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English
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Published:
2019-07-29
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891
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1/1
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Hear You Me

Summary:

Nero doesn't really understand why Credo and Kyrie bother with him, but it's not that complicated.

Written for DMC Gen Week

Notes:

I kind of just wanted to write something sappy and do a warm-up in 3rd person since I don't write it much. I just love the Fortuna kids a lot, okay.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“'No, Credo, I don’t need a partner,'” he hissed through gritted teeth. “'I’ll be fine on my own. They’d just get in the way.'”

The heavy form slumped over his shoulders gave a weary hum of acknowledgment. “I wasn’t wrong, though. They would have been in the way.”

“They would have kept you from almost ending up gutted.”

“Nah.”

Credo took a sharp breath to bark that Nero was just being a stubborn idiot as always, but instead of any words, a sigh left him. They’d already had this argument enough times. Even with the blood pooling from Nero’s thigh and staining both their white uniforms a glossy red, Nero would never change his mind. 

Nero’s brow furrowed against the fabric at Credo’s shoulder as silence settled between them. Credo stopping in the middle of one of his lectures was never a good sign. That meant he was thinking things over, and he was bound to get all moody if Nero put an end to that immediately.

“You know I’m fine, right? I could probably walk on my own if you didn’t just pick me up without asking. And it’s not like I don’t heal up quick, so this is nothing really.”

When Credo spoke again, all the anger was gone from his voice, replaced with a deep weariness. “Please don’t walk on wounds like this. You’ll just wind up bleeding out. I’ve got to retrain you on field medicine. Tourniquets are vital knowledge. If I hadn’t shown up-”

“I would have been fine .”

“Maybe. Maybe this time. But you have to be more careful. If something were to happen to you, Kyrie and I would…”

The arms holding Nero up tightened around his legs. His wound burned in protest, but Nero felt he deserved it at that moment. 

The rest of the walk was silent. Credo probably got too much time to think because of it, but Nero couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. His own thoughts kept tearing through his head like a scream. He was a burden to them, a problem. He always had been. Even when he tried to fight alone and not bother anyone else with his existence, he just caused more trouble for them. 

The medics gave him some crutches after they stitched him up. In any other case, he would have left them beside the bed and limped home. The pain was just punishment for his dumb mistakes. He always healed up, so he needed something to remind him not to fuck up again. 

This time, though, he had to keep the crutches. Credo hadn’t moved from his side and remained there as they started back toward the house. Nero knew better than to try walking out without the crutches with his captain’s watchful stare on him. 

“Don’t they still need you back at headquarters?” Nero muttered, watching his feet as they swung under him with each step. “You’re never off this early.” 

Early wasn’t really the right word, Nero thought, considering the setting sun ahead of them.

“They can do without me for today. Paperwork is never much of an emergency.”

Nero swallowed. He felt like the demon’s claws had caught his chest instead of his leg, and his breaths came with effort. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

Eyes wide, Nero jerked his chin up to look toward Credo, but Credo kept his eyes on the road ahead of him even as they both stopped. Nero couldn’t read anything in his expression. “It’s not like you to give an apology to me, so I’m not sure how to respond,” Credo said. “I’ve already forgiven you. I always will. Your heart is always in the right place, even if your head isn’t.”

When Credo looked to him with a smile, Nero had to drop his gaze back to his feet. “I don’t mean to cause you trouble,” he mumbled. He could never understand why they kept him around or bothered with him at all when that was all he did, time after time. No matter his mistakes, they forgave him, and they made sure he came back home, even if they would have been better off without him there. It didn't make any sense.

The soft weight of Credo’s hand settled atop his head. “I know you always mean well,” Credo said. “But Sparda help us, you’re just a magnet for trouble.”

Lips thinned, Nero glared up from behind his bangs as Credo chuckled. “Don’t give me that look. You know I’m right. Now we better get home so Kyrie can lecture the both of us.” 

“Ugh, you don’t think she’ll go easy on me since I’m injured?”

“Has she ever?”

“Come on, I’m pitiful! Crutches and all!”

“If you can actually get that act to work on her, it’ll be a first.”

“You don’t have to be right all the time.”

Credo breathed another laugh and started off down the street again. “It’s a curse of mine, I’m afraid. So quit stalling. Let’s get our punishment over with so we can have dinner.”

Nero trailed after his captain with rhythmic taps of his crutches along the pavement and wondered why his chest could possibly feel warm at the thought that Credo and Kyrie both cared enough to scold him when he messed up. 

He was probably just annoyed about it. 

Yeah, that had to be it.

Notes:

Nero, you dumb idiot.