Author's Note: It has been ages since I have posted anything, so I hope this will be well received lol. I wrote this a couple of years ago, and thought it an apt time to post since spooky times are upon us. ;)

Disclaimer: Ivory Tears does not own Devil May Cry, nor does she profit from this work of fiction.


"It's your life, kid," the red clad man shrugged.

"You're inviting chaos."

Nero sneered at him, "I don't need some condescending prick telling me about the righteous high road."

The man laughed, "I don't think anyone has ever accused me of that. Just trying to save you some pain," his face darkened, "I use to harbor that chaos… a long time ago."

"Fuck off then old timer," Nero snapped.

A dark haired woman materialized beside the older man, "Dante, we need to go. Trish is Calling."

The man, Dante, grinned at her, "About damn time."

He turned back to Nero, "Just remember to watch yourself. You don't know who you're seeking."

The two strangers melded into the shadows and disappeared from Nero's senses.

"Who the fuck does he think he is?" he muttered aloud.

"Why I believe he is called Dante, little one," a dark voice spoke behind him.

Whirling around, Nero's blue eyes met nothing except the abandoned alleyway filled with refuse and garbage bins.

"Listen, Dante, if this is your idea of a joke it's lame as shit."

A dark form appeared next to him and before Nero could turn, the man had a tight grip around his neck preventing him from moving; he could only gaze out into the alley.

"You had best mind your manners, little one. Dante may take attitude from a whelp centuries younger than he, but I do not tolerate such nonsense."

Nero snarled in anger, "Fuck you! I could still kick your ass in a fight!"

The figure tightened his grip, "You came looking for me. Speak your piece."

Confusion plagued Nero's thoughts, "What?"

He stumbled as he lost his balance when the man let go of him. Turning he could make out the silver hair, blue coat, and kitana that plagued his thoughts.

The man smirked, "Were you expecting something different, whelp?"

Nero glared at him, "You killed my family.. Kyrie," his hands tightened into fists, "I'm here to end you."

The man's smirk widened, "I didn't kill anyone; I believe you have me mistaken for someone else."

"Liar! You killed her! The only person I had left," Nero shouted at him, his blood boiling as the rage clouded his senses.

"You let your hate blind you. You only remember what placates your conscience. I will admit I witnessed her destruction, but not by my hands," his incisors lengthened as a maniacal glint entered his ice blue eyes.

"It was glorious, my prodigy. You are magnificent in your blood lust."

"No," Nero backed away, "you're lying to me."

His maker laughed darkly, "You know in your heart the truth of that night."

Nero rushed at him, fists swinging but was thrown down onto the pavement as if he were a rag doll.

"You are no match for me, child. I will open your eyes to your transgressions," he knelt beside Nero, grasping his chin in a tight, painful grip.

"No," Nero ground out, trying to pull away but with no luck.

The silver haired man bit his own wrist forcing the bleeding wound onto Nero's pinched lips. He wrenched the younger one's head back causing him to cry out. He forced his wrist back onto Nero's open mouth, blood filling the empty cavity.

Nero groaned in anguish as the sweet taste filled his senses. He gradually quit fighting and hungrily drank from the offered arm.

Images flashed through his mind. Of that night. Of his turning. Of his… attacking Kyrie in a fit of rage and need. Of his drinking from her and killing her in the process. Of his maker, relishing in his ruthlessness. Of Vergil taking him apart and putting him back together into something he could no longer discern as himself.

Nero pulled away, sluggish from the power and the pull of Vergil's blood.

"Please no more, I-"

"Drink," Vergil guided Nero back to his wrist, "you are weak and I shall not have a weak foundling."

He drank greedily. He could feel the latent power in this ancients blood; more images flooded his mind, of his maker and the stranger Dante. All indiscernible.

"Enough," his maker pulled him away.

Nero heard himself whine as his tongue greedily lapped at the closing wound on Vergil's wrist.

"You still sorely tempt me," his maker growled, bringing Nero's face near his own.

Nero came back to himself, flushing in embarrassment. He jerked away from the man in front of him.

"It's your fault even if Kyrie did die by my own hands," Nero spat out.

Tears began to well up in his eyes, "You made me kill my own sister, you fuck."

Nero lunged at him, but Vergil morphed away appearing behind him. He grabbed Nero's hair, twisting his head to the side stilling his movements.

"Your soul beckoned to me…Tempting me. How was I not to resist? Besides," Vergil chuckled in his ear, eliciting goosebumps.

"You returned my advances, little Nero. How you begged and pleaded underneath me so prettily."


"That is not what you called me that night," Vergil mocked, "I sated your appetite and in turn you sated mine. I would say that is a fair exchange, correct?"

"This isn't what I wanted," Nero bit out, "I didn't know what you were. I didn't know!"

"And that is why I still take such delight in your anguish," Vergil let him go, dusting off his coat.

"Dawn approaches. As you have found out, it's deadly to our kind," Vergil gave him a once over, "I'm almost surprised you have lived so long with no guidance since you shunned me and made out on your own."

Nero felt a sliver of pride creep into his chest before he squashed it.

"Even an idiot knows the basics of being a vampire," Nero crossed his arms.

Vergil raised his eyes to the lightening sky, "You still live, thereby I would have to agree to that logic. Come, we must leave."

"I'm not going with you."

Vergil gave him a sardonic smile, "I was not asking."

In a shower of blue light, the pair disappeared leaving behind the burgeoning dawn.


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