#kid nero

The past week had been just as delightful as the previous few, with learning more things about both Nero and V and cementing your understanding of specific likes and habits they each held during certain times of the day.

V almost always was ready for a nap by one, though sometimes he fought it for no longer than half an hour before he was falling asleep where he stood. He preferred sweet snacks over savory, and most times it was fruit he wanted over candies and ice cream. When he needed quiet time, he enjoyed reading books he could understand and liked to color and draw.

Nero had a habit of getting himself stuck in something at least twice during each of your watchful shifts. He was definitely more on the messy side when it came to food and play, but he was always helpful in cleaning up his messes. No snack was safe from his voracious appetite, and it seemed he enjoyed savory snacks over sweet ones, though certainly wouldn't turn down a scoop of double-chocolate fudge with sprinkles, if you offered.

When together, Nero tended to lead in play, always ready for an adventure of his own making. V enjoyed playing along, but he also preferred to be an avid listener, always marveling at Nero’s made-up stories and sometimes giving his own ideas to help along the narrative.

Each moment felt rather precious to you, watching how they interacted, how they adapted to each other seamlessly, even during small tiffs and heated debates. Growing up together gave them ample time to learn how the other worked, and gentle guidance from their fathers helped them understand how to handle any differences they had, and it was truly a sight to behold.

If anyone were to ask, however, your favorite time with the boys was bedtime, though not because they were being put to sleep. It was the act itself, the readying cycle of bath-time, jammies, stuffies, and books that brought a sense of peace to your mind. It was watching the boys settle for the night, swiping at sleepy eyes and hiding long yawns to keep you reading their favorite stories. It was the pull of your heart each time at seeing just how peaceful they were in sleep, how quickly you had come to the realization that you would do anything and everything in your power to keep them both happy and safe for as long as you could.

You enjoyed your time with them so immensely that it hardly ever felt like you were getting paid to watch over them. Babysitting Nero and V wasn’t just a job, it was another part of your daily life, a part that had integrated so soundly within your schedule.

It was unfortunate, then, that your time with them was coming to its end.

Granted, you hadn't even noticed that your one month trial was up, nor did it seem as if Dante or Vergil had, either. You’d been given two extra days without anything said about parting ways, and it wasn't until after you had said your goodbyes that final evening with a “Call you up soon!” from Dante that you really noticed the date.

Was it a sign, then, that you were there to stay? Maybe they had decided you were a valuable asset, after all, and planned to keep you around! It was a promising thought, one that put a little bounce in your step on the way home and kept a smile on your face until you fell asleep, awaiting the inevitable call for your services the next day.

—

The next day, your phone stayed silent.

The following day, there was no call.

The day after that, nothing

By day four, you started believing the extra two days past your one-month agreement were just a fluke, a lapse in time-management and not realizing your impromptu employment was up. By day five, you began coming to terms with the fact that you were no longer needed, and that…that really hurt in a way you hadn't known it would. 

What was it you expected, really? Dante had only been able to guarantee you a month, and you were lucky to be considered for the position, in the first place, considering neither Dante or Vergil had advocated for having a babysitter.

The job itself had been nothing short of a miracle, on your part, and now…

And now…

Your heart felt heavy as you thought about the boys. They had gotten comfortable with you so quickly, had given you their trust and patience and love just as much as you had given them your everything. It had been only a month, yes, but being their babysitter, having them in your life after the devastation of-

Your hand immediately gripped at the pendant around your neck, an attempt to ground yourself outside the wreck of your whirling emotions.

Did they know you were just a temporary fixture in their lives?

Did they know you weren't coming back?

Day five was really doing a number on you, enough so that you had called Naomi to vent and have a cry. She was outraged on your behalf for a short moment, though most of the call was her listening and comforting your woes, assuring you that things would work out and to have a little faith in not only the world, but in yourself.

Naomi was always the light you needed in dark times, and after the call, you felt much less upset, a little more numb, and just overall exhausted. Sleep came to you easily, but your dreams felt melancholy with wants of what you no longer had.

Waking up on day six of no call from your now previous employers still had you upset, but you felt more resolute with your next plan of action. Your bills weren't gonna pay themselves, and while you were lucky to have just enough for another month of rent, you barely had much more for food and utilities. The local paper had a few job listings to look at, and after a few calls to places that seemed hopeful but lacklustre, you had secured a couple of same-day interviews.

With a little more vigor in your step, you quickly showered, dressed, and downed some juice before grabbing your tote bag and keys. Just shy of reaching the door knob, you hesitated, reaching into your pants pocket to retrieve your phone to look at the front screen.

No new messages or missed calls.

Part of you wondered if you should just swallow your anxieties and give Dante a ring, see if what you thought was actually true or if they just hadn't needed you since the last time. Part of you didn't want to go through that disappointment, feeling that six days with nothing was as sure a sign as any.

Despite the new hole in your heart, it was time to move on, however much you really didn't want to.

Walking out the door felt like dragging your feet through sand, and try as you might, you couldn't shake away the thoughts of how much you missed what you had hoped would become a more permanent fixture in your life.

—

Your luck was really turning around, it seemed.

The first interview, though a bit short, had gone rather well, though there were definitely others waiting outside the main office for the same outcome as you. It was the second interview that made you feel much more confident, and the manager had already taken a shine to your personality. It was enough that you were given an apron with the company’s logo sewn into the fabric and asked to be back tomorrow for a trial run to see how you got on with everyone else.

It wasn't something you were super excited to work, but it was at least a job that would definitely pay your bills and put food on the table. You wouldn't necessarily make enough to save up much, but if you continued looking, maybe you could find a second job that could work with your newly acquired hours, or even a better paying job down the road that would keep you from being dead on your feet, or maybe-

All thoughts came to a quick pause as you rounded the final flight of stairs leading to your apartment on the third floor. Your body had been on autopilot since leaving your new potential job, mind too busy doing some rough calculations and future-related pondering to register much outside of the well-practiced steps that led you home.

You blinked once, twice, before the feeling of dread hit you like a freight train.

The door to your apartment was wide open.

Immediately, you began going back through your morning, recalling every move you made before leaving.

You grabbed your tote bag, checked for your wallet, grabbed your keys and your phone. You stopped at the door, checked your phone one more time before opening the door and shutting it, shifting your keys in your hand and locking the door…

Your phone was in your hand before you could even register you were moving, but as you flipped it open and made to call the police, the screen flashed and froze in place, refusing to dial out. Smacking it against your palm did nothing to fix the issue, and restarting it meant having to wait for the old thing to boot up properly.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, pocketing the useless device and steeling yourself while slowly climbing the last few steps that immediately led into the short hallway lined with other apartments, yours being right across from the stairwell.

From what you could see, nothing looked like it was out of place. Your small couch was in the right spot, the boxy television and VCR hadn't been taken from the tiny table you used as the entertainment center, and your meager valuables that you had on display hadn't so much as been disturbed. Everything was just as you left it, save for the door. It was a relatively good sign, but one you were more than wary of.

The smart thing to do would have been to go to one of your neighbors, knock on their door and ask for help. What you chose to do, instead, was slowly make your way into your apartment as quietly as possible, intent on finding a weapon and reaching the landline phone that was weirdly placed in the kitchen.

Each step you took was slow and calculated, eyes darting around to ensure nothing shifted as you traversed the short space between front door and kitchen. As luck would have it, you had a rolling pin set up on display beside the stove, only lightly used - a perfect weapon, should you need it. You reached for it, carefully extracting the heavy wooden utensil from the display pegs it rested on, wincing as one of the pegs just barely lifted and tapped against the faux marble countertop, just loud enough for you to hear.

Two, three, five seconds went by, and you let out a long, quiet breath you hadn't realized you’d been holding. Armed and feeling a little more secure, all you needed to do was reach for the landline phone hanging on the opposite wall, call the police, and make your way back out to avoid any possible danger that still lurked about.

As soon as you reached out, however, your shoulder was grabbed without so much as a sound of warning. Immediately, your fight-or-flight kicked in, and you were twisting and swinging the rolling pin with intent before you could even scream out. Contact was made, but it was because your assailant had caught your weapon mid-swing as your other arm was being grabbed to contain you.

Fear clouded your mind in that split second, enough that you froze and stared up at who you assumed would be your murderer soon enough.

Familiar, dazzling baby blues stared back at you, in turn.

“Jeez, babe, can’t say I've had a rolling pin to the face before, but you sure came close to being the first.”

“D-Dante?”

You honestly couldn't believe your eyes, for a moment. Of all the possibilities that raced through your mind since finding your apartment broken into, having Dante smiling down at you devilishly as he carefully disarmed you was not one of them.

“What…wh-why are you here? What’s going on?”

“Perhaps you could tell us,” was spoken from behind Dante, who stepped back and slightly to the side to reveal his brother standing just outside the kitchen, hand resting at the hilt of his katana and looking every bit as intimidating as he’d always been since coming to know him.

Virgil had come, too?!

“I don’t understand,” you rushed out, utterly perplexed, hands coming up to your head as if it pained you to think. As it was, your heart was beating a mile a minute, adrenaline still spiked and anxiety through the roof.

“Are you here because I was robbed? Or, well, not robbed, but someone broke into my home!”

“That would be me,” Dante said within a sigh, and you were sure your eyes had grown to the size of saucers.

“You?”

“We knocked, first,” he assured as he tossed your decorative rolling pin from hand to hand, “but when you didn't answer, we took a few liberties to get in. Had to make sure you were alright, and all. The boys were worried, too, ya know.”

The fear inside you was quickly morphing into that of confusion and disbelief.

That morning, you had made peace with knowing you wouldn't be seeing either one of the demon hunters or their sons ever again, and yet both Dante and Vergil were there, standing before you and admitting they had broken into your apartment under the assumption that…that you were hurt? That something was wrong in some way?

“I don’t…what do you mean by that?” you giggled out nervously. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

It was their turn to look confused, silvered brows rising as if you had grown a second head.

“You’ve not answered our calls,” Vergil spoke up, stepping just a bit closer. “We’ve contacted you no less than five times. When you did not answer the call to your landline this morning, actions were taken to find you.”

You looked over at the landline phone, an unassuming pale blue with an aged, springy cord, no voicemail box attached, no screen to show the missed call that must have happened after you left for your interviews. Your cellphone, though more advanced, was no better, and you were damning the smaller pieces of junk in your pants pocket that felt more like a brick than anything useful.

“I left this morning,” you began rambling, pacing the old kitchen tiles as you tried collecting your thoughts, “because I hadn’t…I needed to find a job to pay rent!”

“How much do you pay for this place, anyway?” Dante mused, unimpressed as he looked around your small, meager abode.

“And it worked last night,” you continued, almost ranting. “I called Naomi and cried about, ugh, but there were no missed calls! I checked every day for nearly a week! I thought…my month was up, so I thought…”

I thought you didn't need me anymore.

Now that you were saying it aloud in front of them, you found it hard to finish saying what you had assumed to be true. If anything, you were beginning to feel embarrassed with how attached you had gotten in such a short amount of time. Maybe Naomi had been right to worry about you; maybe you had become too emotionally involved, and it was causing you to crash out.

Maybe it felt like losing him all over again, and the realization was nearly paralyzing, enough so that you couldn't find the will to reach for your pendant for comfort.

“My m-month was up, so I thought this was your way of letting me go.”

The brothers looked at each other, their confusion nearly as palpable as your own.

“That would have been a shit way to tell you you're fired,” was Dante’s immediate outward response.

“It wouldn't have been the first time it's happened to me,” you admitted, desolate, arms crossing in front of you in a self-contained embrace. “I thought, maybe, you’d both be more forward with telling me, but it's been six days with nothing. It’s never been longer than a day or two. And this whole time, my stupid phone was to blame.”

“Probably about time you fixed that problem, don't you think?” Dante all but smirked, looking much more amused about the misfortune that was your life. If you were on the outside looking in, it probably would have been a little comical. In the moment, you barely felt put together.

You scoffed at his cheeky reply, feeling a little bitter about the stupidity of it all.

“Need a decent job to get that kind of money saved up to do it.”

“Well, it's a good thing you have one.”

“Do I?”

You hadn't meant for your question to sound nearly despondent, but it was hard to believe that, after all this fuss and effort, you were still wanted by them to babysit their sons. It hadn’t been the first call you had missed before, and with your luck, it wouldn't be the last until you could find a way to either fix your phone or buy a new one.

As you were in that moment, you were unreliable, which meant you weren't a good fit for when they needed you, which could have been at any time.

The brothers shared another look, one amused, one confirming.

“No complaints from me. Verg?”

Your gaze landed on that of intense icy blues staring you down.

“Though I was defiant in the need for a babysitter, I cannot deny that V and Nero have been thoroughly taken care of under your watchful eye. We have also been given opportunities for more cases, more difficult ones, because of you. I see no reason to end your tenure so quickly when we all benefit accordingly.”

“Great, then it's settled,” Dante said with an enthusiastic clap of his hand against the rolling pin he still held on to. “Besides, I doubt the boys would let us off the hook if we just fired you without a good reason. Luckily for everyone, a faulty phone is the least offensive charge.”

The room grew quiet as you took in everything, processing what they were saying through molasses. As their words caught up to your brain, your chest tightened, and the hot prickle of tears began at the corners of your eyes at the realization that everything wasn’t as broken as it seemed.

“I’m still…? When…when do you need me?”

“Tonight, if you can swing it,” Dante answered, finally relenting his hold on the rolling pin and placing it on its pegs, “though I’m seriously considering showing you how to use a gun, sometime soon. Rolling pin’s a decent choice of defense, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not gonna do much against a demon attack.”

You gave a guffaw of a laugh, half amused and half attempting to keep yourself from letting out all your emotions in front of the duo. The adrenaline was wearing off fast, leaving you emotionally compromised and in need of a space to cry without judgement. Not that you thought they would judge you, just…it would be weird having a full on breakdown in front of your bosses.

“I can do that,” you assured, sniffling while wiping at one of your eyes. “I’ll just need a minute to, ah, grab a couple things, get changed, I guess?”

“Sure thing,” Dante replied assuredly, “but first things first.”

He stepped closer, much closer than you had expected, and placed a hand against your upper arm, thumb swiping over your exposed skin once in a comforting gesture. The motion was rather grounding and brought you a sense of ease you hadn’t felt in days.

“You’re good?” he asked with searching eyes, looking you over for a quick moment before settling his gaze on your own.

You pressed your lips into a thin line while taking a breath in and letting it out slowly, nodding your head as you answered.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good. We’ll meet you outside.”

Dante stepped away and turned to follow his brother, who had already made to leave. You almost felt silly for missing the warm contact of his hand, not nearly as silly for the whole situation you had found yourself in.

Your luck was really turning around, indeed.

“Oh, by the way!”

Looking towards the door, you saw Dante lingering against the frame, looking over the latch before giving a cheeky grin.

“Gonna have to get the landlord out to fix that deadbolt. Some crazy guy kicked in the door and broke it.”

With a wink that could only be dastardly mischievous, he turned and continued his merry way down the stairwell and out of site, leaving you to handle your personal business before you joined them.