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Equilibrium	By : Imoshen Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 3016 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
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DISCLAIMER:
I don't own Devil May Cry or any of its characters.

Partners... right.

The last time he had a partner it ended with some
kind of relationship; Trish had started to act more and more like a
mother, getting over-protective about him, caring too much. He knew
she was simply afraid of losing him to death, but that's why he liked
to work alone: no one would get involved; no one would get hurt if
something were to happen to him.

The only reason for him to agree to this stupid idea
was because it kept the only remaining link to the past close to him
– Yamato. He knew it was wrong and he knew he entrusted the
sword into the right hands; the only hands that were worthy of
holding its shaft. But someone wanted the sword of his dead brother,
and that meant at some point in the past this someone had had
business with his brother. He could have just taken the sword back,
dealing on his own with this whole new mess, but he was also afraid
of it. The sword would always remind him of what he'd lost and he
didn't want to lose himself in the past, but he was close to it, and
that's what made all of this really dangerous for him.

He could already feel a growing headache. He was
thinking too much. Thinking was never his strength; it was Vergil's.

He just did things, not thinking about
consequences, and he wished it could always be that simple, but
reality had found him. It was never simple; life wasn't
simple.

Somebody was after the Yamato, somebody was after
him, and it both was somehow connected with Vergil.

He didn't want to work with Nero, didn't want to
clean up Vergil's mess, but he also felt like a damn child that
wanted to impress his father in order to be near him. This was what
he had waited for ever since he went to Fortuna and saw his brother's
sword in Nero's hands. But now that he got what he wanted, he didn't
know what to do with it.

Stupid.

That's what he was. He made a fool out of himself.
He tried to convince himself that it was just another mission,
nothing personal – but he knew better.

He drew a deep sigh as he watched the kid from his
position behind the desk. Nero's eyes were big, either with
admiration or disgust – Dante couldn't tell the difference.

"You planning to stay, or do you have your own
place to crash?" he asked Nero, closing his eyes while he
crossed his hands behind his head in a lazy manner. Nero was watching
the wall where Rebellion, Ebony and Ivory hung.

"I don't really have anywhere to go," Nero
answered without looking at him.

"I have an extra room... I guess you can have
it. Hope you can pay your rent, though." Dante smirked.

Nero grinned as he turned around. "The way I
see it, I should demand money from you to stay in this hellhole."
He wrinkled his nose as he sat down on the edge of the couch.

"Take it or leave it, kid, I don't care,"
Dante said, as he closed his eyes. He could hear Nero moving on the
red leather.

"So, what should we do?" he asked the
older hunter, his voice quiet.

"I guess I should dig in my brother's past in
order to find out who he'd pissed off."

"Then why don't start with that?"

Dante cracked an eye open.

"Because I wouldn't know where to look for it.
I don't know shit about my brother."

He could almost hear how Nero's brain was working as
he tried to put the pieces of information together. "But... he
was your brother. How can you not know anything about him?" he
asked in disbelief.

"Before he died, I didn't hear from him for six
years. I didn't even know that he was still alive." Dante's
voice was so unusually soft, Nero almost couldn't hear his words. The
young man cleared his throat.

"So, nothing? We have nothing?"

"I wouldn't say that. We have what you saw, and
what you heard. But, other than that... yeah, nothing."

He rose from his seat, stretching as he walked
around the desk, heading for the stairs. "The sun's still
shining. You know what that means, don't you?" he asked Nero,
not turning his head as he took one step after another.

As Nero didn't answer, he said: "I should still
be asleep, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Wait, what? You're going to sleep? How can you
do that now?"

"Don't be ridiculous, kid. If they want us,
they'll come and get us. Simple as that. And when they do, I'll cut
them in half." He opened the door to his bedroom before closing
it behind him.

Downstairs, Nero was still sitting, looking at the
spot near the stairs where Dante had stood just seconds before.

"Simple as that," he murmured.

Chapter 3: The Grey Among A Colorful World

A fateful night more than a decade ago, a woman
took her last breath and lost her life as a result of the cruelty
only humans could bring...

"We don't want your kind here."

"And I thought we made that pretty clear the
last time we met."

"Maybe we need to teach her some manners."

He eyes were big, huge blue orbs filled with fear as
she stared at the four men in front of her, blocking the alley. The
moon was shining, creating long shadows which crept over the ground,
threatening to swallow her. Fear was starting to eat at her.

"Let me pass," she started, trying to hide
the trembling in her voice, clutching her wide, dark coat tighter
around her small body.

The back of a hand met her cheek, throwing her head
to the other side. She could taste something metallic. Another hand
grabbed her wrists, shoving her against a nearby wall.

"A whore should act like a whore," the man
hissed into her ear, licking her throat. She tried to kick him, but
he used his legs and knees to pin her beneath him. She stared into
his green eyes, not able to move as he held her wrists in a firm
grip.

"I'm not a whore," she hissed, tears of
anger running down her face. His breath crawled over her face –
he smelled like beer, his padded lips slightly parted.

"Then tell me, what are you?" His
voice nothing but a whisper, filled with lust.

"I'm a daughter of Fortuna, just like you are
the sons of Fortuna. How can you do this to one of your sisters?"

She could see the other three men gathering behind
the one who was pressing her against the wall. She could feel how he
shoved one knee between her legs, pushing them apart. "Don't do
this," she tried again, slowly realizing what was about to
happen.

"You're like a child," he snarled, showing
his teeth to her. "You didn't listen, and didn't leave the town.
Now you receive your punishment. It's just fair, don't you think?"
He gave her a bittersweet smile, a hand slowly traveling down her
chest, opening the first buttons of her blouse.

"No!" she screamed, trying to fight him
off. She freed one of her arms and legs, kicking him in the crotch
and hitting his face. He was caught off guard, stumbling backwards as
he fell down, his hands reaching down to hold his testicles. She
rushed forward, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

"Bitch!"

She could hear him scream as she ran into the dark,
but she was stopped immediately as something hard hit her in the back
of her head. She saw stars as she fell down, the hard ground pressing
into her body and scraping her knees. She turned around and tried to
get up, but a foot that rushed down on her chest stopped her.

"You shouldn't have done that," another
man told her, his long hair hanging wildly around his face. He was
leaping down on her, gripping her blouse and ripping it open.

"Fuck," he breathed as he looked down at
her pale body. The injured man stepped to his side, looking down on
her as well.

"So, you're pregnant?" he asked,
surprised, as she began to sob freely. She could only but nod, still
hoping the men would have mercy, but her hope was fading. She could
see that she had scratched the man in the face where her hand had met
his cheek. He was leaning down on her, grabbing her knees and pushing
them apart. He unbuckled his belt with one hand while he ripped at
her skirt with his other hand. She saw their faces hovering above
her, their eyes filled with pure hate and want. The one on top of her
drew his lips near to her collarbone, blocking the moon out of her
view. The world got darker around her, grabbing hold of her heart and
soul. She suddenly knew that she couldn't get out of this situation,
that there was no escape. There was so much hate – what could
she do against it? No. There was no hope for her. But her child, her
unborn child was something worth fighting for. There was hope for her
child. She wasn't even near her due date; only six months pregnant,
her belly almost didn't show, especially not with her wearing large
clothes.

She closed her left hand to form a fist, trying to
hit him again, but another man reached down, kneeling near her head,
holding her hands.

"Oh, no you don't," he grinned, a dirty
smile on his face.

She opened her mouth, ready to scream in her
desperation even though she wanted no one to see her like this.

"You wanna scream? Go ahead and do it. Scream.
No one will come, though; no one wants to get their hands dirty on a
whore like you."

She closed her mouth. He was right, she knew that.
No one would come to help her. Her fate in the people of Fortuna was
gone ever since that day where...

Something hit her lip, splitting it open. She felt
dizzy. Another blow hit her, and another and another, until she
couldn't feel them anymore. Her right eye was swollen shut, her nose
must have been broken, and she was sure to be missing some teeth.

As darkness threatened to take over her, she smiled
in an effort not to cry. She could feel their hands on her, could
feel the man move about her, but the pain in her head was numbing
everything else. A single tear found its way down her face as she
didn't cry for herself, but for her child that she couldn't protect.

Life was cruel.

And that was it.

XXX

A fateful night more than a decade ago, a woman
took her last breath and lost her life as a result of the cruelty
only humans could bring while a devil tried to save his own humanity.

He couldn't say for sure how long she had been
laying there. Maybe an hour or two; the blood already starting to
dry. There wasn't much left of her face. Her eyes were swollen shut,
her nose was nothing but a bloody mess. Her clothes were torn apart.
Even an idiot could see what had happened here.

He was kneeling down, looking at her with keen
interest. One hand reached out to take a hold of her chin, slowly
turning her face to the other side. There was no breathing, no
heartbeat. The woman in front of him was dead.

She didn't deserve this.

He had heard her scream hours ago, but it wasn't his
duty to save her. Life was cruel, it was as simple as that –
the fate of this woman was sealed a long time ago, and there was
nothing he could have done, even if he had wanted to. No.

This was life. It always left a bitter taste in his
mouth. He swallowed hard.

A hand wandered down her broken body, over her chest
and ribcage down to her stomach...

He could feel and see how it was swollen. He laid
the palm of his hand on her belly, frowning. He didn't know for sure
yet, but...

Yes. He could feel the child that was growing in her
body.

It was still alive even though its mother must have
been dead for hours now.

He stilled before he got up. He had followed the
woman a few weeks now, tried to learn her daily routines so he
wouldn't miss anything. For his purpose, she didn't have to die, but
now she was dead... it made things easier for him, to say the least,
but it didn't go the way he wanted it to and he just hated it
when things went out of plan; his plan.

The child was what he'd been looking for, and even
though it was human, it was still pure and innocent – not yet
poisoned by the cruelty of the world; not poisoned by humans. Its
mother was an outcast. He couldn't even understand why she didn't
leave town, why she intended on staying there. The city was a filthy
hole full of people who pretended to be something better than the
rest of the world because they praised the dark knight, Sparda. But
they were not better. They all were rotten from the inside. He could
smell it. They tried to hide all of their ugliness behind their
prayers, hoping to make it to heaven when their time would come...
how selfish.

The child had to live, but not without a price. Even
he wasn't that kind and even he wouldn't save a human child because
he had a soft heart. No. This child should live for his purpose and
his purpose alone.

He drew his sword, the tip of it pointed at the
woman's belly. With one elegant cut, he freed the baby. Between flesh
and blood he could see the small face. It wasn't the woman's due date
yet, he knew that. The infant was tiny, the skin so thin he could see
every blood vessel beneath it. It was a boy.

But it wasn't moving.

He reached down with both hands, getting a hold of
the baby before ripping the umbilical cord off. He held the baby
close to his chest as he looked down at the tiny face. He brought his
lips near to the boy's ear, whispering ancient words that crawled
through his head, embracing him like a soft, warm blanket.

He drew back, waiting for a heartbeat, and another
one. The only thing he could hear was his own breathing. Nothing
happened.

How disappointing. His shoulders dropped.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this child wasn't the
right one. Maybe its fate was sealed before it could truly live.

But then he could see how a small hand moved ever so
slightly. And then the head moved, and then it opened its mouth to
draw in a small breath. The baby lived. Yet he could see that the boy
was strong, no doubt about that, but he was still human; fragile and
tender.

He truly was a devil. Putting such a burden on a
child, how cruel... He scoffed. The boy would gain new power and
maybe would appreciate it someday, but he for himself would lose
something if he hadn't of already lost it. He wasn't so sure anymore
if he ever truly possessed it. So maybe it was just fair,
after all. A life for a life... well, not really.

He was kneeling down, taking the torn clothes off
the boy's dead mother, and then laid the baby upon them on the ground
before wrapping him up inside them. He stood up, smiling and looking
down at the infant as he began to seal his own fate.

XXX

Nero slowly opened his eyes, cold sweat covering his
forehead. He swallowed hard, realizing how thirsty he was. He turned
around, groaning as he felt how stiff his neck was. He had fallen
asleep on the couch, and even though it looked comfortable, it
wasn't.

He ran a hand through his messed up hair.

He had those dreams more often now, and they all
were different. He could still see the bloody body laying in front of
him. He didn't know who the woman was that he saw. He didn't know why
he was kneeling beside her in his dreams, reaching out for her and
turning her head. He thought he saw a glimpse of a broken blue eye,
but most of her blond hair had covered her face, the bloody strands
sprawled over the remains of her face.

It was like a nightmare, but at the same time he had
felt some sort of peace he'd never felt before. A peace that was
buried deep inside him ever since the day he got his demonic arm. It
wasn't the first time, though; he saw this woman in his dreams.
Sometimes he was dreaming he was watching her out of the darkness of
deep shadows. Watching her going shopping for groceries; the other
time he watched her talking to a woman, wearing white clothes. But
every time she turned her head, looking in his direction, he could
see nothing but her deep, blue eyes, burning into his like they were
watching his very own soul.

It scared him more than anything. With her gaze came
a dark wave of bitterness that swallowed and chewed at him until he
was spit out, leaving nothing other than the feeling of betrayal
inside him.

He had talked to Kyrie about it, even with Credo
sometimes. While her older brother had always became very quiet at
those moments when he told him about the woman, Kyrie tried to
comfort him by holding his hand – his human hand, while Credo
kept staring at his demonic arm.

He remembered it as clearly as it was only
yesterday. The day he lost his human arm, the day those dreams had
started. They would come, crashing down on him, carrying everything
away, leaving him behind, empty and hollow.

They were nightmares, but at the same time they left
something inside him burning.

Sometimes he had caught himself looking at other
women, trying to find a blond in the crowd at a vivid market place.
But there were no blonds in Fortuna. The people of Fortuna were a
nation of tall men and tall women. With their pale skin and their
deep brown eyes, they had adapt to their tropical environment. And
Nero just wasn't a part of that. He was smaller than most of
Fortuna's men, but his shoulders were wider, while his cheekbones
were higher, and his nose not as aristocratic. He looked nothing like
them, his almost-white hair not fitting in the picture.

Sometimes he wondered if he really woke from
a nightmare, or if he woke up right into a nightmare...

He looked through a nearby window. It was dark
outside, and a quick gaze to his watch told him that it was already
after 6 pm. It was almost winter; the trees would soon lose their
colored leaves. When he came to Dante's office, he had already had
the feeling that he could smell snow in the fresh, cold air. He heard
footsteps above him and only a few seconds later he saw Dante coming
down the stairs.

He wore old black jeans that had a few too many
holes in them. His chest - as his feet - were bare, and Nero could
clearly see muscles of Dante's abs moving underneath his skin with
every step he took. He felt his mouth go dry at the sight. He shook
his head as he realized he was staring at the other man. Dante
stopped in front of him, looking down at the boy, his body only
inches away from his face.

Dante grinned. "So, you up for going out
tonight?"

XXX

Love Planet was something Nero hadn't seen
before.

As he leaned on the bar, he watched a man and a
woman dancing on the stage, embracing each other, teasing one another
while they both stripped out of their outfits that barely covered
anything. The woman lost her black bra, showing her breasts to the
howling crowd of men beneath the stage. The man took her in his arms,
pushing her upper body down while he ran a tongue over her throat all
the way down to the valley between her breasts, a hand stroking over
one of her thighs. It was an erotic sight and somehow scandalous for
a boy like Nero, who had never witnessed something like that before.

Loud music was booming in his ears as he caught some
of the lyrics right at the moment the singer sung something about
fucking someone like an animal. He wasn't a prude; he didn't really
mind what was going on or what was shown, but all the colors, the
music, and the naked flesh that was everywhere were too much for his
senses. He could feel the heat in his cheeks as he took his glass to
his lips and downed everything in one go. The beer tasted bitter, but
he liked it.

He looked to his right and saw Dante standing in a
narrow corridor that led to the back of the bar, a young woman in
front of him, leaning against a wall while he used one arm on the
wall near her head to support himself. The woman was laughing, and
Dante rose one hand to brush over her lips with his thumb. She smiled
at him while she looked down, embarrassed, a soft red glow covering
her cheeks.

He could see how Dante laughed, using one finger to
play with one of her dark strands.

It looked good for Dante and bad for him. He just
wasn't that kind of guy. His only love so far was Kyrie. They shared
a few kisses, but nothing more. Every time he tried to take one step
further, she would push him gently away, telling him in her own way
'no.' It was okay, but after all, he was an eighteen year old boy,
no, man, and he was... interested in certain things. He wanted to
know how desire would taste; he wanted to know what lust felt like.
He could feel how heat started to spread through his body, making the
world around him spin a little – but maybe it was just the
effects of the alcohol, or the stuffy air.

He turned around to lean on the counter in front of
him, staring at the empty glass in his hands. It didn't feel right to
stand here, drinking alcohol and watching Dante getting it on with
some random chick while something big was going to happen –
sooner or later. Dante had told him that they would find them,
anyway, but why weren't they getting their own hands dirty, and
wasting time not looking for them? Yes, Dante was probably right, but
didn't he want to know who was coming to look for them? Didn't
he want to prepare himself? But maybe he didn't need preparation.
Nero always had the feeling that Dante just did things,
stumbling over his own damn luck by accident.

Just like now with the young girl, running into her
by 'accident,' almost pouring his beer over her white tank-top, and
of course he had to apologize to her in his own special way, like
buying her and him another drink.

He turned around as the music changed, watching as
another two dancers entered the stage. They both danced for
themselves, the woman on the right, the man on the left side of the
stage. He watched as the man moved his body, slowly unzipping his
pants to the music, ripping the fabric off his body with one fluid
motion. His eyes followed the line of his Adam's apple down to his
collarbone, over his firm chest and abs, down to his waist and...

He brought his eyes to the woman in an instant as he
caught himself admiring the male's body. But as he watched her
breasts and the tips of her nipples, he just didn't find them as
interesting as the man's strong arms. His eyes flickered back to
watch him dancing. It wasn't like he was gay, but he had seen naked
women before (of course not Kyrie, but women in magazines), and he
had never watched a naked man...well, almost, or soon to be naked,
this closely. The way the muscles moved underneath his skin, the way
he moved his body to the music, how the sweat glistened on his
chest... he had never seen that before. So he just had to
watch to satisfy his own curiosity.

"Mmh, shouldn't you look the other way? The
chick is to your right," he heard a voice near his ear as Dante
stood next to him, leaning with his elbows on the bar as he watched
the woman and the man dance on the stage.

Nero could feel how embarrassment took over his body
and he quickly looked down on the sticky floor that was covered with
sweat, beer and something he really didn't want to know. "It
wasn't like that," he murmured, not looking at Dante as he did,
but he could feel how the other male leaned closer.

"Did you see the girl I was talking to?"
he asked the boy, quickly changing the topic and his lips were almost
touching his ear as he spoke, his lips brushing ever so gently over
his skin, like the touch of a feather.

Nero turned his head to look behind Dante to see the
corridor where he had just stood seconds ago. The girl was gone.
"Yes," he told him as he ordered a new beer and reached for
it, trying to get some space between them.

"As much as I would have liked to fuck her -"
Nero spit half of his beer out as he heard those words, but Dante
continued as if nothing had happened - "tonight isn't the night.
I just got some interesting information."

Nero used his hand to brush a few drops of beer off
his chin. "That would be...?" The question hung between
them, as Dante took Nero's arm, pulling him with him and leading him
towards a backdoor.

"Not here," he smiled, rising an eyebrow
at Nero, "besides, we don't wanna be late."

"Late for what?"

"The surprise party."
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Equilibrium