Author's Note: Inspired by the Three Days Grace song Broken Glass. I don't really know where this came from but here ya go.
Disclaimer- Ivory Tears does not own Devil May Cry nor does she profit from this work of fiction.
Warnings! There is a major character death involved, so be forewarned.
Nero picked himself up off the floor. He coughed until his throat burned. Dust particles winked in the afternoon light. He looked around seeing the doors had been blown off with the explosion as well as all the windows being shattered. He heard someone walking across the floor, the glass cracking under foot.
Trish stumbled into view, minor scrapes and bruises dotting her peach colored complexion. She made her way to Nero, leaning heavily on him once she arrived at his side.
"You okay?" he grated out, coughing as soon as he spoke.
She nodded her head, eyes taking in the state of the shop.
"Dante!" she called out, voice sounding rusty and dry.
"Back here!" his voice floated in the air, low and deep, from behind the old, wooden desk.
Nero helped Trish hobble over to the desk, surprisingly still in one piece. Trish sighed as she could rest her weight on its wooden surface. Nero gave a quick glance at her leg and bit back a gasp. A piece of wood had wedged itself in the meat of her thigh, piercing the skin and muscle.
"Shit, Trish, do you need me to pull that out?" Nero turned his concerned gaze to her face.
"Please. I don't think I can," she murmured, eyes downcast.
Nero gripped the debris with his devil bringer, "I'm going to count to three, okay?"
"One," he yanked the chunk of wood from her leg as she gave a low hiss of pain.
"Alright?" he tossed the bloody piece away.
"Yes," the tightness around her eyes the only giveaway to her displeasure.
The two finally looked to where Dante lay slumped against the desk. He sat cradling Lady's body, both covered in blood.
"Dante, what hap—" Trish cut herself off and dropped down beside them, mindless of her previous injury.
"No," she whispered, wiping back the dark bangs clinging to Lady's forehead.
The heterochromia eyes gazed unblinking at the ceiling.
"It's all my fault," Dante whispered, voice broken and uneven, "if I hadn't..."
"It's okay, Dante," Trish wrapped an arm around Dante's shoulders as they began to shake.
Nero stood there uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot, feeling like an intruder on such an intimate scene.
Trish tried to soothe Dante, but to no avail.
"All we are are empty shells," his ragged voice filled the silence, words seeming to echo around the room.
He clasped Lady's unmoving body to his chest as Trish and Nero could only look on.
Please don't kill me! I love Lady, but she would be the one to die before anyone else. It's true and it still sucks. :P
So review, please?