"Listen, dead weight."

Send “🏥” to visit my muse in the hospital. //Accepting

  The air tasted sterile, cold, as cerulean hues flickered open.  The shrill beep of the heart monitor could be heard amidst the fog as the youth tried his hardest to identify his surroundings.  Where was he?  There was very little he remembered before waking up in this white void of a room.  Taking a moment to stare at the pristine, white, ceiling, Nero lulled his head to the side to examine his surroundings.

  It was a hospital room. 

  Just how long had he been out?  The memories were fleeting, a whirlwind of images and sounds that made no coherent sense.  The last thing he remembered was Vergil’s face and Dante reaching out to him.  Then blinding, almost, insufferable pain.  Had he almost died?  Lashes flickered and he lulled his head languidly again to the side, watching the heart monitor taking his vitals. 

  Closing his eyes again as pain resonated through his head, he heard the door open to his room.  Lashes flickered open as he met a familiar gaze, those icy hues accompanied by argent tresses, not a single hair out of place as they were combed back.  A small, weak, smile formed on his lips as surprise overtook him.  Of all the people to visit, who would worry over him, he was here. 

  The memories were still fuzzy, a haze as he tried to recall what had led to him being hospitalized.  The only things he could remember was Vergil calling out to him, telling him he was foolish.  Dante frantically calling his name.  If he felt better he’d laugh, they should have known better, that he was too stubborn to die.  There was still too much he had to do. 

“Fa...---” he murmured, trying his hardest to speak.  “...ther?”

At first, Dante didn’t say anything; the frown on his face stayed where it was, and his nostrils flared minutely. Then he sank back with a huff, and lightly crossed his arms over his chest. He was about to comment on the letter, but thought better of it when Nero broke eye contact to grab a seat of his own.

Dante let out something of a sigh at Nero’s next comment, and tilted his head to the side, a somewhat wistful smile pulling on the corners of his lips.

“Well if there’s not gonna be hand-holding, then what’s the point?” he said, unable to stop himself. That was probably not the way to go, but with Nero, Dante found that words tended to just happen.

With a noisy inhale, he shifted on his seat, and then leaned forward with the just as noisy exhale. Might as well cut to the chase.

“Listen, were you in a coma?”

  Watching Dante get comfortable, he couldn’t help but crack a small smile at Dante’s quip back at him.  That was the Dante he knew, serious, but not so much so that he couldn’t at least provide a witty comeback.  Shaking his head, his smile faded from his lips at the inquiry, expression turning to that of concern and confusion a he contemplated Dante’s words. 

“Well,” he paused, unsure why this was brought up so suddenly.  “Yeah, when my Devil Bringer was ripped off my arm, I kinda lost consciousness.”

  In reality, Nero hadn’t known how much time had passed until he returned home from the initial failed attempt at stopping Urizen.  In fact, he didn’t even have time to contemplate the fact he had been in a coma up until that point.  It almost felt surreal, in a way. 

“When I woke up, V was hovering over me saying you would need my help with Urizen,” he shrugged, lowering his head.  “I... Didn’t really know how long I was out for.  But hey, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

  Though, Nero was sure Kyrie would have called to tell Dante, or at least Nico...  Wouldn’t they?  Its not like he truly thought bringing it up was a big deal.  Though, it seemed to matter a great deal to Dante at the very least, perhaps because he was his nephew.  In fact, now that he thought about it, he was lucky he survived his initial encounter with his father.  After all, his Devil Bringer was the source of all his demonic energy at the time. With that gone...

“So, you really didn’t know?” he dismissed those thoughts, quirking a brow as he looked to Dante.

He just about managed to keep himself from jumping in his seat.

“You got my what?” Dante’s brows pulled together to match Nero’s frown. “What are you doing here?”

  Nero merely rolled his eyes at Dante’s inquiry.  Was he being serious right now?  Though, his startled reaction was enough to place a small seed of concern within the younger hunter. 

“The letter?” he pulled out the small envelope, placing his other hand on his hip.  “You wanted me here for a reason?  Don’t tell me you forgot, it isn’t like coming here from Fortuna is a quick road trip.” 

  Though, he didn’t entirely mind, it wasn’t that far either.  Canting his head slightly to the side, he let out a sigh, coming closer before pulling up a wooden chair to sit down upon.  Straddling the seat, he rested his arms on the back rest, staring at Dante as he examined his features.