Chapter Text
Nero awoke to Dante’s smooth and inexplicably seductive voice in his ear. “Baby….we’re here.” His voice was slightly unenthused, as if a part of him wanted nothing more than for Nero to stay exactly as he was. He felt the man’s tired head lazily nestled in his hair. If not for Kyrie he may never have moved.
But as soon as he felt her gently stirring his eyes shot open and he carried her mostly lifeless body on his back. It was so easy to carry her now.
He instinctually reached to grab his bag of clothes, and Red Queen from the floor beside him. “Kid, you’re carrying a whole ass lady. I can take care of your luggage.”
After a brief pause Nero surrendered the bag and his weapon to Dante. But just because it was brief didn’t mean Dante didn’t notice it. He saw the way his nephew instantly relied on himself and only himself at any given opportunity. Gave him half a mind to march right back to Fortuna and beat whoever instilled that behavior into his baby until they looked like a train disaster.
Nero’s jaw was on the floor as they departed the ferry. He’d never seen anything like the big city. It was kind of disgusting but in a charming sort of way. This was real. Unlike Fortuna’s faux perfection that was propped up on the backs of suffering citizens, this place didn’t hide its flaws. Which to Nero was an instant improvement. Trash littered the streets, vagrants on every corner, and there was just about nothing about it that looked good. But that was sort of perfect in its own way.
Nero just sort of mindlessly followed Dante, and the cat just followed Nero. “Well, there’s a hospital not far from here, probably where I would go if I wasn’t so-“ he gestured to his entire body “Demonic? Obnoxious? Lecherous?” Nero chimed in. “I was gonna say perfect.” Dante deadpanned.
After several at least 10 too long seconds of Nero trying to think of a response, he sweetly responded in a too quiet tone “That too”
Dante’s heart nearly melted at the pretty young thing’s little amateurish attempt at flirting. He would’ve hugged and kissed and praised him to high heaven if not for the girl that was on both Nero’s back and death’s doorstep.
“Cute” he muttered under his breath. He only said it because it felt like if he didn’t say anything his heart would beat out of his chest.
He wondered for a second if Nero heard him, but when he turned around to see him bright red and bashful, he came to a pretty clear conclusion. The way he was so embarrassed and yet his eyes could only fixate on Dante. Watching every movement like an exceedingly obsessive hawk. It filled Dante with a pride he hadn’t really earned.
The hospital towered over most any building Nero had seen on Fortuna. It must’ve had at least 20 floors. It had a sleek modern-esque design that was nowhere to be seen on Fortuna. Buildings there were nearly all concrete and stone, but this hospital seemed to be mostly made up of steel, at least from the outside.
He was practically hiding behind Dante as they walked in. But he swore the front desk worker rolled her eyes the moment Dante walked in.
The whole admittance process was a blur. Nero didn’t understand a word of it, he just stood and carried Kyrie until the hospital staff transferred her to a room. Thank god Dante knew what to do.
“So…is she gonna be okay?” For the first time in forever Nero didn’t totally resign himself to the worst case scenario.
Dante gave him an unreadable expression, it seemed equal parts hopeless and hopeful. “She’s gonna be unconscious for a while, but she’ll most likely recover eventually.” Dante smirked a little “you’re lucky they owed me a favor, otherwise you might’ve been shit outta luck.”
“Th-Thank you…Dante” the shaky, apologetic tone Nero gave him made Dante immediately regret saying anything.
“Hey, Hey, don’t even think about it. This is a happy day, don’t sound so down, baby. You’re free, she’s free, and you’re both gonna be okay.” Dante laid a hand on his thigh and rubbed gentle circles onto his skin in an attempt to console him.
“Do you wanna go to your new home, or do you wanna stay with her for a bit longer?” Dante meant it as a genuine question but Nero read it as something else. The touching, the soft tone, the offer to go back to his place? They were all telltale signs he’d learned in the choir.
“We can go back to your place…”
Dante kissed his cheek and stood up “If that’s what you wanna do. C’mon baby.” Nero wordlessly followed, visibly anxious. Dante assumed he was just nervous about moving in. He couldn’t think of another reason for him to look so frightened.
Dante opted for walking home, so Nero could get a better understanding of the area when he inevitably went out alone every once in a while. Nero was a full grown adult and still Dante didn’t want him to ever be unguarded. The kid could defend himself, but that barely comforted him.
The stray kitten rejoined them as they walked. Exploring around a little along the way. “Smart cat.” Dante said, looking lovingly at the precious little snowball. Nero didn’t look up from the sidewalk that his eyes had been glued to since the moment they left the hospital.
“Here we are! Home sweet home!” Dante played up the friendliness to try and put Nero at ease. It didn’t work. Nero just marched inside, barely acknowledging the gaudy neon lights that read “Devil Never Cry”. He knew a Devil could cry, he had lived experience. The name annoyed him more than it really should have. It felt patronizing—As if a neon sign was capable of patronizing him.
He stood awkwardly next to the couch. “Make yourself at home, I’m gonna finally take a shower.” Dante’s tone was still trying to be infectiously upbeat
Nero mumbled an “okay” as Dante walked up the stairs. Closing the bathroom door behind him. Dante was honestly shocked there was any hot water for a shower.
The cat lingered on the doorstep, afraid of going inside. As if it hadn’t just followed them across an ocean.
Nero slowly climbed the stairs, trying to find Dante’s bedroom. Quickly discovering it was the door on the far left of the stairs. It was an absolute mess, beer bottles filled with stale alcohol littered every surface, dirty clothes covered the floor, there were dirty dishes and grease stained pizza boxes anywhere they would fit.
Nero decided to at least clean the room before Dante got out of the shower. He gathered the dishes into small piles he’d probably have to carry downstairs himself after they were done, and gathered the empty boxes and bottles to throw away immediately, because they were fucking disgusting.
The clothes were gathered into a pile after Nero realized the horrifying truth that Dante didn’t own a hamper. Cleaning cleared his mind a little. He’d just need to get this over with and maybe, just maybe, Dante would be all loving again when it was over.
He stripped at a torturous pace, sitting on the bed in a nervous panic. If this was what Dante wanted, he’d do it, without a second thought. He saved Nero’s life, freed him from Fortuna, and offered him a home. This was the least of what he owed him.
He left skin-deep cuts on his thigh with his human nails, they healed back immediately but he just reopened them every time. Only stopping when he heard the shower stop. He hoped they’d heal back before Dante could see them. Fortunately or unfortunately, they healed nicely in less than a second.
Dante’s footsteps sounded like the four horsemen’s approach. He knew it was coming and he knew he wanted to run but he also knew that if he did, Dante would abandon him and Kyrie.
And what was just one night of pain if it meant his sister got the care she needed?
He knew it wasn’t just one night. It was never just one night.
It took too long and not long enough for Dante to reach the door. Just long enough for Nero to torture and chastise himself for letting this happen, and then chastise himself again in reverse for being so entitled as to think that sex was too high a price for literally saving his life.
But on the other he still hated knowing this was the cost of his freedom. He was still the same kid from choir, just under new management. Better management, he supposed.
The way Dante’s footsteps made the floorboards creak with nearly every step made it oh so very clear just how close he was. Just how long Nero had before he needed to be gone. Dissociation was something he could nearly do on command but why now of all times was it failing him??
Dante’s wolf whistle as he swung open the door nearly brought Nero to an early grave. Before Nero could even say a word Dante had him on his back with his wrists above his head.
Nero knew what had to happen. He just focused his entire attention on the window and hoped eventually he’d be fine. He felt lips ghosting over his throat and heard Dante muttering something but it was all a blur to him.
Eventually it would end. He just needed to be patient. Like a good little songstress.