Chapter Text
It was a quiet afternoon in the Devil May Cry Agency situated in Red Grave City. Well, as quiet as could be attributed to the generally noisy occupants, those consisting of the owner, their youngest hunter and the otherwise general clash of exuberant personalities that tended to grace the devil hunter's office.
The reason for its current quietness was that the majority of their hunters had left on a minor-major job of their own, depending on the mission.
The only ones left to fend the place were the owner and his twin, who took place on either the office desk and the couch near the window respectively.
It was also quiet due to the weather, a rainy pallet with cloudy skies and distant thunder, dampening any possible rising fury between them. They were the only ones there for only one reason: they were, frankly put, left behind.
After their return from -quite literally- Hell they were put under house rest - 'demonic healing be damned' - by their associates; they still felt exhaustion and pain like a normal person (thought their tolerance to it is vastly different) so the mental strain should be relieved before they went back to action.
The only reason they obliged was because they've been threatened and/ or blackmailed.
Trish and Lady had tackled Dante, with admittedly minimal resistance from the usually chronically lazy half-devil, while Nero had managed to put Vergil on even longer bedrest after the older had went for their promised rematch not even three hours after their return.
It shockingly ended with Nero's second win after he'd triggered and Vergil, mid-way through triggering himself, fainted from mental strain and energy exhaustion still prevalent from their stay in the lower realm, having had to deal with cutting the tree roots while fighting off demon horde after horde and the occasional bout with Dante.
Between all those and getting back, he was at a disadvantage personally. Still, Vergil pulled through on his promises the best he could, if only because of unrelenting pride.
The fact he at all challenged for the rematch in his poor condition was a testimony to his own tired mind's foolishness. Nero reveled in the face of his second victory, not for pride but the fact that it was a valid excuse to make the otherwise antisocial devil stay.
And fine, sure, pride too - he'll never forget how many tries it took to one-up Dante after meeting him the first time in Fortuna.
Though he had the decency not to gloat about it to the Devil's face this time.
Dante, on the other hand, had predictably no such inhibitions, antagonising his dear brother on his historically impactful, legendary poor decision-making skills all the while not letting up on the tales of how he'd always been deemed the reckless one between them as snot-nosed kids. Hah!
Anyway, they were lounging in the foyer, fully expecting the return of not only their nephew/ son, but also the girls that had accompanied him during their absence. The group had left early after breakfast to deal with something (Dante wasn't really one to listen and he hadn't taken that call--he doesn't even get up that early) that was reportedly a 2 hour drive away - Nico's skills included.
They'd left at 9am and, considering they should've arrived there by 12 at the latest, dealt with whatever required three seasoned demon hunters and maybe gone for some food on the way back (adding another 3-6h max), should come through the door any minute now.
.
.
.
It was about two hours later that they arrived and boi, Dante was both anxious, curious and relieved when a coppery and familiar ozone scent permeated the air.
Anxious because he hadn't even gotten a call from them on their extended absence and was worried something happened, curious as to why they were late and relieved to see them all--
He frowned; Now wait a him-be-damned second!
"Where's Nero?" Dante didn't see the mop of short white hair or a blue coat, heard not a peep of his brash voice arguing with Nico and, now that he's looking, picked up no trace of his demonic presence - even with how muffled and subdued it usually was, it pinged on his radar the way it did when Vergil hid his presence. The resemblance was just too uncanny sometimes, which seemed to increase with father and son in close proximity.
Seeing the way Vergil stiffened and looked over the rim of his precious book, casting his eyes and senses out before frowning even deeper affirmed the continued absence of the quarter-devil. The group was met with an icy -if not accusatory- glare, as if they were to blame for the missing teen.
Nico let out a tired groan of frustration, making a point of not looking at that icy blue gaze she knew from someone else. "Wish I knew."
Dante's faux-relaxed pose stiffened, muscles tensing and eyes gaining a new level of attention as he appraised the mechanic, tone still light to keep the situation from escalating. Any more aggression would just trigger his brother faster. Double meaning intended.
"What does that mean? Kid's gone and got whisked off by his girlfriend?"
His attempt at a lighter atmosphere was shot down by Lady's annoyed huff: "We'd know in that case. And since you forgot, again: he was meant to stay overnight with you." She bit out, tense. Any of them going radio-silence was unnerving, Dante being the only exception you could be sure to come back from wherever he fucked off to. Nero, while she wasn't that close with him to know, at least maintained a policy to check in with Nico or Kyrie. Neither knew where he'd gone, so...
And as if that statement hadn't made Dante's smile falter then the she-devil's next claim made him officially concerned about his nephew's whereabouts, if not his condition.
"Kid got hit by a spell and knocked out; turns out a witch was involved. By the time we beat her he was gone, 'course we tried tracking him but the weather didn't leave for any tracks and it seems he flew off to who knows where while leaving his stuff behind."
"...you're saying you left him behind, injured and spelled, without any viable means of protection, alone in this storm?" Vergil's gaze seemed ready to perform several judgement cuts without needing the use of his reality-rendering blade. Trish shrugged in a crude imitation of human behaviour that had him wince, brushing off the threat.
"I mean, considerin' ya guys' heritage he'll heal and shake whatever got him soon enough. Then we jus' gotta pick 'im up when he calls for us. The guy's bound to have some change for a phone booth leftover." Nico piped up, not denying Vergil's assessment while also revealing their reason for having done so.
Dante sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling old. Impossible tired.
His voice sure sounded the bit. "You do know his healing ain't anywhere near as good as mine or Verge's right? Even Trish. How long do you think it will take him to wash out whatever spell got to him from his system?"
Their silence was answer enough.
Nico sighed, worried yet determined as she broke the heavy atmosphere that wasn't made by the rain. He's gotta hand it to her, she's got nerves of steel.
"Look, we'll wait till tomorrow noon and if we don't get a peep or sign of life from 'im we'll all search, that sound good for you? I don't like leavin' 'im behind either but were in no state to go after him much longer after searching an hour for him with no results."
Dante looked perplexed but agreed to the suggestion, knowing that the girls were too tired to try again and his own sense of smell couldn't really do shit in this weather.
Off to the side Vergil closed his book, picking himself off the couch and made his way upstairs, leaving behind a faint smell of burnt ozone.
I know, Dante's thoughts echoed after him. I'm worried too.
Nero had so far, to his knowledge at least, no experience in dealing with witches, nevermind their spells (sans maybe Trish's work) and now he was down for the count cause of one nasty. At least he knows any sort of binding or contract wouldn't have been able to stick after the witch was killed, so he counts that as a win.
Now he just needed to hope they could find him before Kyrie called tomorrow evening cause Nero didn't come back.
He wasn't all too fond of explaining that to her.
-------
Golden eyes peered open in darkness, taking in their blurred surroundings. Blinking a few times, their vision cleared up and a small cave greeted them.
Small and not man-made or by nature, cause the entire interior had scratch marks on the walls, proof that something had once burrowed its way into the stone and made this small hideout.
With growing clarity, it realized that the creature had been itself. The memories were out of focus but it recalled the sense of danger it felt around a couple of humans, all female judging by scent. Also that they either smelled of magic or gunpowder and it had no other option than to flee in it's wounded state. Thankfully it's wings had been intact and useful in it's escape, otherwise he might've been discovered.
--Summary: Nero was hit by a combination spell meant to burn and confuse. The hit had caused just that, but also brought forth his demon as he'd triggered in order to fight the witch. After that the human mind took a backseat and demon toddler/ juvenile instincts remained to fend for it's survival. Considering his weakened state, the worsening weather and no means of defense he'd fled and made himself scarce in the backside of a near mountainside, opposite of the open field they found the witch in conducting blood rituals.
Later Vergil and Dante find traces of demons in the surroundings, likely hunting for food, as well as the few small drops of blood the rain hadn't managed to wash away and make indistinguishable from the soil. And Nero was just human enough that his blood doesn't evaporate the way it does for a good chunk of theirs, so his trail can be picked up as and now by kin of Sparda.
From the fight to where he'd been hit was the strongest, some of it had soaked into the earth and discolored the ground. Afterwards they resort to patrolling the vicinity for his presence, utilising any trail they could find... The shreds of clothing were helpful, but not quite as reassuring.
~
Nero is having a wrestling match with all sorts of lesser and some middle class demons, mostly hellhounds who'd made their home in the mine on the other side of the mountain.
A territorial dispute, and the signs of it aren't lost to either Vergil or Trish, the demon behaviour experts. They follow the trail, discovering the mine first as it faced towards their starting point before making their way inwards, interrogating and killing with the resident demons.
A good dozen of which have Nero's scent and blood on them.
Vergil's demon had pushed through its trigger and made gory work of them, angered over the added injury to its kin.
Though they went back out shortly afterwards, realising after a comment from Dante that Nero's scent doesn't get any stronger down the mine shafts.
They continue their search around the mountain, finding more evidence of another demon type, until Lady called them back to a small alcove in the mountainside.
She spotted it from her vantage point on a taller tree with her vizor, as well as the scratch marks all around the hole.
Vergil was there in a flash, using the Yamato to breach the distance down to nothing and was hit with fearscaredhurt, the scent of his Nestling strong within it as well as some decorum of ash, perhaps attempts at making food out of him from other demons remains.
"He's nearby, the scent is fresh."
-
Nero's mind was screaming at him, sensing not only stronger devils invading his territory but the return of the previous huntresses. They were after him, he was sure of it.
Where was his sire?
Was he abandoned? Why-??
What wrong did he do to deserve this?!
A small, weak, vulnerable whine escaped him as iridescent white-blue wings curled around his lithe frame, further hiding himself in the lower treetops as he noticed one of the new predators was in clear sight of the sky and had found his cave.
He was running as far away from them as he could under the foliage, limbs protesting at the speed he pushed them.
Splitting the air before him, something fell right in his path with a flourishing gust of air that pushed him back a good five meters into the surrounding foliage; hitting the tree bark with a heavy thump.
On the other side of him was one of the stronger devils, a sword in their grasp as their dark blue wings were proudly unfurled on their back, pulsating with power.
Nero hissed and growled, albeit a little meek and subdued at the sheer magnitude of power the being before him posessed, his hackles raising in acknowledgement of the threat he was facing.
"Nero?" came a strange voice in an un-familiar-not language.
His face scrunched up as the devil continued to idly float above the ground, blocking his path. He went to turn back but the other devil, crimson yet resembling the one now behind him, blocked that way too, brandishing their own sword at their side. It wasn't he'd to think they were kin to each other.
He was boxed in. Defenseless.
Dead Prey but yet still standing.
A pitiful whine that may have been a plea for his life left his throat.
Evidently that was a confusing thing to do as the devil in front of him tilted it's head. He felt their gaze trailing over his form, lingering on the side of his chest with the burn - he doesn't recall where he got it from, perhaps one of the women from the day prior left it - and the scratch and bite marks littering his leathery skin every odd inch or so.
(Admittedly, his quest for food left him with more weakness than it compensated him for.)
"You okay kid? It's just us."
The red devil spoke in what sounded like the same tongue the other one had used, disarming and friendly.
He didn't trust it (i'mherehelp); he shook his head. Nero was torn between them, positioning his body sideways so as not to have his back open to either of them. A quiet, yet stronger and more resilient growl that he was very proud of reverberated in his chest-- he wouldn't go down without a fight.
"Dante."
His opponents head tilted up, over Nero's head, yet his attention didn't leave him.
"Switch to abyssal tongue."
Confused at the request-order Dante obliged, even if he was severely out of practice and knowledge over the finer details and phrases. Still, basic is best in his books. Hence a low hum met Nero's ears and it showed in the way that it made him perk up, his head whipping to Dante after the use of human speech.
~Kid, you hear me?~
~Stay back!~ Nero spit rage and brimstone as his translucent azure wings rose upwards in an attempt to make himself appear bigger, more intimidating against the larger devil.
It only served to remind Dante of a hissy, puffed-up kitten. A confused one too, and he shares the sentiment on many levels - cause, sure, he annoys the kid a lot to get that reaction - but Nero never told him to stay away (pardon their first meeting & those first few days after they came back) and he certainly never used or showed signs of either learning or knowing Abyssal since he knew the firecracker.
Vergil's head tilted, face pinched as he let out something Dante could only liken to a sharp whistle and huff.
The boy's head scrunched up as his face lifted, wings tilting in confusionsireblood?
A sigh left Vergil's mouth as he addressed his twin, although Dante already had a pretty good guess as to what exactly was wrong with the kid now. "His human mind is indisposed."
"Maybe a sleep spell that only stuck with his human side?" Dante suggested, sounding considerate. He'd seen one of those in a book somewhere, maybe.
He usually sticks to magazines if he can help it. Even then he glanced at what was in it, shut it and took it home to shelf it; Better him than others.
As it stood they knew one thing: they were left with an alarmed demon nestling's instincts running wild all while he's been left unattended (by them) for apparently too long than was good for the little guy. (And that damage from a couple riffraff?? Nero would throw a fit when his brain was back on straight.)
Dante lifted his eyes to Vergil and if they were human right now Vergil swears on his father's name his brother was giving him a conniving grin. "We~ll, daddy better hop to it. Nestlings stressed y'know."
His speech had an underlying purr with it, communicating his amusement at the situation.
As if that wasn't bad enough Nero responded to Dante's purr with a confused chitter, nostrils flaring and, judging by the way his guard dropped and head swiveled around towards Vergil; he must've finally picked up on their blood relation.
All of a sudden the angry kitten was replaced by a whiny puppy.
Nero approached Vergil, him standing stock still as leathery skin touched his scaly waist.
It was a stretch, him being so large and floating, that Nero was essentially smushing his face against his calf, whining.
And yet a deep rumble emitted from his chest, satisfied at the close proximity. His tail moved to pick up the smaller devil, lifting it off the muddy ground and closer to his front.
The instant he was within reach arms wrapped around his neck and a soft purr left Nero. A plea, not for his life but for attention.
"Awww, look at you two.
So cute and cozy."
The moment was broken by his brother's annoying need for attention, Dante closing the distance between them.
If Vergil's tail wasn't occupied with a restless nestling he'd have slapped the other with it.
Dante placed a gentle finger between the index of Nero's wings, the smaller devil humming in the warmth as his wings were slightly pressed outwards. "He's a little cold." Dante noted and Vergil agreed - Nero was cold, injured and still hexed.
No, his devil barked at him, this would not do. Take him home, care for nestling.
(As if he hadn't been planning on it when he came. An incessant voice bearing resemblance to V's had been chiding him since only yesterday.)
He huffed, pressing Nero a little closer to himself, mindful of his wings and injuries, and out of Dante's reach whom all but huffed in slight mirth and vague disappointment.
Masterfully ignoring both the whine of his brother and the confused chitter from his young Vergil took flight towards the rest of the group, Dante not far behind him and, if the melodic whirr and whooshing air next to him was anything to go by, amusing the boy with tricks.
It was an admittedly good idea as it distracted Nero from their short trip until in direct vicinity of the others.
The moment they landed he felt Nero tense in his grasp, face burying against his chest as if in hiding.
Vergil briefly wondered how much Nero remembered from before their mission ended and what it associated the she-devil and hunter with.
Perhaps it's injuries, he mused.
"Oh good, you found-- what's up with him? Suddenly shy??"
Dante landed behind him, coming out of his SDT. "He's running off his devil instincts. Whatever hit him yesterday knocked every common sense Nero usually had out. In short: Demon instinct commands him.
I remember that happening to me once... ain't good if the kid's left alone. And he doesn't remember anything, so.." he loosely gestured behind him at Vergil who was unmistakeably still in his SDT.
Trish nodded, glancing at them. "So having the smell of direct blood kin and appearance of an older devil should calm him enough." She tilted her head at Dante, seeming semi-impressed with him. "Didn't know you had followed my words this well to remember about it."
Dante shrugged, rolling back his shoulder to stretch after the long search. "You know me-- I'm always full of surprises. Also, we should get the kid home and look for a reverse spell for whatever put him out of commission, unless you 2 want to try bonding some like this?" The last statement was directed at Vergil and Nero, who didn't seem to be letting go of each other anytime soon, or today at least.
—Goddamnit, he had to make that call to Kyrie, didn't he?