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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N:
Whew, December was and still is a bitch! I had a load of work to do
but since yesterday I'm snowed in so there's lot of free time to
write ;) So here you go, chapter 7 and it's not betaed!
I updated anyway, but a little help would be great.... I know there
are errors. ^^

They had
hardly spoken the last five days. Dante had never talked about taking
Yamato again and Nero got the lightest of feelings that he might care
about him after all.

He had
choose not to leave, but to stay here at Devil May Cry. The devil
hunter had told him he would kill him if he had to, but after the
days passed and nothing happened and as he had watched Dante stare
off into nothingness, he got the idea that he was figuring out a way
for them to wake up from this nightmare they fell into. He never
wanted to believe that the demon hunter would kill him and he never
thought that he might do it – he sure hoped that his feeling
wasn't betraying him. After Dante had fought against him at Fortuna,
he had thought about Dante as an enemy – as the devil hunter
gave him his brothers sword, the enemy became his ally and as Dante
had helped him to fight against the savior an ally became a friend.
Could a friend really kill him? But he had killed his brother, hadn't
he? Now what would keep him from killing Nero?

The
people at Fortuna would look at him like he was one of the demons
that had attacked the city – he was adopted by Kyrie's and
Creedo's parents and it was the only reason why they had tolerate
him, but never accepted. Dante was never like that. Right at the
moment as he had drawn Blue Rose to fire his bullets at the man who
had killed his Holiness, at the moment were their swords had touched
each other, Dante had accepted him as an worthy opponent. Even though
he was furious at that moment, he had enjoyed fighting the man who
never showed him any pity. Nero wasn't arrogant enough to think that
he was an equal fighter to Dante, no, the older man was after all
better than him, even though he would never admit it in front of him.
But Dante could have killed him in Fortuna if he had wanted to, but
he chose not to do so. Maybe Dante didn't knew it, but he had honor;
he was an honorable swordsman and he wouldn't stab Nero in the back
while he slept. Even on the brink of death, Nero wasn't afraid of
Dante.

He
remembered last night as he was sitting on the red leather couch and
with Dante sitting at the chair of his mighty desk, resting his feet
on the polished dark wood, his eyes closed in deep thoughts.

It was
already dark outside and he just couldn't hold it any longer in. So
he had to ask him.

“How
will you be sure that I'm not going to die if you take Yamato.”

Dante had
looked straight at him. Nero had seen him frowning and traced the
lines of every muscle and bone of the face that reminded him so much
of himself.

“He's
sharing his memories with you – now, that is a good and a bad
thing.”

Nero had
looked at him, dumbfounded. Dante sighed.

“It
means that his soul is by far more connected to yours than maybe the
old man thought it was. ”

“Have
you ever thought”, he started and looked at Dante, “that
it would slow the process of Vergil taking control over me, when I
don't have Yamato with me? Maybe it would actually stop it.”

“No.
It can't be just the sword. The sword is just a thing, a piece
of steel and wood. It doesn't breath, it doesn't think. To make
things short: it's not alive. But you are. You're human with a
demonic arm. Vergil's soul has already left the sword to become once
with yours.”

“But
then it wouldn't be a problem to remove it now would it?”

The other
hunter sighed. “Maybe not. But if it wouldn't you know what
that means don't you?”

It had
felt like getting a blow into the stomach.

Dante
continued: “It means that it doesn't matter anymore to remove
or not remove the sword. His soul's already connected with yours.”

The way
how Dante had put it made him realize, finally realize, that it was
maybe already too late. He knew it should scare him, but it didn't.
It made him furious and he just couldn't understand how Dante could
just sit there, doing nothing. But maybe Dante was more the man Nero
just saw and his actions weren't visible to him.

“How
can you be so sure? How do you know all of this?”

Dante had
pressed his lips together as he had frowned. “I don't.”,
he had told him and that was it.

Chapter
7: Spielmannsfluch

Dante
hadn't talk much to him after that and shortly after their short
conservation he went out and left Nero by his own at the empty
office. He had asked him to come with him, to get out of the
tristesse of Devil May Cry, but Nero thought it would just be like
acting. Did Dante expect him to sit with him at Love Planet,
drinking beer, checking out
babes while Nero didn't know if he would survive all of this while
Dante didn't know who's going to take revenge on him for something
his brother did? But maybe he didn't care.

He had another way of dealing with these kind of things than Dante –
even though it had brought him more trouble in the past. He liked to
rush into things, to get in action as soon as possible – back
at Fortuna it got him almost killed.

A chill run through his body, creating goose bumps all over his skin.
He rubbed his arms as it felt cold in the office.

It was
almost 2 am and he didn't think that the devil hunter would return
soon. He wasn't worried but rather annoyed. He rose from his seat and
walked through the room for the millionth time that evening. He
didn't want to admit it, but he was bored. Despite the fear he felt
if he thought about his own future, he was bored like hell. Maybe he
judged Dante too early – if he thought about it, it didn't
sound that bad to get out of Devil May Cry, getting in contact with
other people, thinking about something different than Yamato and
demons and actually have some fun. Yeah, looking at half-naked
dancers would definitely be more fun. He remembered the last time he
had visited Love Planet and
he still got the picture in his head of the well formed muscles
dancing underneath the strippers skin as he moved his body to the
music.

Nero shook his had – now, wasn't he supposed to imagine the
tits of the girl Dante called Hazel? He scoffed as he recalled her
outfit that evening and how her body felt against his as she had
pressed herself into him. Somehow that thought wasn't as exciting as
the one about the male stripper.

Buried in his own thoughts he starred through the windows of the
office and he saw that it had snowed. The city was covered under a
heavy blanket of white and ice crystals already started to bloom at
the windows surface.

It had never snowed in Fortuna – there was only one time where
he had seen snow and that was because of the demons that had took a
hold of the city. It wasn't natural. To see the flakes dancing in the
wind made him realize how far away he was from the city and how far
away he was from the judging eyes of its residents – and he
still thought of them when he was with Dante. He never would have
thought that Fortuna's shadows were long enough for them to reach him
here.

His gaze caught a figure standing outside in the middle of the
street. He almost turned away as he didn't pay it any attention, but
something hold him where he was standing. He narrowed his eyes in
suspicion. It felt as if the temperature in the office had dropped
even more and at first he thought he might had imagined it, but as he
saw his own breath in a white cloud forming in front of his face, he
knew that something wasn't right.

Almost on its own his hand found the knob of the door and he turned
it around, opening it.

The cool air hit his face as his feet found the first stair; he
slowly walked down on the street before he rose his eyes to meet the
figure in front of him. His black clothes were free of any snow and
his dark coat was lifted by the low blowing wind. His head was titled
to the right as if he was curious – his eyes never left Nero as
the young hunter slowly walked forwards until he stood right in front
of the man.

His black hair was dancing in the wind as strains of it fell into his
eyes, covering them.

Nero starred at him. He couldn't see his face, but he didn't had to
to knew what was happening. “This is about Yamato, isn't it.”
It was a statement.

No answer.

He
took another step. His eyes traveled over the man like he was a map.
Something felt very different. He felt his power like heat rising
from his body. He wasn't human at all and suddenly it became all
clear to Nero.

“You
are the demon Hazel told me about. Not that scum at the mansion.”
He felt the power of the man in front of him collapsing over his body
like a wave and it brought him almost to the ground. His knees
quivered as he had a hard time to keep himself standing. The sudden
rise of power was almost overwhelming.

The stranger lifted his head a little, causing a black strain of hair
falling over the left side of his face and a low chuckle escaped his
lips.

“Yamato?
You still have that sword with you? How nostalgic.” He cleared
his throat. “I have to tell you, Vergil, that the dark lord
wasn't pleased as he heard that I'd lost his merchandise.” His
voice was like silk, smooth and deep, sending chills all over his
body. “So yes, I came to this rotten town, looking for it –
but the sword?” He scuffed. “I
never had any interest in it.”

He shook his head, one black patch covering his left eye while the
other, ever so green, starred at him. “I won't lose you a
second time.”

Nero almost chocked on his breath. “I'm not Vergil”, he
whispered the words, his human hand twitching as he searched for Red
Queen, but it was still lying at Devil May Cry's office. Goose bumps
spread over his arm, but he never felt the cold.

The man shifted his head ever so slightly, his mouth forming a small
'o'. “Get out of this boy. Let me talk to my slave.” He
sounded amused as his gaze was still as cold as ice. He turned again.

Nero gritted his teeth together. “I can't and even if I could I
won't. Get lost, buddy.” His human hand was trembling and he
wanted so sound confident, but his voice was at the break to
thremble.

“Ah,
now you amuse me. How cute.” He took one step forward until
Nero could feel his breath creeping over his face. He felt an icy
fist getting a hold of his heart as an image was forming inside his
head.

“Izrail.
That's your name”, Nero almost chocked on the words as the face
of the man flashed before his eyes, two pair of green eyes looking
down at him. He could taste something salty on his tongue and his
knees hurt like he was kneeling on rough ground.

“Ah,
now I see”, Izrail told him and reached with one hand after
him, brushing an almost white strain of hair out of his face. His
fingers left a burning track. “You're not yet in control of
this host, are you Vergil.”

Nero felt anger burning deep inside him and his fingers twitched as
he wanted to punch that smug grin out of his face. But he couldn't
move and he wondered if it was something that Vergil's soul did to
him. Izrail's fingers found his cheek as they wandered over his skin
to the back of his head, pulling him forward until their foreheads
met.

Out of
the corner of his eyes he saw how it had stopped to snow.

A hand
pressed against Nero's chest, traveling downwards over his flat
stomach, sharp nails digging into his soft flesh. “I would rip
your heart out”, Izrail breathed, “but then Vergil would
be dead and Mundus wouldn't be satisfied with that. He nearly killed
me the last time as he thought the Son of Sparda had died. Imagine
how thrilled I was as I found out he's still alive... somehow.
But nonetheless, I think Vergil owes me, don't you think?” He
pulled away slowly, pointing at his patch with his other hand, a grin
spreading over his lips, showing Nero his sharp teeth which didn't
look human at all.

But Nero didn't care as blood was rushing through his body, its sound
too loud in his ears as he could still hear Izrail's word. Images of
the past were flashing inside his head and a storm of memories and
lost thoughts overwhelmed him as the pieces of the puzzle got
together

You
thought you could escape?

He nearly killed me the last time as he thought the Son of Sparda had
died.

When
you thought your brother could kill me, you were just as foolish as
he was.

I have to tell you, Vergil, that the dark lord wasn't pleased as he
heard that I'd lost his merchandise.

You
will never
be free of me.

Let me talk to my slave.

A low, unworthy one like you hasn't earned enough respect to know,
less to speak my name …

“Mundus...”
Nero said, suddenly short of breath. His legs gave away and his knees
hit the ground hard as he fell. His gaze became empty as he starred
off into the space before him, forgetting about the man with the name
Izrail in front of him.

He got it all wrong together.

He suddenly knew it.

The beast back at Fortuna didn't want him to deliver the message to
Dante – it spoke about Vergil; the message was supposed for
Vergil. He remembered what he had heard about Dante's history, of
what his Holiness had preached so many times but he'd never paid too
much attention; how Sparda had killed Mundus and how the demon came
back to live and was killed by the offspring of the rebel Sparda.
Dante was the brother who had killed the demon – or at least
thought so and Vergil...

“Huh.”
Izrail tilted his head to his right as he didn't care. He
lifted his hand, brushing gently over his hair until one single
finger touched Nero at his temple. “You think you could let
Vergil know that I'm waiting when he wakes up?”

Nero gulped. “Fuck. You.” He didn't look at him as his
gaze found a streetlight in the far distance.

He smiled. “Oh, you know with Vergil it was always the other
way around.”

Nero finally found the strength to pull himself up, stumbling away
from him. He saw the snowflakes hanging in mid air around them,
hoovering at their places – it didn't stop snowing but instead
it seemed as somebody had stopped time itself.

“What
are you?”, he whispered, raising one eyebrow. Izrail tilted his
head and for a second Nero thought he looked sad, but the moment
vanished immediately.

He smiled, but it was empty. “I'm not your enemy, boy.”

He turned around, ready to walk away from him, but Nero reached for
his shoulder, his fingertips only brushing the black leather of his
coat.

“That it?”, Nero almost asked angry. “You came all
this way to get to Vergil and now you just leave? It doesn't make any
sense! At least end what you had begun! Fight me!”

He didn't
answer.

“You'll
try to kill me when we meet again, won't you?”, Nero tried it
again.

He
stopped within his tracks. He wouldn't turn.

“Such
anger.” He shook his head. “Yes, I would kill you. It
would be the least I could do for you, but his dark Lord has not such
plans with you. You are no match for me, boy. I could overpower you
in no time and I would if it would be the right time, but it's not.”
Izrail looked over his shoulder, a glimpse of green starred at him.
“I could take you back with me and bring you to his dark Lord.
He would torture you for days, weeks, even years. You're human side
is strong and as a human, you couldn't stand such treatment. You
would lose your mind, lose yourself within it.”

Nero
thought he could hear him smile.

“I
actually feel a little sorry for you – well, it just proves
what a jerk Vergil can be to drag just a boy into this.” He
turned his head to look at him, his visible eye starring at him and
his face looked like a mask made out of ice. “In the end Mundus
is the one who pulls all the strings.” Izrail paused. “Huh...
I can see why he'd picked you. He must have known that you're a
fighter.”

He turned around and walked away, his boots leaving a trail on the
fresh fallen snow.

“Wait!
What do you mean?” But he didn't hear and Nero wasn't desperate
enough to run after him.

As he turned around a building, a light breeze caught one of Nero's
blonde strains, whirling them around and snow started to fall again.
He couldn't feel the pressure of his power any longer – he was
gone.

He starred at the palm of his hand, watching snowflakes melting
within the warmth.

He wondered if he would live to see spring again.

xxx

He woke up by the smell of fresh coffee. As he lifted his body from
the red leather couch he reached for a white shirt that he had thrown
carelessly on the ground the evening before, pulling it over his head
quickly, followed by his pants. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes
as he walked into the kitchen and was greeted with a rather
disturbing sight.

A man was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a cup of hot
steaming coffee in one of his hands, wearing nothing but a black
boxer, the ankle of his right leg resting on the knee of his left
one, looking up at Nero while wearing a bride smile. “Morning”,
he greeted him and his dark and husky voice washed over his body. He
reached for the pot of coffee behind him. “Want some?”

Nero just starred at him, blinking for a few times as he asked
himself if he was still asleep. He looked at the handsome features of
his face. His black hair was just as long as his and his bangs fell
into blue eyes. His body was lean and firm in just the right places.
His gaze persisted a second too long on his well formed abs before
his eyes traced the line of his bicep before they stopped at his
perfectly formed lips.

The man cleared his throat, taking Nero back into reality. He blinked
and starred back at the coffee. “Uhm, yeah....”, he said
slowly, taking the pot out of his hands and grabbed another cup to
pour the brown liquid in it, before bringing it up to his lips. It
actually tasted wonderful.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, putting the cup next to him
before crossing his arms in front of his chest, suddenly realizing
that his demonic arm was in full sight and the man didn't even
flinch, didn't even stare at it. “Sooo....”, he started
and stretched the word in an uncomfortable manner.

A noise from the stairs outside the kitchen caught both their
attention and four pair of eyes found Dante entering, his hair still
messy from the past night, wearing only an old pair of black jeans
that hung too low on his hips, unbuttoned and unzipped, revealing a
fine line of pale hair. They both watched as he headed for the
fridge, opening the door. They heard him searching for something,
before he shut the door with a budge of his hip. He hold a slice of
pizza in his right hand, ready to take a bite as he finally noticed
the two man in the kitchen.

The stranger stood up, walking over to Dante and took the slice of
pizza, putting it aside, before he grabbed the hunters neck and
claimed is lips in a heated kiss. His left hand traveled over Dante's
chest all the way down to his open pants and Nero almost thought the
hand would disappear withhin Dante's pant, but instead his fingers
found the buttons and closed it.

“Fuck”,
Nero breathed, almost speechless as he watched how the stranger
pulled away, leaving a thin string of saliva between them. One of his
hands found the hunters ass, squeezing it firmly.

“Uhm,
do you mind?” he asked both of them as Dante took a hold of the
man's hips with both of his hands, gliding them up over his well
muscled back.

The man pulled away completely from Dante, looking back at Nero. “Why
didn't you tell me about him?” He eyed the boy as he talked to
Dante. “We could have had fun with him.”

But Dante shook his head. “Don't even think about it.”

Nero starred at him with an open mouth, before he rushed forward and
grabbed Dante by his shoulders, dragging him with him back to the
office.

“Whoa,
what's the matter with you!”, Dante protested as Nero finally
stopped.

“So
this it what you've been doing last night? I can't believe you!”

The older one smirked. “What, jealous?”

Nero threw his hands in the air. “What? Hell no!” His
voice cracked. “Is this really happening? You're fucking the
next best guy while I'm sitting here thinking about how you might try
to kill me?” He starred at him. “What's the matter with
you?”, he asked him quietly.

“If
I really wanted to kill you, you would be already dead.” He
didn't look away, but instead took one step closer, pushing Nero back
against the next wall. He shook his head. “No, kid, I'm not
going to kill you. There's no need to worry.”

“And
what about him?” He nodded to the kitchen.

Dante smiled. “Well, I usually don't share...”

“Asshole!
You know exactly what I mean.”

“Don't
worry. He's just a One-Night-Stand – I'm surprised he's still
here though. Disappoints me a little, to be honest.” He
stretched his back and Nero calmed down.

“Something
happened last night while you were gone fucking around, Dante.”
Nero's voice was a low whisper.

“You
found your first pubic hair?”

Nero ignored the insult and swallowed a reply as he remembered the
last events. “You know someone by the name Izrail?”

“Like
the angel?”

“What?”

Dante barked a short laugh. “Just thought it could have
something to do with the angel.”

Nero just blinked at him, confused. “Uhm, come again?”

Dante's laugh died and he looked shocked at Nero. In a theatrical
gesture he reached with one hand for his chest. “Oh, don't tell
me you never heard of him? Weren't you raised in a city religious as
hell?”

Nero rose both eyebrows. Did Dante realize how some of his sentence
never made any sense?

“Should
I?”, he asked, erasing quickly the thought.

“He's
also known as Azrael. Izrail is just another name for him.”

“He
didn't look like an angel.”, Nero murmured as heat rose up to
his cheeks.

Dante took a seat on his coach, putting his bare feet on the table.
He spread his arms over the backrest and threw his head back. “What
did he want?”

“Well,
he just wanted to talk to Vergil, I, uhm, guess.” He watched
how Dante closed his eyes so he continued. “He realized that
I'm not him, but it seems that he's working for another guy. But
Dante, he was the demon Hazel told us about. It was never the old man
at the mansion.”

Both of Dante's eyebrows rose. “Really? Why do these things
keep happening when I'm not around?”, he asked him, not caring
to open his eyes.

“Yeah...” Nero scratched the back of his head, not sure
how he should continue. After all he messed up – bad. It wasn't
an easy task for him. “You know that message I should deliver
to you?”

“Oh, about all the crap of Vergil not able to kill someone?”

Nero felt his left eye twitch. “Yes , something about that.
It... it wasn't for you.”

Dante's eyes popped open. “How do you mean?”

“It was for Vergil, Dante. And it was Mundus. That guy, Izrail,
he's one of Mundus servants.”

“When you thought your brother could kill me, you were just as
foolish as he was.”, Dante repeated the words. “It makes
sense. I killed Mundus years ago.” It seemed as if Dante were
lost within his own memories as his gaze became empty. “So now
he's after Vergil, mh?” He pulled himself away from the grip of
the past. He looked at Nero. “And he just visited you? What did
he want? Talk with Vergil about good old times?”

“I think he was disappointed that Vergil hasn't yet take
control over me. I kind of think that he needs Vergil fully awake.”
The young hunter frowned. “I'd like to see a connection between
Mundus and the one who want's Yamato but I can't think of any.”

“So he doesn't want the sword, huh?” Nero nodded.

“And never wanted it. Mundu's after Vergil, not Yamato.”

He saw how Dante bit one of his lips as he seemed to be buried in
deep thoughts. “You know what the question is now, Nero. Hazel
told us he would be at the old mansion and if that Izrail guy is
really the one demon she was talking about than I wonder why he
didn't show himself back there.”

“Don't you forget something? What about the one who wants to
claim Yamato?”

Dante gave him a small smile. “Easy there. You can't fight the
whole world, kid.”

With a load crack the front door of Devil May Cry swung open and with
a blow of snow an elegant pair of slim legs entered the office
followed by the upper body of a younf woman. Nero's eyes caught dark
short hair covered under a thick layer of snow as she entered.

Dante rolled his eyes at her. “Oh come on now, do you have to
make an entrance like that Lady?”

She rested on of her hands on her slim hip before she took of her
coat that revealed her hardly clothed body. She wore a very short
pants and black tights that clung to her legs like second skin. The
high leather boots almost reached her knees and the white tank top
stood in hard contrast to all the black. Dark red gauntlets covered
her arms and reached over her hands. A heavy loaded weapon belt hung
on her hips, looking as it was almost to big for her to wear. She
gave both of them a bright smile.

“You would like that, wouldn't you Dante? I have a thing for a
dramatic entrance just like you.” She turned to face Nero. “Now
you would be Nero. So the rumors are true after all.”

He heard how Dante took a deep breath. “Come on, spill it
woman. Why are you hear?”

Before she could answer, a muffled cough caught their attention.
Three heads turned around to look at the door to the kitchen.

Oh,
right...

Nero had almost forgot about Dante's One-Night-Stand. He looked
obviously uncomfortable and Nero was wondering if it was because of
the Lady – he certainly wasn't that shy just a few minutes ago.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could the woman
drew one of her weapons and aimed for his head.

“Fuck, Dante!”, she cursed under her breath and Nero
immediately took one step back, not sure about of what was happening.
“What the hell is he doing here?”

She was about to pull the trigger, but Dante took one step forward,
reaching with his right hand for her arm, pointing the gun away from
the man until the woman let her arm drop. “”No need to
worry, Lady. He won't hurt you, right?” Dante grinned at the
man. “Unless you want him to...”

“Shut it!”, the woman hissed at Dante, still not letting
the man out of her gaze. “You should know better, I suppose.
Did you sleep with him? Ah, Dante, no!” She grimaced as the
picture formed in her head.

Before anyone could say more, Nero stepped forward, looking at all
three of them.

“What the fuck is going on here?”, he asked them quietly.

Dante smiled at him and it seemed that the feature of the Lady's face
softened as well. The stranger hid his smile behind his right hand as
he leaned against the doorframe.

“Park your ass on the couch kid, this is gonna be one hell of a
story.”
- 6
- 7
- 8
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