Work Text:
The wings cradled around his body were there just to protect something he couldn’t fathom could be so precious to him, after all it was in no plan of his to have a son, nor to have such a strong bond with the little nesting already.
On the rugged bed of a suburban apartment in Downtown Fortuna, Vergil sprawled on the bedsheets and made a nest of sorts according to his demonic instincts, unable to resist and fully understanding why they were in place. The small, fragile bundle of softness pressed against his chest was sleeping fondly near his father, from whom the child would have assured protection from their hunters.
Vergil laid on his side, curled up around the sleeping form of his kin placed atop two of his wings, the other two gently draped around them both in some sort of defensive line from any possible threat; his tail’s scales were pressed close to the blueish demonic flesh as to not cause any harm from underneath the pillow it was beneath, providing support for the kid’s head. Nero, as the Dark Slayer decided to call the puffy white haired spark of his newfound joy, was the sole target of his admiration; he was wrapped up in the man's coat which provided all the warmth the child needed.
It had been a long day for them both. Vergil fought relentlessly and with great might as per usual against all the demons that went after his son and thought they could get away with it, all the while tending to him; Nero also had the chance to play a game with him, ‘keep your eyes close when the blade is drown’, his father called it and it was fun until his eyes had begun to hurt from all the eye shut he was doing, so he asked for a bit of rest and Vergil remembered about their current placement.
The sun was about to rise from its sleep as Vergil couldn't get a moment of much needed sleep though, unable to avert his gaze from his son and unable to bear the agonizing thought of leaving him unguarded and open to all possible threats. So he kept his eyes trained on the child, a careful finger moving out of its own volition to caress the soft, rosy cheek that belonged to no one but Nero. The second his soft voice asked for some bed time, he couldn't do anything but oblige Nero’s wishes.
At the touch, the kid seemed to start waking up, but his father was quick to find a remedy since it was still too early for his son to open his eyes. “Hush, little one. I'm by your side.” The words were more than a mere whisper but not enough to awaken the kid, for which Vergil was glad.
Yet, his own eyes weren't going to do what his mind decided given how slowly those tired eyelids of his began to close and with a tender, light arm securing his son to his own body, Vergil couldn't fight the tiredness of keeping such a strict watch over the kid. It had become too much after running and hiding away from demons that caught a scent of his son and went after him.
But in that small bed hidden from both worlds, where no one had ever bothered or found him not even once, Vergil let himself turn into slumber and quietly muttered a soft ‘good night’ to Nero before he was completely off.
It was around mid morning that the birds’ song from outside the window above the bed woke up the half devil, who hummed and stretched his limbs for good measure before eyeing the also waking form of his child. The nestling looked up at the man and smiled in that cheerful way of his that made Vergil’s heart ache all over.
“Good morning, Dad.” Nero quietly mumbled as he cleared his eyes from the residue of the night. Yawing, he instinctively moved closer to his father.
“Good morning to you too, Nero.” Vergil proudly responded with a tender finger stroking the kid’s cheek. He couldn’t get enough of how soft his skin felt under his rough fingertips; he hoped no harm could ever be done to him, but he knew the impossible could only remain as such.
The child whined happily and made grabby hands at his father’s face; Vergil knew Nero wanted to play with his hair as it had been his only playtime for the past months and he couldn’t find it in himself to deny the kid anything he could ever ask for. He lowered his head enough to be in his son’s reach and soon enough he felt two small fists grabbing white strands of hair, never pulling to hurt, just tugging to keep the man close.
Vergil kept his eyes trained on the nestling in front of him even if he had to contort his neck to do so, but he couldn't care less about it as his son’s eyes were filled with a tender spark of joy; it was a sight the half devil never thought he could witness himself, nor one he’d thought was in the cards for him. But that was all too good before Nero’s stomach made a hungry sound and Vergil knew it was time to feed his kid.
“Come on, little one. Let’s get you some milk and cookies.” The man spoke as he cradled the boy to his chest, standing from the bed and letting his wings and tail remain wrapped protectively around Nero as they walked to the kitchen. A small cup was soon fetched from the cabinets and when the milk was ready from the microwave Vergil tested the warmth on his wrist. It felt strangely mundane to do such a gesture while hearing the muffled, grumpy sounds of his son demanding his breakfast.
When the cup was set on the small kitchen aisle and Nero was on a bar stool high enough to allow him to reach for it, his lips were already around the rim as he chugged it down while Vergil found some cookies he had brought a while back that were still, fortunately, good. When the man placed them in front of his son on a small plate, Vergil allowed himself a moment more to admire the small creation in front of him; his coat was still on his shoulders, falling down to the floor and providing him some warmth, his form tiny and weak, yet with an underlying need to grow more, to push forward with grabby hands, with white hair and gray-blue eyes just like his own, which stared back at him when the cup was empty. The scene was enough to make a timid smile appear on Vergil’s lips.
Nero made grabby hands at him again once the cookies were gone and he wanted to be back in his father’s arms, which was a good enough compromise for the man to make some breakfast for himself, but Vergil’s senses caught something far in the distance; it was surely a great demon from the energy signature of it. He didn’t want to run any risks, so he wielded Yamato and held Nero closer to his chest, the lower set of wings purposely wrapped tightly around the child still wrapped in his coat as he thought where to open a portal to.
But Vergil had nowhere to go.
Nero began to grow more worried when his senses caught on the threat as well, but Vergil hushed him regardless of the presence. “No need to worry, Nero. No one will lay a hand on you for I’ll be there to protect you.” The man was highly amused when his son’s face twisted in a decryptable pout that meant ‘poetry even to a child?’ and that made a small, frustrating idea blossom in his mind.
Dante.
Looking at Nero for a second more, Yamato cut a portal through reality and her song hummed kindly to his son’s ears, a plea of protection coming off of her that embraced Vergil with just that bit of confidence he needed to pop up in his brother’s shop without a word and with a nestling in his arms. It would be an annoying meeting knowing his twin, but one that seemed only necessary.
A few steps into the portal and soon enough a soft tune could be heard as the portal closed behind Vergil while he stood in front of his brother’s desk in his shop. Dante’s eyes were wide open as they took in the sight of his lost twin with wings and tail out and something cradled close to his chest; by the scent of it, it was somehow familiar but the red twin didn’t dare to draw a conclusion from that fact only.
Vergil said nothing as Dante stood from his sleeping chair, boots clicking on the floor and knocking hard on the wood as he walked over to his twin, a sour expression on his face even though the glimpse of hope in his eyes was unmistakable for Vergil. His foolish, sentimental brother was about to give him an earful and he could do nothing but let it happen, holding his head high in waiting.
Dante crossed his arms with eyes focused on his brother, the words slipping past his lips were layered with a tone of humor but deep down some venom ran freely; he was pissed. “Could’ve knocked, y’know? Or send a postcard while you were away, it’d look good on the fridge.” He made a single step forward, eyes going down to the bundle in his twin’s arms; Vergil hugged his son close to his chest, eyes sending a warning to his brother out of instinct.
“I don’t want what you got there, drop the murderous scowl,” Dante pointed at the wrapped up coat of his brother, curiosity etched in his scent and core; Vergil could tell. The red twin remained silent for a moment, the anger in his muscles dissolving even though the blue twin had done nothing to deserve it, so he waited.
Dante soon met his expectations; his twin wasn’t the best to keep his mouth shut when his brain saw a puzzle to figure out. “Tell me, what did you do this time?” At the question, the air in the room picked up a few degrees and Vergil had yet another proof that his brother was pissed. How could he not when Vergil has been away for more than a decade, presumably dead and knowing his brother, he probably even felt guilty for it.
“I haven’t done anything of the kind you’re hinting at.” Vergil stood motionless, a cold radiating off of him despite the scent of warmth and safety Dante could so clearly scent on him. The red twin had his fair share of doubts about that answer, but he let it fall; his demonic instincts were screaming at him to placate his anger and for once, he felt inclined to listen.
He then just waved a hand dismissively, puffing out an annoyed but not quite defeated huff and sat on the couch, the sound of leather against leather falling not so kindly on someone’s ears.
Dante’s eyes shot back at his brother when he heard a small sniffle from the coat pressed to his chest, from where the familiar scent had been coming for the last few minutes; he still didn’t ask anything about it, feeling dread up his throat as his senses sharpened down on it and just waiting for his brother to tell him first, whatever it was. He would always wait for Vergil, had he not done so for years already?
When Vergil hushed what Dante could only guess was a small child, the red twin stood cautiously but with a grin spreading from ear to ear; the blue twin could smell the trouble that was approaching as the room’s temperature was back to its usual comfortable heat. “Who’s that?” Dante’s eyes were glued to the small peak of the child he got before his brother hid him again, for then considering his options and smoothing the coat away, just enough to let a boy’s face be on display for Dante to see.
“Nero, say hi to Dante. He’s your uncle.”
Dante’s mouth hung open, Vergil thought a fly had all the time to fly in it and choke his brother before a single joke of his could come out and hunt his son’s ears. The red twin said nothing though while Vergil unveiled the scared form of his kin, his nephew apparently, and lowered him to the ground, although the kid hid immediately behind his father’s legs as two wings covered his back; the rest of the blue twin’s Trigger dissolving in celestial sparkles.
“I promise, kiddo. I ain’t the one who brings mischief here.” Dante kneeled close enough to the kid, who looked up at his father and after receiving a soft hum and a nod, he came forward to investigate the new addiction to the family. Nero still held a fist full of his father’s leather pants to make sure he would not disappear the second he’d let go.
When Nero was close enough, Dante picked him up and bounced him on his hip, a warm smile on his face and a cheerful laugh already coming; the kid was just swept along the happiness coming from the man and his father didn’t react, so he just hugged the man and let him walk to the couch, where he sat with the kid on his knees.
Vergil took a few steps to be close by while Nero was just curious and happy at the same time to be handled by his uncle, bouncing on his leg and making him laugh out loud; the blue twin treasured the sound he hadn’t heard in a long time, a bare hint of a smile on his lips before Dante spoke to his son, but really, he was speaking to him.
“So Nero, what brought your dad back here?” Vergil should’ve seen it coming a mile away.
Using his son against him to get back at him should’ve been the first thing in the list of ‘things Dante would do with my son’ but Vergil hadn't thought the whole trip through that well. He decided to wait patiently for his son to answer, not giving in to the urge to punch Dante square in the face so that that smirk of his would be nowhere to be found.
However, Nero’s answer also wasn’t anything he expected. “Dad didn’t have breakfast.”
Dante made a contemplative sound that to a trained ear sounded just enough fake, while Vergil’s eyes widened just a bit, but his brother caught it regardless. “Then I’ll cook some for him while you wait here like a good kid, what you say kiddo?” Dante was already on the move when a soft hummed sound came from the kid’s mouth and he got Vergil's wrist in a tight grip and led him to the kitchen; that alone was enough for the wings to disappear too.
By the time Vergil looked behind himself to catch the sight of his son staring out the window above the couch, Dante had already begun preparing something for him to eat, but he didn’t let him go too far. Vergil could tell this was his twin’s version of ‘adult talk’ they had often seen Sparda and Eva doing when they were kids. Some things just become tradition.
The red twin turned on a small fire on the stove and fetched some ingredients from the fridge, which Vergil was surprised had anything in it to begin with, but he refrained himself from speaking a single word on the matter; he supposed that if he wanted this to work out for the best, he’d had to endure a few things first before getting what he came for.
After some minutes of quiet silence from the red twin, he finally spoke without setting a single eye on his brother. There was no need at all, his presence so close was enough to tell Dante everything he needed.
“So, breakfast and a hungry stomach are enough to make you come back?” Dante stirred some eggs in a hot pan and eyed Vergil through the curtains of white hair covering his vision; the blue twin looked at the cooking that was being made for him and let the answer fall from his lips without much resistance. He hadn’t gotten enough rest in the past seven months to manage to pull off his usual scowl and his stubbornness would not save him this time.
“We have been running from demons for the better part of a year,” but it wasn’t enough. Dante put some bacon in the pan as well and waited for something else to come, a watchful eye now on his brother to make sure he wouldn't disappear in a blink. Vergil noticed the careful attention from his twin and pondered quietly.
His eyes fell to his son, who had already lost his mother before he could even meet her, who had only his father and had just found out about his uncle. Vergil couldn’t allow for more to be taken away from his son; if he could give him a family, perhaps he should put aside some of his pride and tend to some family matters.
He didn’t lower his chin as he spoke, managing the calmest and most neutral tone he could get out of his hoarse throat. “Perhaps you’d like to look after your nephew for some time.”
Dante stopped moving the bacon to achieve the perfect crispiness he knew Vergil liked; a smile appeared on the red twin’s lips and resumed his cooking, nodding tenderly to his brother, knowing the blue twin could read the underlying ‘but you won’t get away with telling me some of it, to the very least’ argument he was hinting on.
The red twin was happy enough with knowing the new addiction to the Sparda line and even though he suspected this whole deal would be more for protection than for family bonding, he didn’t let the feeling hush the possibility that Vergil and Nero would stay. Actually stay there, in the Devil May Cry with him and make the place an actual home.
Vergil could feel the emotions of his twin and huffed while he went to sit at the kitchen aisle and after a moment of waiting, Dante’s homemade breakfast was before his eyes. The moment his twin was out of sight to talk with Nero, Vergil inhaled the food and felt the fatigue of more than half a year of running coming at him all at once.
He couldn't fight it this time. With his twin’s presence so close, knowing he was looking after his nestling and that he had accepted him as part of the family without wanting to steal the kid from him, being able to hear the soft muffling of Nero grinning from one of Dante’s poor jokes; it was all too reassuring on his overworked senses.
He let his eyes fall shut and leaned down on the aisle, knowing Dante would protect his nestling regardless of the way he arrived in his life. After all his brother was a sentimental fool and a kid could never not be the biggest bringer of emotions, especially if related to him by blood – even though he knew Dante always tried to hide it, the demonic instincts they both shared were nothing to go by.
The room fell silent around Vergil. He let sleep wrap itself around him.
When the red twin didn’t hear anything from the kitchen, not even some chewing, he went to check it out. “Gimme a sec kid, I gotta check on your dad.” The man stood and left the kid on the couch, his senses already pinpointing the small child to make sure he didn’t go too far, always knowing where he was.
He soon discovered the unusual sight of his brother out cold, snoring on the kitchen aisle; when Nero arrived by his side when his uncle didn’t come back in the time he had expected him to, the two looked at each other and back at Vergil.
“He’s gonna get cold if we don’t give him a blanket.” Nero reasoned by Dante’s side, a small hand resting on the man’s knee, “he always gives me his coat to stay warm.” He even added to push his point forward while looking around for his father’s coat, but the second he fetched it and brought it back, his uncle had beaten him in time.
The figure of his father’s sleeping form was cradled within his uncle’s arms, who smiled kindly. “Follow me, Nero.” He said softly and walked up the stairs to the second floor with the kid in tandem, the dark coat of his twin hugged tightly to his tiny frame; once in his room, Dante laid his brother on the bed, sat on it and motioned for the kid to come closer.
When Nero was in reach, he picked him up and sat him on the bed in front of him. “What now?” The kid asked curiously while his uncle brushed away some strand of wild hair from his forehead.
“We don’t want him to be cold, do we?” Dante prompted jokingly and Nero soon draped the heavy leather coat on his father’s frame.
Dante could tell Vergil was going to stay for family and not just plain advantage, he just needed some time. After all, Nero’s smile seemed to be a pretty good confirmation of it when he laid with his dad and forced his uncle to join.