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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
- 4
- 5
- 6
DISCLAIMER: I
do not own Devil May Cry or any of its characters.

"Die?" Nero repeated the word, not
believing how the last events had turned out.

It was such a small word, only three letters, but
its weight laid heavy on his shoulders now. This was all too
confusing. In what mess had he stumbled upon now?

"But how can I die? I mean, a soul is a soul...
it's not... physical, you know? I mean..." Nero grimaced. Did
Dante really believe in something like that? A human being didn't
need a soul to live, right? After all, scientists couldn't even prove
that there was something like a soul. There was much more that was
needed for humans to live – a soul couldn't be his destiny!

"How ignorant of you," the old man
chuckled. "You think it only needs a brain and a heart, some
blood and flesh for a human being to live? If Vergil escapes your
body, the only thing that's going to be left will be a shell of your
former self. A piece of flesh and bones; a sarcophagus. It'll
breathe, but that's it. Your soul will die, Nero. Your spirit, if the
term suits you better, will not survive."

"But how can that be?" Nero turned around
to Dante. "I'm me! I'm not your brother. I have my own memories,
my own life. I'm not him." He put his palm on his chest, feeling
his own heart racing. He tried to look into Dante's eyes, wanted to
see those blue orbs, but the devil-hunter let his head hang, staring
at the floor in front of him. Then his gaze lifted. His eyes looked
darker to Nero and he swallowed hard as he saw the look in them.

Chapter 5: 21 Gram

Before the older hunter could answer, something
broke through the ceiling above them. Dust and splinters found their
way into Nero's lungs as he jumped a couple of feet away, trying to
avoid whatever it was that broke through the ceiling. A load roar
broke through the following silence. Something dark and big fell down
on the floor right between Dante, Nero, and the old man; its skin was
black, and yellow eyes were staring at the slayers. Its teeth flared
in a bright white, its tongue sticking out pink. On all fours it
rushed over to Dante, opening its giant mouth, freeing a loud roar.
It was a huge black mess, an ugly demon with skin that had pockmarks
everywhere. It was almost nine feet high and six feet wide. It legs
were rather short, but it moved fast.

As Dante pulled Rebellion out and placed it in front
of him, the demon got up on its rear legs, breaking the ceiling again
while doing so – it was simply too big for the old mansion.

He saw Dante rushing froward, grabbing a hold of Red
Queen as well, but as Nero wanted to jump on the demon's back,
something hit him on his right side. It felt like a dull blow to his
sides, and he stumbled forward as he felt a stitch coming on. But
then another blow hit him in the back, throwing him to the side on
the ground. A hot pain spread over his spine, through his body, and
right into his heart, taking all of his breath. He could taste blood
in his mouth as he laid on the ground, trying to get on his feet
again.

"Nero!" He heard Dante's voice ringing in
his ears as he lifted his head to watch the demon slayer using his
right leg to jump at the wall, pushing his body higher in the air as
Rebellion cut down on the demon's head, but it was too fast and his
blade only found air. He saw Dante looking over his shoulder as he
fell down on his knees to slip underneath the demon's forelegs,
holding Rebellion up to cut through one of its legs.

"Come on, kid, don't sleep now. Get up!"
Dante encouraged the young devil hunter in his own way, trying not to
show the worry in his voice, but it was written all over his face.

Nero pushed himself up with his arms, his upper body
only supported by his elbows, as he turned his head around. His eyes
widened at what he saw.

The old man was still sitting in his chair, not
really caring about what was going on in the big living room. But
there was something sticking out of his back. It looked like a long,
strong leg or something similar, and Nero was sure that this was the
source of what hit him in the first place. But now he could see how
the skin of the man slowly broke away. His face was ripped into
pieces as a dark green mass of flesh and muscles crawled out of his
body. It got bigger and bigger now, the chair underneath the man
shattering into pieces as a giant praying mantis found its way out of
his body. One of its long legs whacked after Nero, but he found the
strength to quickly roll away. He was laying on his back and he could
feel a sticky liquid spreading beneath his clothes. The mantis must
had hurt him well enough for him to bleed. As the adrenaline rushed
through his body, he used all his strength to get himself up. From
his lying position he jumped on his feet, grabbing Red Queen, ready
to fight the cocksucker in front of him. The mantis was showing him
its teeth, a smile creeping over its demonic face.

"Give me Yamato," a dark voice rumbled
from its chest, booming in his ears.

The mantis took one step forward, its body almost
too big to staod upright in the living room. Nero clenched his teeth.
"Only over my dead body."

The demon chuckled in front of him. "Very poor
choice of words."

Dante was turning in mid-air as he watched Nero
holding Red Queen in his hand. The old man was gone, the mantis
standing instead in his former place. He tore Rebellion upwards to
block a blow from one of the demons' claws as his legs found its
head, pushing himself upwards. His body rotated in mid-air as he
rammed his sword in one of its shoulders, cutting right through the
joint. A painful scream rewarded him as he landed on one knee on the
ground, dark blood dripping from his sword's blade. Out of the corner
of his eye, he saw Nero running and jumping high in the air to avoid
being swept off his feet by one of the mantis' claws. The kid held
his sword above his head, as he wanted to cut through one of the four
legs.

Dante's eyes widened. "Watch out!" he
tried to warn him as another claw tried to reach the kid. He saw how
Nero turned in mid-air, trying to block the blow, but it was too
late.

One of the claws pierced right through one of his
shoulders, the impact so strong it pushed him against a wall. Before
he could free himself, another claw pierced through his other
shoulder, Red Queen gliding out of his hand and falling down to the
ground.

"Nero!"

Dante wanted to rush forwards, wanted to cut the
demonic insect into little pieces, but the giant paw of the demon
behind him met his back, claws digging deep cuts into him. He growled
in pain as he turned around, ready to cut its head off. He could see
how the wounds he had inflicted on the demon were already healing.
"Motherfucker..." he cursed under his breath as he attacked
the demon once again.

Nero felt the beast's claws sticking in his
shoulders, holding him tight against the wall a couple of feet above
the ground. He wasn't able to move his arms at this state, and he
glared at the mantis in front of him.

"You're thinking of your Devil Bringer,"
the voice purred as it held Nero in his place, adding a little bit
more force into his claws, cutting deeper into Nero's flesh. He could
hear muscles ripping, bones shattering. A husky scream escaped his
throat.

A blue glow started to cover his body, as his Devil
Bringer started to work on its own. He could feel the power rising
within him, a warm tingling covering his whole body. He felt how the
arm and hand of his Devil Bringer was formed, ready to strike at the
mantis.

Before the Devil Bringer could move, he felt the
sudden urge to cough. He blinked in disbelief as he spit out a large
amount of blood. Not knowing what had happened, he looked at the
grinning mantis and back at his body. The hilt of Red Queen was
sticking out of the middle of his chest. An ugly picture of a deja-vu
formed in his head. Hadn't he been here before? Pinned to a wall with
a sword cutting through his guts? But the pain was the same; it
threatened to take over all of his senses as it collapsed over him.
He blinked a few times as his vision begun to blur.

"No you won't," he heard the mantis' voice
cutting through the fog of pain in his brain.

"Nero!" He could hear Dante scream, and he
turned his head to where the voice had come from. He looked into
Dante's with horror-filled eyes as the sword was pushed deeper into
his body. A new stream of blood found its way through his throat,
dripping from his chin down on the floor beneath him, joining the
already existing puddle of blood. He felt his body go limp as his
vision was fading, darkness overtaking him. He felt his body grow
heavy, the pain in his shoulders almost too much to bare. He wished
for the pain to end, as the sword was pushed once again deeper into
his body. He didn't have the strength to scream anymore, nor was he
able to lift his head as he sank deeper. Everything became dark; his
eyelids grew heavier, and sleep became a wonderful idea. He drifted
slowly out of consciousness, not remembering anymore why it was so
important for him to stay awake.

XXX

A hot white light crept over his body like the small
waves of water in a warm tub. It felt like peace, as his body didn't
seem to have any more weight; there was no pain, no worry, no fight.
Silence swallowed every noise as his body floated through empty white
space. He felt tired, incredibly tired, and he wanted nothing more
than to sleep. The idea to sleep forever sounded wonderful in his
head, but his feet met cold, wet ground as his journey stopped in
front of a dark wall with a closed door right in front of him.

It opened by itself as he walked through the door,
entering black nothingness. He didn't want to leave the warm and
peaceful light, but his feet moved on their own. The white, bright
light continued to shine behind him as he walked into darkness.
Dripping water was echoing somewhere as the door behind him closed by
itself, leaving him alone in the Nothingness. It felt as if he had
had a wonderful dream, and now that he had woken up, the cruelty of
reality hit him with full force. He wanted nothing more than to go
back into the light.

"Hello?" he asked, almost whispering.
"What's going on here?" he murmured. He heard the rattle of
a chain somewhere near him, and he almost jumped at the sound.

"Who's there?" He stretched out his arm,
trying to find a wall that could help him walk through the black
mess. He took small steps forward, as he didn't know where he was
going. Another rattle echoed through the room, and he could see how a
small light formed right in front of him. He took bigger steps as he
walked forward to the light and as he was near enough, he could see
that it was the flame of a candle. The flickering light showed a room
with naked stone walls and a cold, wet floor. Another rattle caught
his attention and he turned his head to the right.

Nero gasped at the sight, taking one step back.

"Are you here to kill me now?" A small boy
was sitting on the floor, his knees pressed to his chest as his arms
tugged around his legs. He wore an old pair of pyjama bottoms that
were dirty and torn at most places, his upper body naked as well as
his feet. He looked dirty and worn out. His hair must have been at
some point a bright blonde, but now it was covered with dirt. His
cheeks were shrunken, his lips cracked. Blue eyes were staring at him
as the boy slowly rose to his feet, a chain around one of his ankles.
He was so thin that Nero could see his ribs. The boy couldn't be
older than eight.

"To kill you? Why would I do that?" He
took another step back, not knowing what was going on, so he'd rather
bring some space between him and the boy, even though the child
didn't look like he would have enough strength to harm him.

"Because he told me the next time he would
come, he would kill me... but you're not him, are you?" the boy
asked, his voice filled with bitterness. For a child that knew he
would be killed, he sounded incredibly calm.

Nero swallowed. "Whoever he is... I'm not him.
I'm not here to harm you."

The shoulders of the boy dropped and he folded his
legs beneath him as he sat down again. He drew small invisible
circles with one of his fingers on the floor. "Oh..." He
sounded disappointed.

"Is this... a prison?" Nero asked, looking
at the high walls surrounding them.

"No," he answered him, not really caring,
as his gaze stared off into empty space. Then the boy looked up at
him as if he just got an idea. "Why are you here?"

Nero looked down at his hands, trying to find an
answer. It was a good question, though. Why was he here and more
importantly: what got him here? The last thing he could remember was
standing in the middle of a battlefield surrounded by ruins, a girl
standing in the background as he was talking to a man. He couldn't
remember the words, but he remembered the feelings he had.

"I... I don't know," he told the boy,
joining the kid by sitting on the ground. "Who brought you
here?" he asked the boy – maybe the child could help him
to sort things out.

"No one. I'm hiding."

"Hiding?"

The boy looked up at him, blue eyes meeting blue
eyes. But he didn't answer and brought his focus back to the ground
where his fingers were still drawing. "I've been here for a long
time," the boy suddenly spoke softly, after Nero thought he
wouldn't start again. His voice was low and didn't sound at all like
the voice of a child. "But I never had a visitor."

Nero leaned his back against a nearby wall. "How
long have you been here?"

The boy sighed. "Years, I guess. Decades. I
don't know."

"Decades?" Nero asked, surprised. If this
was the truth, the boy would be clearly older than he looked. But as
hard as he tried to look across the layers of dirt, it was just a
child he saw.

"What's the last thing you remember?" the
boy asked him, his voice nothing but a low whisper.

"Talking to someone..."

"A friend, huh?" The boy looked at him
before his gaze stared off again. "The last thing I remember is
my mom." His voice was covered with a thick layer of sadness as
he lifted his head again to stare Nero directly in his eyes. "I
saw her dying." He almost spit the words.

Nero didn't know what to say. He was never good with
kids; he always felt uncomfortable around them. He didn't know how to
answer, so the only thing that left his mouth was a stupid, "Oh...".

"I still remember every line of her face. The
way she looked when she smiled and the way she looked as she died. Do
you remember your mother?"

"I... uhm, I..." Nero tried to answer, but
all of this was so unreal that he had a hard time keeping his focus
on the conversation he was having with the boy. He knew that he
needed to figure a way out to escape this place, but at the same time
he just wanted to sit down for a little while to regain strength. He
still felt so tired, and this place seemed to suck the life out of
his body.

"No. I don't remember her. I don't have a
mother," he told him. The boy looked surprised and his face
turned into a grimace.

"That's not true. Everybody has a mother."

"Well, I don't," he answered, and the boy
shut up. Nero sounded more angry than he wanted to be – he felt
almost sorry for barking at the kid like that.

"You miss your mum?" Nero tried after a
while again, but he had to use all of his strength to form and speak
the words. He felt as if he had run a marathon. The boy nodded. Nero
swallowed hard. "You... you say the last thing you remember
is... is her dying..." He stopped, not knowing if he should
continue, too afraid of the answer. "Are you – are you
dead, too?"

Maybe he was in hell. Maybe he was dead. Maybe all
of this was just a dream – but first he needed to sort things
out. Get rid of the 'I'm-in-hell'-theory. At least he hoped so. Then
maybe it would be a dream, and that was something he could control.

"You could put it that way. I think I am."

Nero felt how his face turned grey as all the air
was knocked out of his lungs. So this was... hell? Clearly not
heaven.

"You think, or you know?" he tried again.

"I think," the boy answered. "I'm not
sure." Hope was flickering inside him like the candle in front
of him.

"How did you get here?" Maybe the kid knew
who brought him here too. But the boy shook his head.

"I came here by my own free will. I think it
was right after my mum's death..."

"Why?"

The boy sighed. "To be saved."

This couldn't be real now could it? A picture of a
man popped into his head and in the distance he could hear a voice
scream his name – he had the feeling as if he was missing
something, but he couldn't remember what. He remembered talking to
this man, but as he tried to find something in his memory that he
could use, he felt how the pictures of past moments slipped through
his fingers like sand.

"Do you remember something else? I mean,
besides your mother's death..."

The boy looked away, blonde hair covering his eyes.
"I remember my old room... and how the kitchen smelt when my mom
cooked. I remember," he looked up at Nero, "being happy."
Pain was written all over his face. "At first those where the
only memories I had and..." But he stopped, not able to speak
further.

Nero pinched the bridge between his nose and
forehead as he felt a headache rising. He needed to talk to someone,
he needed to... His thoughts were foggy. "I..." He
swallowed hard, moving his body next to the boy. "I have the
feeling as if I'm losing myself." He massaged his temples with
his fingers. "I can't remember..." A sharp pain ripped
through his head as if his skull was cracked open.

Nero tried once more, hoping to clear his head with
the task of forming words. "What's your name, boy?"

Blue orbs stared into his as he blew a strand of
hair out of his face.

"Vergil. My name's Vergil."

White stars exploded behind his eyes as pain rushed
through his body, eating him like a black shadow, swallowing him
alive. He fell forward, using his hands to balance himself, as he
could already taste the vomit. He swallowed again, coughing. He knew
that he heard this name before, but when and where? He had the
feeling that this information must be important to him, but he didn't
know why.

He was breathing hard.

How long had he been here?

"You're weird," the boy told him, looking
at him with dull eyes. "You're not supposed to be here, are
you?" He wanted to know.

"I... I don't know." Nero brought his hand
to his chest. He had the feeling as if his heart would break out of
his chest any moment. "Tell me."

"About what?" the boy asked him.

"You. Tell me about you." He had a hard
time breathing, but Nero thought that if the boy would keep talking
about his past, he would find out more about his own. His gaze found
his fingers and he saw how the wet stone of the floor was showing
through them. He lifted his hand, looking at it; it was partly
invisible. He could see the wall behind his hand and this was not
good. Not good at all. What the hell was happening here?

"I... me? I recall only a few things back. Like
how my room looked. With a bed underneath the window. I can't
remember the titles of the books on the shelf, though. But I remember
my brother. I think he was kinda getting on my nerves... but now I
miss him, too."

"Your... brother?" Nero breathed, falling
down on the ground, no longer able to support his weight with his
arms. The floor pressed cool against his cheek.

"Yes. I don't know." He shook his head.
"Why do you want to know?" he asked him in a casual matter.

And then, as he was laying on the cold floor, his
cheek pressed against the stone, his body incredibly heavy, as
breathing became a burden and his heart raced in his chest, he knew
what was happening.

"I'm dying!" Nero shouted
desperately as reality hit him, trying to look at the boy but he was
too weak now to lift his head. "I don't know what's happening
here. Don't you care at all?"

"Why should I care? I'm trapped here. You can't
save me. I was lost a long time ago."

"Your brother's name..." But he couldn't
talk further.

"Dante."

Nero!

He could hear someone scream, his eyes growing
heavy. Sleep. He wanted to sleep. He closed his eyes but he could
still see the flicker of the candle, the blurry contours of the stone
wall in front of him. His body started to faint, but he was still
able to think.

"If this isn't a prison, then what is it?"

"The Irony of Fate? Let me ask you something."

Nero listened. Did the boy sound angry?

"Have you ever tried to stop to think?"

It took him a lot to let the questions sink into his
brain, to crack the code of the words, to understand the meaning of
them before he could answer.

"When I was a child, maybe."

"Did it work?"

Thinking was very difficult now.

"No." He pressed the word out.

"So how could you break out of your own mind?"

"My... mind?" Breathing became difficult
now.

He could hear the rustle of fabric and soon saw two
pair of dirty feet in front of him.

"You know why I'm here? Because life was too
cruel. I tried to hide here, tried to forget everything bad that had
ever happened to me. But it didn't work. You can't hide from your
memories, just as you can't stop thinking."

The voice of the boy sounded so far away.

"After my mom died I had only one choice."

What choice? He wanted to ask, but he
couldn't find a way to move his mouth anymore. But the boy didn't
need to hear his voice to continue.

"I couldn't endure that much pain. To keep that
last piece of innocence, I came here. I spent so many years in here
but I never forgot. I remember parts of my past and it hurts. I
endure the pain, while it seems that you try to run away from it; you
want to forget."

No... no that's not true. I need to
remember...

"From what do you need to hide?" The boy
crouched near him, looking at him with great curiosity as he asked
his question.

"Alea iacta est ..."*He heard the
long forgotten words in his head.

A foot kicked him in the side, softly. "You're
going to lose yourself in your own mind. I can hardly see you
anymore." He saw the feet of the boy turning around. It was the
last thing he saw before darkness swallowed him once more.

XXX

"Did you hear that?"

He heard the voice of his brother, whispering and
full of fear. A look out the window told him that it was still night.
It was dark and there weren't any lights shining. No moon, no stars.

He threw his blanket off his body, his feet landing
softly on the cold floor. He brought his finger up to his lips,
showing Dante to make no sound. His brother nodded.

Making no sound, he walked slowly towards their
door, pressing his ear against the wood. But he couldn't hear
anything, only the loud ticking of the old longcase clock at the end
of the floor behind their door.

"What's going on?" Dante whispered loudly
and his brother hushed, waving his hand. He looked angrily at the boy
before a loud crash ran through their home. The moment it happened,
he threw the door open rushing downstairs.

"Stay in your room!" he called over his
shoulder before his body was out of Dante's sight. Dante jumped out
of his bed running to the door as well.

"I mean it! I kill you if you do!" Dante
heard the voice of his brother, immediately stopping his tracks,
before he could reach the door.

Vergil could hear glass breaking as he ran across
the floor and right into the kitchen. He saw splinters of glass
laying on the floor as the window was broken next to the stove. It
was still lit and a pot of boiling water was standing on the flame
while a cup and a teabag were lying next to it. "Mom?" he
asked quietly, entering the living room; it was as empty as the
kitchen was. The fireplace was lit and the wood was cracking loudly
in the silence, casting big shadows that were dancing across the
walls.

He glared at the stairs that led into the basement.
He took small steps that brought him nearer and he stopped at the
top, starring into the darkness. "Mom?" he asked again,
taking a hold of the banisters. He slowly took one stair and another
as he walked downstairs. He heard a muffled rumble and stopped within
his movements.

"Vergil?" He could hear his brother
whispering above him, leaning at the banisters staring, down in the
hall of their home. His blonde hair seemed to beam softly in the
darkness.

"Go back, Dante!" he hissed, slowly
walking down.

He stopped only a few inches away from the door. At
some point it must have been broken; the hinges weren't in their
places anymore, but it was still closed.

"Why did you come here?" It was his
mother's voice, and she sounded as if she were crying. He felt a lump
forming in his throat as his body stiffened. "My children are
here!"

"Then they have to watch." It was a low
and dark voice speaking. He reached for the door and pressed his ear
against the wood where it was splintered, as something had hit it
there.

"No! You can't do that. Do you have no shame?"
He heard flesh hitting flesh followed by another rumble and the soft
cry of his mother. He clenched his teeth as he felt anger rising, one
of his hands forming a fist.

"Choose your words carefully. I could have have
raped you right in front of their eyes, then kill you and while you
take your last breath, I could have killed them as well. Is this what
you wish for?"

He didn't hear the answer of his mother as hard as
he tried.

Then, "Let them go," followed by a low
chuckle.

"No. Besides, he's already here."

"What...?" His mother sounded surprised
and before he realized it, the door flew open and a dark, big hand
with long claws and skin as dark as the night reached for his shirt,
grabbing him by the collar, dragging him inside. His small hands
found the arm that belonged to the hand, but it was so much bigger
than a human hand.

"Don't!" His mother was by his side before
he knew it, tugging at the arm as well. Her eyes were big with fear
and unleashed tears. But she wasn't strong enough. He heard the door
slamming shut behind him as the smell of roses filled his nose. He
saw her wearing a blue dress, a dress she often wore. It was her
favorite one. But now there were stains of blood on it. Her lip had
split open where he had hit her. A dark growl formed in his throat,
as he bit down on the arm until he tasted blood. Even though he knew
it must have hurt him, his body was thrown against a wall as the
beast didn't care. He heard ringing in his ears as his body slid limp
to the ground. He saw his mother leaning over him, stroking his hair
as she formed words he couldn't understand while the lines of his
mother's face were still blurry.

"...ove you. Don't watch." A hand grabbed
her hair, throwing her to the other side of the room away from him. A
dark shadow was hovering above Vergil but he couldn't see as tears
started to run down his cheeks. A blunt force hit him in the stomach.
He looked down as he felt something wet covering his shirt. Blood.
There was blood.

"Mom?" he asked as if he had had a bad
dream and needed the warm and soothing words only a mother could
give. He coughed and it hurt. The shadow above him rose and soon he
could see nothing but the dark mass in front of him. A cry escaped
his lips as he felt an invincible pressure taking a hold of his head,
crushing down on him. His hands found his head, holding it as if they
could do something against it. But it felt as if his head was caught
between some vice. He couldn't take it anymore as the pain grew, his
throat already horse from screaming.

"No!" He heard her voice full of pain and
fear.

He fell down to the ground holding his head as he
saw a bright light. The shadow above him suddenly disappeared as it
turned around. The pressure in his head was suddenly gone, the only
thing left was a really bad headache. He laid on the cold floor of
their basement, panting heavily. His mother was out of his sight as
well as the shadow. White spots were dancing in front of his eyes, as
if he wasn't getting enough air into his lungs.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear his
brother's voice screaming as someone was pounding against the door,
while he heard how a body was shoved around the basement, hitting
walls and furniture. He wanted to move, wanted to run away, wanted to
get Yamato, wanted to kill the man who caused him and his mother so
much pain, but he couldn't move; his body still too exhausted.

He heard a high-pitched scream and then something
fell over him and knocked the air out of his lungs. His brother's
voice was no longer heard; the only thing that was audible were the
soft pants of the beast.

"Do whatever you need to do," the voice
told someone Vergil couldn't see. He shoved the thing that laid on
him aside, looking at it as he did. His mother's eyes stared back at
him, her face covered with blood. Her lips moved but no sound came
out. The banging at the door returned, and shouting was heard, but he
didn't care. He stilled in his motions and just kept staring at his
dying mother.

"Vergil..." He heard her speaking his name
as her eyes were searching for something. A loud cry broke from the
door and his mother's eyes went big. "Dante!"

He reached out for her, but her body was suddenly
ripped away from him. A loud roar ran through his body, shaking him
violently. His eyes found a demon standing above them, its claws
sticking out of his mother's abdomen. He heard her gurgling as blood
was leaving her mouth, dripping on the floor beneath them. The demon
turned his hand and the body of his mother fell down next to him. He
just stared at her in shock, not able to move. His eyes moved from
his mother's body to the demon. He could see raw flesh sticking to
its claws and he knew it belonged to his mother. He couldn't feel
anything anymore but powerless. He wanted to move, wanted to hold his
mother in his arms, wanted to scream at his brother to run away, to
save himself for he was sure to die as well. As tears were rolling
down his face he looked at his mother again. Dead eyes were staring
at him, but her lips formed only one word: "Run..." His
hand had found hers, squeezing it gently. He realized only seconds
later that this gesture was no use, since her arm had been separated
from her body. The blood of his mother was covering him from head to
toe and he couldn't tell anymore which was hers or his.

He heard the demon moving above him and a reaping
hook flashing in front of him before it crushed down on his body, but
before the steel could cut through his flesh, his mother moved with
her last strength. She brought her body between his and the weapon.
Vergil witnessed how it cut through her body. The sound of ripping
flesh and breaking bones carved themselves in his memory. As his
mother's body hit the ground, he knew she was dead. With horror
filled eyes, he looked at her corpse.

The demon above him screamed furiously and he knew,
if he wouldn't move now, if he wouldn't do anything now; his
mother's death would be pointless. She had given her own life to save
him... he needed to survive; he needed to save his brother.

The demon took his weapon, holding it high above his
head before it crushed down on him once more.

XXX

Nero suddenly took a breath, like a man who was
drowning. He breathed and breathed and filled his lungs with the so
much needed air. He felt tracks of tears on his face and his throat
hurt like he had screamed.

"Roses," the boy by his side said, looking
off in the far distance. "That's what she smelt like, didn't
she?"

Still short of breath, Nero just nodded. "I- I
dreamed of the basement before, of the staircase, but..."

"You were always too afraid to go down that
path. I know."

"How?"

"I was there, don't you remember?"

"No- I... it was your memory all alone, wasn't
it." It wasn't a question but a statement.

Regardless, Vergil still answered. "Yes."

And Dante's as well?

"... Dante." Suddenly, the pictures were
returning. The old mansion, the man, the demons, Dante screaming at
him and pain running through his body. The memory he had before, him
and Dante standing in the middle of Fortuna, and Kyrie...

The boy looked for something in his pocket, then
handed it out to Nero.

"Take it."

"What?" Nero looked at a small
pocketknife. And he remembered the pocketknife laying on the small
table near to his, no, to Vergil's bed in their, his, home.

"Take it."

"What for?"

"My father gave it to me. I used it to carve
wood. It was already here when I was came here. I guess at some point
in my life it was important to me."

"Then why give it to me?"

"I think it could be important for you, too.
Besides, I don't have anything to carve here." Vergil tried to
smile. And Nero suddenly realized. While this was the body of a young
boy in front of him, the years in his exile didn't change his age,
but his mind. This boy wasn't a boy – he was a man trapped in a
timeless body. This child had endured so much. He swallowed hard.

His fingers brushed the hilt of the knife.
"Thanks..." He took the blade and the second his fingers
were wrapping around the shaft, a bright light captured him, taking
him with it.

XXX

He opened his eyes and with it came the pain that
ran through his body.

"Nero!"

Dante's scream broke through him. Nero's head came
up and he saw the mantis in front of him and the hilt of his sword
still sticking out of his chest. He felt something heavy in his
pocket of his pants and a new strength filled his body. He brought
his hands to the wall behind him and pushed his palms against the
wood. He pushed his body forward with the strength of his arms. A
scream formed in his throat as his body slid over the sharp blade
until it slid over the hilt. He fell to the ground, his knees hitting
the floor as his upper body fell forward and his hands caught his
fall. Blond hairs fell into his face, blocking his view, but he could
hear a gasp from the demon in front of him. He felt dizzy because of
the loss of blood, but he still managed to get up. He turned around
and saw his sword pinned to the wall. He took the grip of the hilt
and took it out. The weight in his hand felt familiar and right.

"Now..." he said as he turned around,
pointing the sword upwards so it was facing the the mantis. "Let's
get down to business." He ran forwards, shoving his swords in
front of him, aiming for the mantis' belly. But the demon rushed to
the side, too fast for his sword and it crushed into the next wall,
tearing it down.

"Nero!" He heard Dante's voice again and
turned around, a grin showing on his lips. The other man was still
fighting with the other demon and it seemed whenever his blade found
its body and cut through limbs, they would regrow. It was like
fighting against windmills. The mantis hit after him and he quickly
jumped backwards, doing a backward flip and landed securely on both
of his feet, slashing after a clawed leg, and his blade found muscles
and flesh and cut easily through it. A pained howl ran through the
air followed by an angry, deep growl. The mantis stumbled backwards
with only three intact legs left.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw how Dante
slashed after a leg of the beast, too, and after he cut through it,
this time a new one wouldn't grow back.

"Dante!" He drew the attention of the man
to him. "We have to aim for the same spot. They're somehow
connected. When you cut through the right leg, I'll do the same.
They'll both get hurt!" Excitement swung in his voice as new
hope pumped through his body. Both hunters aimed for another leg,
both of their blades finding their target again. They fought side by
side, mirroring their own actions in order to slay the demons in
front of them. As both demons lost their second leg, they were no
longer able to hold their bodies above the ground. They both
collapsed, but still fought against the devil hunters.

"The head! Aim for the head!" He could
hear Dante's words as he jumped upon the mantis' shoulder, holding
Red Queen above his head to cut through the neck while Dante did the
same. Just inches before his sword would meet the demon's neck,
something hit him in the side and threw him off the mantis. He fell
down on the floor, his wounded shoulder hitting the floor first. New
pain rushed through his body and his vision was, for a few seconds,
black. But it was enough time for the mantis to rise above him,
raising his remaining leg to let it rush down on Nero. The claws
found their way through his stomach, pinning him down to the ground.
He almost didn't feel the pain as his body was hurt so much already.
He had lost his sword from the impact, the blade laying uselessly on
the ground only a couple of inches away from his hand. But as hard as
he tried to stretch his arm, to reach for the sword, his fingers
wouldn't grab it. He cursed as the foul breath of the mantis crept
over his face, as its giant mouth hovered only mere inches above him.

"Yamato." Only a word, but so much more.
It still wanted the sword and Nero knew the mantis wouldn't let him
die before he granted its wish. He just spit in its face, but the
demon wouldn't withdraw. Before he realized it, it drew its claw out
of his stomach, before it rushed down on him again. And again. And
again. He saw a flash of red coming to his side, jumping on the
mantis, cutting mercilessly at the demons back. It helped though,
because it stopped attacking Nero, but the damage was already done.
He could hardly breathe anymore, as the pain was too much.

"Come on now, kid; this is getting
embarrassing. Just kill the fucker already!"

And as he leaned to the side to try to get a hold of
his sword again, he felt it poking into his thigh. He immediately
stopped his movement and shoved one hand into his pocket to grab the
small knife. He opened the blade and turned around. He saw how Dante
was thrown off the mantis by the other demon, his sword cutting after
it. "The head, Dante! The head!" he shouted at the other
hunter, as he aimed right between the mantis' eyes. He saw how Dante
swung himself onto the other demon's shoulder, ready to strike the
final blow. As Dante lifted his sword to let it crush down on the
demon's neck, he threw the knife like a dagger at the mantis. The
blade cut through the air and as Dante's sword cut into the demon's
neck, his blade found its target right between the eyes of the
mantis.

The claw withdrew from his stomach as the demon
reared up before collapsing to the side. He saw the head of the other
demon falling down on the floor while Dante still stood on the
beast's shoulders. The mantis' body began to glow in a low white
light, and Nero watched its body begin to fade until it was gone,
while the body of the other demon turned into a pile of ashes.

For a few seconds the only thing that could be heard
was the hard breathing of both men, before Dante slowly turned to
Nero.

The older man picked him slowly up and Nero
collapsed into his arms. Dante helped him to stand but he still
needed help to support himself while Dante's hands took a hold of his
hips. Blue eyes captured his in a stare as he felt broken pieces of
wood carve into his back as his body relaxed against a nearby wall,
but he didn't care. He felt like coming back from the dead and the
worst part was that it could actually be true. He didn't know what
had happened while he was out and he realized that he was too scared
to ask. The look in Dante's eyes was almost enough.

He felt a hand travel from his hip over his stomach
and chest right to his shoulder then back again. Where his fingers
touched his skin through the ripped fabric, it felt like soft
electrical jolts. Nero leaned forward so his head could rest on the
other male's shoulder while his arms reached around Dante's body to
hold on to his back.

His throat hurt and he had an incredible need for
water. His lips felt so very dry.

"I'm sorry..." He heard his voice and a
whisper of broken words that cut through the silence.

"Fucking idiot." Dante's reply wasn't very
polite, but he didn't expect anything else. To be honest, he was
surprised that the devil-hunter hadn't cut off his head yet, but
instead held him close to his body, his breath crawling softly over
his neck.

"Now what?" Nero asked, and his eyes
closed on themselves as he felt how tired he really was. His nose was
near Dante's Adam's Apple and he could feel how it moved as he took a
deep breath and swallowed hard. He smelled like rain.

Dante's body moved a little bit as one of his hands
traveled around his waist and stopped at his lower back. He wished
his shirt was torn there, too.

"Now the important part is..." Dante's
hand moved on its own and started a circling motion, "to get you
better."

"...mh?" He wasn't able to speak any
further as the movements of the other's hand soothed him.

Dante withdrew his hand and turned Nero to the left
to lay his arm around his shoulder so he could support him while they
walked. He felt how Dante's body stiffened and his gaze captured a
shiny object laying on the ground a few feet in front of him. He
freed himself from Dante and took slow steps forward it. He stopped
in front of the object and picked it up. He looked at the pocketknife
for the first time since he had regained consciousness. It looked the
same as it had looked in his dream, but since the last events he
wasn't so sure if it really was a dream. How had the knife from his
dream gotten into his pocket?

He heard steps behind him and felt Dante's body
standing only inches behind him.

"Where did you got this?" He heard the
older hunter's voice washing over his body and he shuddered.

"I don't know." And it was the truth. He
remembered being trapped somewhere, talking to this kid that
called himself Vergil, the memory of his murdered mother, but... was
this real? Or did he fantasize while he was at the brink of death?
Maybe he had found the knife somewhere a couple of days ago, forgot
that he had it, and mixed things up in his mind.

A low chuckle ran through Dante's body and Nero
could feel how a hand squeezed his shoulder.

"I never thought I would see it again."
But even though Dante had chuckled only seconds before, his voice
sounded empty.

"Then it's really yours," Nero said, as
his fingers tracked every line of the knife in his hands while he
leaned his body against Dante's, as he was still so very weak.

"No. It was my brother's."

A/N:

*Alea iacta est - The die is cast.
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