a shitty situation, yet what he did lacked ethics no matter who the antagonist.

Over the years, Dante learned that life has a way of kicking one along like a football. Destiny never dealt him a particularly easy time but that was normal, given his heritage. Some people, in his eyes, took their turn to be a football. Most survived the kick to the end zone, some didn't. In the elder man's case, he commanded both the football and the kicker, controlling everyone else's fortune while letting his fly.

"What happened while you were gone?" Nero asked, moving his legs up and over to rest on the floor. He stole a glance at the muscle thrown at him and then at the blotch on his shirt, vision narrowing in suspicion when he looked back at the veteran.

"If you're wondering about that spot on your shirt, well that's from our hearts beating in sync." The chieftain added emphasis by tapping his own thumping organ, but he said it in a light, snide tone. "And it's also from you getting on my damn nerves."

Nero stepped back mentally, expression going blank in thought. Even though the real reason searched why his body constricted on the inside over the statement.

Very troublesome and strange.

Dante turned and left without another word, leaving Nero to jump out of the bed, howbeit wobbly and weak thanks to his forced sickness, to trail after him. Legs stopped right outside his room to assess the state of downstairs.

A deep scowl settled onto his face, tension riling up to lash out at the dope since he knew who butchered this place, namely him.

"What the fuck happened?" Nero held out his arms, gesturing to his confusion.

Old magazines and papers littered the floor's expanse. The oak desk suffered deficient injuries with the drawers pulled apart by its hinges. Various splinters mixed with the conglomerate mess of the supposed office. Upside down chairs donned missing legs while others seemed to be broken off or split in half. Bottles of empty liquor spread far and near the area, making it—wait, never mind. Those were already there since the dork drank that shit like water, yet everything else shouldn't be there.

"How did... why is the office like this?" To Dante, he didn't care how this place looked because he didn't clean, but Nero did. He hated disorganization; the concept serving him no positive purpose. Spending precious energy searching for shit in junky, unkempt places would waste time of the utmost importance, especially when it should be found and located originally. Plus, who would want to live in their own filth?

Nero's fists tightened on the stair railing, teeth clenching because he knew he would soon be reacquainted with a broom and dustpan. What angered him though; the lack of explanation why the main area looked like this. Yeah he heard banging and thumping in his slumber, but that came from Dante stating he attempted to wake him up. If he registered this thunderous shit happening, he inclined to jump out of his sleep.

"My efforts are unappreciated," he said in a bitter tone, taking slow steps down the stairs, looking over the damage. "I'm pretty sure this sight would add to your debt by La-"

A gush of wind crept by him when a heavy palm whipped him around, coming within centimeters of touching the chieftain's lips with his nose. The abrupt turn loosened the youth's footing to stumble into Dante's chest, bringing his hands forward to steady himself. Dante didn't give the impression to notice, or even care, and grabbed the teen by the shoulders, applying light pressure as he spoke.

"I like you, Nero. I do. You are someone who I want to know from here well beyond my expiration date... whenever that may be. But. If you want me to continue, I suggest you not utter that name in my presence again. Or at least until I deem it safe to do so, 'kay?"

Blue eyes blinked, dazzled from the first few sentences spoken. That... kind of warmed him inside a little. He felt moved by the flattery and appreciated by this compliment, seeing how he barely received them.

Snide and snubbed remarks came gift-wrapped as compliments. Many people forced the need to say cordial things to him when hard-pressed to or as a duty out of fear. Yet rarely did it come with such genuine and mirth other than from Kyrie. And the liking him thing? He cared less one way or the other, but he wouldn't deny the nice gesture to hear it rarely said about him.

Fine, okay. Nero admitted Dante had his compassionate and generous ways worthy of praise. His laughter gave a roar; his vivacious, quicksilver charm subsisted difficult to resist. Behind this front of camaraderie, the half-breed was shrewdly persuasive; he marshaled his arguments logically... at times, presented them skillfully... sometimes, and seemed able to rationalize any situation to suit himself while persuading everyone else he acted for the general good.

In spite of his agreeable persuasiveness, Nero could see Dante hid something dark and sinister beneath his charm. When he expressed his serious side, his voice's chilling tone revealed potential violence waiting to be unleashed should he be provoked beyond his limit, as Nero witnessed glimpses of it yesterday.

Through all that happened between the two, good and bad, a reputable respect brewed between them. Each one coming to know enough of the other's capabilities to admire their strengths and help each other on their weaknesses―in their own manner of punch-lines and taunts.

Notwithstanding, he'd have to give the man more credit in his actions. He would try to... despite those comforting words and those feelings about him, Dante is still an ass.

The red hunter gave an affirming squeeze before moving towards the stairs, exhaustion coming through in a hard sigh. There had to have been a dispute with—the brunette—and he fell out with her, badly. And what happened to the town? Did he go back out there himself to investigate? Any findings he needed to combat later on? How many-

Where are his weapons?

"Hey." Dante kept on trudging up the steps. "Hey, where's the truck?"

"Garage."

"Where are my weapons?"

"In the truck." Dante gave answers as un-emotive as possible, his aura bathed in a trance-like state.

The hell is he moody about? Items filled the cases to the brim; books, weaponry, hardware and money. Speaking of which...

"Where's all the stuff at?"

"In the truck in the garage."

Now, what in the world happened while in la-la land? Someone must have super-pissed on the elder's parade if he stayed this depressed. Even if something didn't work out in his favor, he didn't stay this pouty. But he told himself he would act nicer to him, he had to make sense of what transpired.

"Are you having trouble wi-"

"Just... " He cut him off with a dismissive wave of his wrist. "... handle the front of the office okay. I'm gonna go... rest for a minute." With that, his door closed followed by a soft thump soon after.

Nero stood there stumped, blinking at how Dante brushed him off. A rare occurrence it stood to show someone his sympathy and generosity, and he didn't like his efforts thrown back in his face, no matter by who. At least he could have said he'll talk later.

With a glare sent towards his door, he trudged to the garage, shivering from the cold air ghosting over his skin. It seems he unloaded the important stuff and settled them into their proper place.

One thing he found troubling though; the "rental" of the ride. Surely this Ramona chick will discover things missing and her policeman would find out. Isn't the dummy worried about that? Especially since they (Dante really) took a lot of their valuables?

The youth decided not to think further on it, going to the truck and pulling his weapons out. Sorting through the items in the cases came next on the list. All though he should wait probably; he didn't know what the red one wanted to throw out or keep. Pfft, whatever, he had other things on his agenda to complete.

His stomach grumbled, absently rubbing the spot on his shirt where Dante laid that putrid muscle. It came as shock when the hybrid explained he slept longer than he did. To him nonetheless, he was ill and required rest to get his strength back. So what important matters needed discussion at that moment? What did Dante need to say? On his way to the kitchen, he placed his tools by the couch, mind focusing on stuffing his face.

Perhaps with the money the dope had, he could afford to update the décor to this kitchen because the refrigerator looked dreadful in this dated decor. Dare he look inside though, knowing it'll be empty? Maybe he should call the pizza place to keep his disappointment from showing. The only thing bound to be in there are the accessories that added flavor to foods.

He went over by the sink, looking in the cabinet to grab a cup, running it under the tap. Cool water flowed down a dried throat, trotting towards the icebox in temptation. He knew it would be bleak and barren, but he would indulge his mind to get rid of his curiosity.

Five minutes later, Nero found himself munching on a breakfast croissant, two more resting on a plate complete with some fruit punch to down the sandwich to his starved stomach. Opening the fridge might have been the best surprise this morning.

Unknown to him whether Dante shopped at a store or not, but the fridge chocked up on edibles and drinkable liquids. Further investigation had Nero discovering more foods in the cabinets, placing a twitching smirk on his lips since the uncovering.

As he wolfed down his heartening meal, the memories popped up about the nice things the dope helped him with. There voided an explanation for going above his means to comfort Nero. Make no mistake, he enjoyed the appreciation because he didn't receive it often. Just that he neglected to reciprocate the appreciation back.

He gave the captain money, taken on jobs and cleaned up his office, but it didn't feel the same; almost like he had to go out of his style to give his thanks to receive that genuine gratitude. Dante didn't have to do what he did for him. For that, he would bump up his 'be nicer to the dummy' meter a few notches.

But what could he do?

A loud rapping of the door brought him out of his musings, taking a large bite out of his second sandwich and gulping down his juice, going over towards the opening. He wondered who could be knocking during this time in the late afternoon. Trish had her own key and the—other—just barged in when she deemed it so.

Mobile jaws clamped shut upon seeing thee patrol cars out the window. Two of the police officers geared up, strapping automatics to their holsters as the other checked his handgun.

His heartbeat quickened, a million theories scrambling around how they ventured here so quickly. What if the mansion had cameras or over at the burger stand? What about the gas station? Did the truck have a tracker on it? Are they here to ask questions or take them in for vandalizing property?

Nero's first response propositioned to yell for the elder and tell him about his guests, but then decided against it; assuming that the badges would panic and try to barge in thinking... who knows what. They busted in on people's property―at least that's what they showed on the cop shows.

He had to notify Dante, howbeit his instructions said to watch the front of the house while Dante rested, but this deemed as an emergency. Opening the passage and asking about their pressing issues looked to be prevalent, yet their firearms teetered him on edge.

This time, the officers banged on the door, a light baritone voice shouted a demand to enter the premises, but it sounded like a pure threat in its deliverance.

Screw it, he would see what issue they held. No need to alert the chief if this provided a minor concern. And if it turned out to be something major, then the elder would have to come his ass down here.

Soft footsteps padded to the entrance, lightly stomping the floor boards to make sure they heard him coming. Just then he realized his mistake; his exposed arm remained in plain view. They couldn't see it, giving a negative reaction toward his devil bringer's appearance. Shit, what can he do?

"I heard you. Open the door!"

"Wait a damn minute!" Nero uttered back, turning to find something to cover his limb. If one thing egged him to no end, it personified those 'law people' with a bit of authority who presumed they had all the power.

On his ninth step away from the wooden block it bolted open; the bolts clanking to the floor with the police officers coming over the threshold. Large guns zeroed in on Nero freezing his movements while hiding his bicep, assault rifles aimed at the ready. S.W.A.T gear swarthed the two outer men.

Middle man must have been the ring leader, standing close to, or above, his own height. He donned a bald head with piercing light green eyes. And he wore the same outfit, sans mask giving the office a silent once over. A skull earring hung from the right ear; the makings of red roses and black skulls tatted on the left side of his neck.

Whether the law enforcement ran low on people to protect and serve or their standards dropped had him lost, however he knew any patrol force wouldn't let their employees go out looking like that.

The shaved deputy stared at Nero, focused eyes sizing him up. He stepped further into the room, the youngster stepping back on alert. He saw no battering ram used to knock down the entrance, and as far as Nero guessed the front fastened safely with its locks, at least he believed it so.

And speaking of being locked away from the world, shouldn't ass-wipe have heard the loud crash and ran to investigate the ruckus? Even if Dante slept, his senses tuned into whom ever had entered his premises. A doubt bloomed he would be in that deep of a sleep that quickly.

"That was a dangerous maneuver; you being rude and moving away from the door. Got something to hide, kid?" His speech poured out smooth as liquid honey against his svelte but built stature. Nero originally thought his voice to be real heavy and strong. And just who gave him the nerve to call him 'kid' when he looked to be a youngster himself; age dancing between early to mid-20's.

Paying no mind to their imposing and dominant stances, Nero had to keep a calm head. From the looks of it, these men held the auras to commit damage.

The partial-demon shifted his sight between bodies, gaze narrowed in reading their vibes and how soon they would attack. Intuition stirred his inner devil; the looming presence of imminent danger sending tingles crawling over his nerves.

They didn't look so threatening, projecting this false, hard-bitten attitude to strike fear into him. If bad went to worse, he could take these three on easy, dodging the bullets and disarming them all; taking care of baldy last.

"Well, isn't this place suspicious-" The leader moved towards his left, eyes fascinated with the demonic skulls on the walls, still leaking fresh with blood. It surprised him it didn't drip on the floor; like it circulated in a cycle back into its skull. He went on, "-having the bloodied heads of demons as interior decorum. You know demons exist, right kiddo?"

"What're doing here," demanded the youth, now realizing there must have been a defect in these so-called "protective" wards to enable these three to barge in so easily.

“That's none of your concern. Where's Dante?"

"Considering you barged in here without authority to do so, I think-"

"You'd better keep that tongue inside before I give you something to make you."

The teen bristled, teeth gnashing at the bold, smug words said. He roved moments away from striking out and giving Mr. Baldy something to shut his trap, shaped as his fist.

"So then," he stated, arms behind his back, resuming his position by his two grunts. "Where's the one called Dante at?"

"What'chu want him for?"

"Again, I don't see how that's any of-"

"I'm making it my concern, now answer my question."

The mask-less man advanced upon him, head tilted to the side in challenge over the mouthy brat. Obviously this punk must've skipped charm school, or else those lips would have remained sealed.

This 'Dante' fellow needed to answer on his whereabouts yesterday, but if this little twerp kept it up he might make a nice prison bitch for someone. The lead officer believed that some discipline called to order.

He slanted his head the other way, pretending to focus on the strange looking swords on the wall, only he did tune into their odd shapes; drawing the mouthy fucker towards his friends for a surprise. He dove into this pocket, withdrawing a pair of handcuffs. "Well, look at this big ass-"

Nero swatted away the cuffs thrown at him, ready to counterattack with one of his own moves when he heard a gun cock. Shit, he forgot about the other two, turning around to assess his space. No need to call down the captain; these bozos are easy to take care of... if only he trained his eye on them.

Aw, screw it. He shaped his mouth to shout to Dante to save these three asses from his wrath, instincts honing in to the shaved man coming near him. Nero didn't hurry enough in his reflexes to see him.

Expertly the hairless deputy thrust his left index and middle fingers up the youth's nostrils, jerking his head in reverse. In the same breath, he hooked his right foot around Nero's left foot and tugged it forward, Nero's arms circled, slipping on the pieces of wood strewn about. Desperately he tried to regain his balance but fell. He crashed backwards.

The two officers forced Nero to his feet, twisting him to hoist him in midair. His elbows pinioned to his body, dragged to the entrance with the lead officer looking self-satisfied behind him. One of the masked men held interest in his arm, fixated with a severe fascination while pulled against his will.

Coppery-tasting trails flowed down his nose, teeth bared in anguish at being handled so easily. These assholes should be easy to dominate without a single care in the world. Logically, he held off attacking them because they're human (he assumed). Is that how they came through the wards? He couldn't care less to hit people if they deserved it, but he reached to bide his time to wage their motives.

Inhaling a deep breath, he wrenched his devil bringer free. The pull's force made the masked man lean into him; Nero delivering a satisfying back hand sending the assailant into a crumbling heap. The second one pointed the assault rifle at him, letting go of his arm while Nero delivered a punch to his mask, the bottom half of it shattered. The gunman pulled on the trigger; the bullets pelting holes into the wall.

An audible crack flowed throughout the teenager's being, eyes swirling in a haze when he fell to the floor. Pain resounded the expanse of his skull, body feeling numb in a moment of stasis. Through that numbness beckoned the power of Yamato; her powers pushing to vanquish this threat. Only he kept her restrained, barely; he called upon her when his injuries got the better of him or when beyond fury. Since he strayed close to neither, she'll have to curb her enthusiasm until later.

"You're a feisty little fucker, I'll give you that much." The green-eyed man stated, holding a standard baton he cracked the punk's head with.

What intrigued him even more when he glanced down on him possessed that arm; so exotic and peculiar, yet extraordinary and powerful at the same time. There held a heavy doubt it was a glove for a theater prop. He didn't know what the appendage harnessed, but he deemed it would look, act, and feel twice as good if he took control of it. Who this freak inhered to be he dared not to care, but if he offered this brat as a pet to his boss as a bonus to capturing Dante; well with a few strings pulled, he would gain inheritance of the blue sleeve.

He raised the night stick high, intending on beating the fucker senseless when a strong palm grabbed a hold of him. Jade eyes flashed into angry ice berg blues, neither wavering their gaze while the bodies on the floor collected themselves to consciousness. The two men repositioned their guns at the hybrid, the kid sitting on his haunches with a bloody face.

The half-devil looked over at the youngster, nodding once to let him realize he'll be okay. Not in the sense of the cavalry arriving, but in the sense that Nero could relax some. And his tasks stayed the same; he still had to handle the front of the house since he hastily decided to leave for a bit.

"Something tells me you don't have a warrant for my arrest. That's gonna cost you a pretty penny to fix all the damage in here," the hybrid said, squeezing the man's grip a little tighter. "Officer Scott."

"How do you know my name?" He ignored giving a response to the break-in of his property.

Dante guided his chin to the man's name tag on his shirt, refraining from rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the rookie's question. And Dante just had a hunch that something might come here and cause trouble. His intuition told him these troubles only started... and his assumption proved right. Should have at least given Nero a head's up about it as soon as he woke up...

"Okay ,you got me." His arm tugged from Dante's hold, taking a few steps away to take in this hyped-about, marvel of a man.

Didn't look all that menacing and threatening from the rumors.

A black tank top and long gray sweatpants covered his frame, coupled with matching black socks. Brown spots and streaks blotted his face, thinking he didn't bother to wash up from whatever he ate. Seriously, he looked like a jobless, broke slob. And many told him to fear this; to heed his power?

“What's this about?” Dante asked, expression blank with focus.

“Under specific orders I'm not allowed to say. If you want answers, we're gonna have to take you down to headquarters.”

“And what's with him?” Dante pointed towards the bleeding sack of flesh with the flick of his head.

“He... got a little violent and-”

"You bastard!" The hybrid swiveled around and repelled the youth from launching an attack after that snarl. Whatever lack of drive Nero had earlier returned in full, damage to the other person clearly a priority on his list. Dante didn't want to restrict him by using added force, but he had to calm him enough to listen to reason.

He needed him to have a clear head, devoid of that gunk on his face as well, because the elder decided to go undercover to do a little "investigating." A spur of the moment type thing; deciding to be "arrested" as soon as he heard them kick down the door. He waited to see what the brat's reaction would be and... he improved a bit since his last outing. Kind of.

"Better keep your look-alike at a safe-"

"Better figure out how you're gonna replace the items you broke in here, instead." The red hunter looked over his shoulder, giving the deputy a meaningful cold glare to keep him from saying anything foolish before he authorized to unleash the kid on them.

Officer Scott, either unfazed by the threat or trying to test his luck, continued to act in a haughty manner. "Again, not our fault. Just trying to protect ourselves from-"

"Go fuck yourself!" Nero roared, striving to push past the chieftain and rip those lips off of that talking cue ball. "Fucker tried to kidnap me-"

"Arrest is more of the common term used, nowadays."

Dante pulled Nero away from the bunch, noticing baby blues never leaving ol' Scotty boy. He didn't know what formed the reason the teen neglected to wipe his bloody nose, but that thing needed some special attention. One of them must have damaged the punk's little sniffer, and it probably made the area tender to touch.

Still needed to wipe it, though. Ew.

The youngster swatted the elder's hand away, eyes focusing on him to see what they'll do about their visitors. Dante folded his arms across his chest, biceps bulging with piercing eyes staring at the youth's nose. He must've been hit hard for that much of an amount to dribble out.

Nero caught on to what he stared at and turned to the side, using the end of his t-shirt to rub the sticky mass off of him. Heat rose to his cheeks at his rising anger; the urge to fight something growing stronger by the second.

"You all right?"

"The fuck do you think? I'm just peachy, Dante."

Not bothered by his foul attitude, his lips moved low and quick to let him in on his plan.

"I need you to guard this place. Go in the garage, find all the weapons and hide them. Same thing with the ones in the truck-"

"What are you talking about?" Nero, taking the hint, lowered his voice as well, confusion lacing his voice looking upon the elder.

"Call Trish and tell her to come over here and ward the place up-"

"How did they get in here?"

"-Tidy up too... should put all the weapons in the attic and then create an extra seal-"

"Why? Who's coming over here?"

"-But leave Lady... shit. Tell her to scope out the club. Should keep her away-"

"Why are you mad at her?"

"-And tell Trish to hide my pop's sword. That will be a focus-"

"What's coming after it!"

"The only way," the hybrid resumed talking in his normal tone, hands coming up to rest on his head in a surrendering stance. He continued, "-I'm getting any answers is if I go with Mr. Scotty, so watch the office for me, will ya?” He gave a wink in Nero's direction, lips dancing into a smirk.

"You're going where." The teen said deadpanned, sight switching over to the masked assailants pointing their guns at Dante while baldy pulled out another set of handcuffs. What could he do if he went away and the officer called in people to raid the place?

If they're vermin, then Nero didn't have to hesitate about hurting them. In any event, if he guarded this business from threatening attacks, humans weren't off his 'to injure' list, seeing how these assholes barged inside. If someone busted into his home he would be up in arms, defending his fort and demanding a explanation after some violence ensued. Why isn't the elder mad about this?

Reflecting on it further, Dante always kept an aloof calmness whenever a situation arose. He toyed with his detractors, allowing them to live as long as he allowed it to his amusement. Perhaps that was his layout all along. He had to trick his enemies into believing they had him in their clutches before he dealt the finishing blows... Hey, wait a minute!

"You're not leaving, Dante."

"Sorry, but I gotta go-"

"Do you not see what the fuck they did?"

"Yeah, which is why I told you-"

"Why are you so calm about it?"

"My place has been damaged before and-"

"Everything is up for grabs-"

"I already took that in-"

"-and yet you expect me to make sure-"

"Well that's what I told you and you'd better-"

"-everything is still in place with these assholes having the nerve to call in back up-"

"Nero." Dante warned, hoping to shut the kid up from giving Scotty any ideas.

"-and see what else-"

"Nero..."

"-they can scrounge and break-"

"Nero-"

"-in to get what the hell-"

Lips cut off his next words as cerulean blues widened, shock registered on his face as his senses sharpened to the scene in front of him. Vision locked into those pale blues staring so strongly back at him. Nose inhaled the scents of sweat, copper and beer mixing in to Dante's signature scent. Ears heard the clicking of handcuffs locking into place along with the quiet breathing of the man before him. Slight, chapped peckers had gently forced themselves against his own blood-stained ones, tasting those exotic flavors rolled into one before he took a slow step backwards.

Those same eyes watched him, rooting him to the ground with his penetrating gaze. Nero factioned too stumped to do anything but breathe, taking in his musky smell and animalistic aura. The world seemed a little smaller, revolving around those two trapped in the moment.

A heavy feeling pitted itself in the youth's stomach, rising up every few moments to travel to his limbs; the fleshy branches tingling to splay out their nervousness, then the sensation fleeting to its original spot. It was indescribable; unexpected and titillating, leaving him with an odd mixture of anticipation and disappointment. Of what and why though remained unsolved.

Visiting what he regarded earlier, the veteran had a feeling that someone or something may voyage here and trash the place, much to that of his trip in Whetstone. While the objects there had questionable values, his possessions are priceless and to die for, literally.

Dante blinked twice, a small smile stretching across his features being led away. As he explained to the brat before, he needed to be focused and on alert in his absence. He moved nowhere with the runt cutting him off at every question asked, and he still seemed angered by the... brutality forced upon him. He needed to put that on hold and pay attention to his orders.

Might not go as planned nonetheless if he concentrated on "that" situation.

"Like I said, kid," the two grunts came and grabbed him by the arm, leading him outside. "I come back and find shit missing, your ass is mine!"

The partial-hybrid swallowed thickly before licking his lips, mind trying to adjust to the present to reel in his thoughts. He wished the reason the veteran cut him off like that corresponded to setting him straight. Any rationale other than that defined to confuse him, and he had a problem with being uncertain about his environment.

Officer Scott stayed near the rascal after the half-breed's detainment, looking into his dubious face at the vision of his friend leaving. He didn't hear much of the exchange between the two, but he assumed the slob gave the punk a head butt to shut him up. After the unspecified comments shared amongst them, who's to say he wouldn't jail the bitch as well?

The grand catch of Dante in and of itself contained a feat no one proved to accomplish, so maybe there wasn't a need to be bothered with the brat. All though he would come back for that arm. Surprising really, he didn't imagine the hunter giving up so easily. Added force stood on standby if he resisted; regardless it would be a waste if they couldn't use their newfound talents...

The head officer took advantage of the little man's open state, delivering a solid punch to his gut. The kid doubled over from the hit; the protest from the hunter made the two henchmen buckle down on their captive and pull him to the exit. Only his weight appeared to be rooted to the floor with his eyes trained on Scott.

After a moment his gaze softened on the broken youth, resuming his trek once he saw the lagging deputy trail after them. When Dante made it down the steps, Scott turned around, looking into the fallen brat's death glare, taking a grip through the space where the lock once rested.

"Be a good boy now, I'd hate to have to come back here to teach you a lesson." With that, he roughly slammed the door, mind roving on his prize after bringing in the son of Sparda to his boss.

Nero, enraged and troubled, moved slowly to pull himself up to not upset his already aching physique. The barrel of information rolled out had him spinning around, deciding a way to understand it all. Everything happened too fast to decipher; threats and demands woven together to keep him in his doubtful state. The cars outside roared to life, speeding down the street to leave him thinking about his next course of action.

He once thought he knew his body as well as his own feelings, reactions and needs. Yet the joining of the lips left him unsure about something he'd been confident in for the longest; the ability to not be turned on by another man. It was longer than chaste, but deep in its meaning. Couldn't the elder have just given him a swift kick in the knee or something similar to stop him from rambling?

If Dante held interest in him, then that was fine as long as he kept his distance. Even if, as a slim possibility, he walked down this route with the half-human being his lover, it couldn't be possible. He cannot abandon Kyrie just because he had change of heart, if he had one. He knew her longer, and a natural connection brewed between them.

However, would he be willing to break that kinship if his heart told a different story? If he found out who he had to betray to make himself happy? It's normal to go through these confusing, hormonal changes when in the stages of youth anyway, he hoped.

Hands ran down a tired face, needing a moment to think things through when a shrill screech erupted from outside; the sickly sweet stench of decay infiltrating his nostrils to let him remember some added enforcements required his attention.

A/N: Well, they finally did something...I think...or Dante did...I don't remember XD! I know some of you want them to jump each other's bones, but they aren't all the way ready yet...or Nero isn't...I forget.

This jail thing came up to me while I was watching "Pineapple Express". That movie is just horrible (in a good way!) and I couldn't help but to have Dante locked up for some weird reason I can't explain.

Once again, as always, I thank you guys for taking time out to stop and review. It really means a lot to me.
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Dreams Will Be Made Of These