Chapter Text
Of the two of them, Vergil had always been the more patient one. From the moment the two of them had turned six, Vergil had developed his calm and rational persona. Refusing to acknowledge his emotions to anyone, including himself. Treating his emotions like a plague, something to be avoided at all costs.
Vergil claimed that by taking on this mindset, he would achieve impressive strength. That it would help him obtain his goal of becoming the perfect warrior, to help him focus on becoming stronger. Rather than just focusing on being a kid. Sure the two would still play together, but Vergil would not express his happiness as greatly, or as openly, as Dante would. Dante’s certain that it was just to keep people from mistaking Vergil for Dante, and vice versa.
Over time, what had started as a child trying to appear rational and calm, trying to seem mature to those around him, had transformed into an overall stoic nature. What had started as a way to not let his emotions overwhelm and overtake him, had turned into Vergil not wanting anyone to know what he was feeling. It had turned into Vergil always coming off as disinterested and unaffected by the events around him. Almost as though he was trying to distance himself from everyone who knew him.
When he had seen this change, Dante had been concerned that he would lose his brother. So concerned that he had gone to their mother for help, hoping that she would fix things. She had gone on to assure him that there was nothing for him to worry about, that nothing would ever come between the two of them, and that the two of them would always have each other. And he had believed her.
He had believed her right up until she had been killed by Mundus and their childhood had become shattered.
By the time the two saw each other for the first time following their mother’s death, that stoic nature had turned into a wall, a mask that no one could see behind. And in that moment it had been abundantly clear to Dante as to why. The mask was Vergil’s way to not only cope with their mother’s death, but as a way to defend himself from being hurt like that again. But it also had another feature, to help him in his quest gain enough power. That way no one would be able to take away anything from him again, or be able to stand in his way. Bastard had even gone as far as to throw himself into the Underworld in his quest for power.
Then years later, after the events of Mallet island, when he had discovered the truth about Nelo Angelo, he thought that he had lost his brother for good.
Then, in pure dramatic Vergil fashion, he had come back from the supposed dead. Along with summoning the Qliphoth, and being hell-bent on becoming King of the Underworld.
One thing he could say was that spending all that time as V, and then V and Urizen becoming one again, seemed to have had an improvement on Vergil’s emotions. Even if that improvement was only miniscule. The occasional genuine smiles, making sure Dante got a decent amount of sleep, always cooking enough for the two of them to eat even when he complained about Dante asking for food. Sure they were little things, but even those little things were clear to Dante, and made him happy to see.
But not even all those little changes could have prepared Dante for what he was currently seeing.
Vergil’s normal swept up hairstyle was unkempt and stuck out in multiple directions, a result from the numerous times Dante had witnessed Vergil harshly run his hand through his hair. The clothes that Vergil took a considerable amount of effort and time to look sharp and pristine, even while fighting, were now disheveled enough to a point that it looked like Vergil had been flattened by a giant cruise ship. Twice.
Muttering under his breath, Vergil paced back and forth across the floor in front of the couch. As he did, he used his thumb to push against the tsuba to remove the blade from the saya, and push it back in, repeating the motion in rapid succession. During all of this, he constantly shot glances at Nero, not even seeming to care that Dante could see him.
It was a sheer departure from how his brother normally acted. If the Vergil he met atop Temen-ni-gru could see his future self now he would probably commit supuku. Okay maybe not something that drastic, but he would still do something to show his displeasure. Like trying to skewer Dante as some form of retaliation. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.
As he watched Vergil shoot Nero the hundredth glance in the span of a minute, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh. It had only been about an hour since they had given Nero the cure, and Vergil had been in this manic state for the past thirty minutes. And in those past thirty minutes, Vergil had not spoken a single word to Dante, only muttering to himself as he paced back and forth across the floor.
Once the hour mark of Vergil’s pacing came about, Dante had decided that things had gone on for long enough.
“Would you stop with the pacing? If you keep it up I’m going to need new floorboards at this point.” Dante stated, already bracing himself for the stabbing that was to come.
But, to his surprise, nothing happened. No mirage blades, no Yamato, nor a Sin Devil Trigger transformation. Not even an arrogantly snide remark. Absolutely nothing. Well, nothing aside from Vergil continuing to pace about in his manic state. Dante wouldn’t be surprised if Vergil couldn’t even hear him while in that state. Too focused on Nero to care about anything or anyone else around him.
“Vergil?”
No response.
‘Just as I thought.’
With a quick crack of his neck, which had to be the twentieth time that night, Dante rose from his desk chair, striding over to where Vergil was pacing. Which Vergil did not seem to register in the slightest. Even when he reached the couch, Vergil continued to pace. Completely unaware that Dante was standing nearby and, if he had to guess, that Dante was still even in the room.
On the fifth return trip of Vergil’s pacing after he had reached the couch, Dante decided to bite the metaphorical bullet. Which he did by reaching out and placing his hand on Vergil’s shoulder when the man reached where he was standing.
From the second his hand made contact with Vergil’s shoulder, he felt the way Vergil went still, his entire body seeming to go on the defensive. Through his hand, Dante could also feel the thrum of his twin’s demonic energy, like the rocking of waves right before a major storm. In response, Dante felt his own inner-devil spark to attention, ready to strike if called upon.
“Vergil?” Dante prodded, making sure to keep his voice low.
Nothing. He just silently stood at attention, staring down at the unconscious Nero while a leather-gloved hand held Yamato in a grip that looked tight enough to break steel. With a stare cold enough to freeze over the entire Underworld. The perfect image of a warrior poised to strike at the nearest possible threat.
“Come on Verge, talk to me.” Dante implored, giving his twin’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
There was no verbal response, but Dante saw the way the muscles contracted around Vergil’s mouth, moving in response to Vergil clenching and unclenching his jaw. The man’s stubborn pride, and a daunting urge to speak, working against one another. Dante, for once, found himself unsure as to who would be crowned the winner
But just when he thought that pride had claimed victory, Vergil spoke. “He hasn’t woken up yet.”
Dante couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the obvious statement. “Um, yeah? The kid’s body is still recovering.” Which was most certainly the truth.
The plaster-like tint to Nero’s skin was still present, but the amount of places it could be seen on his body had diminished, relegated mostly to his abdomen and arms. The cracking and flakiness to the skin was fading, but was still a cause for concern. Nero’s breathing, while not as shallow as it was before, still sounded a bit erratic, and would likely take several hours to a day before it would go back to normal. On the plus side, it no longer sounded like the kid was a chain smoker about to take his last breath. A quick touch of the back of his hand to Nero’s forehead showed that body temperature was still rather high, but thankfully seemed to be on the decline. And despite them having changed his clothes, wiped him down, and wrapped the area of the abdomen where the puncture wounds were, Nero's body was still caked in sweat.
The cure was certainly doing its job, but Dante knew that it would take some time before the kid was back to his normal self. Vergil on the other hand, did not appear to have gotten the memo.
“Regardless, he still should have woken up by now.” Vergil retorted, displeasure written on his face.
‘Oh, for the love of-’ “It’s only been an hour, Verge. And given that he was on death’s door not too long ago, it makes sense that he is still conked out. You can’t expect the kid to already be awake and up on his feet.”
“Of course I can. Demonic blood, Sparda’s blood, flows through his veins. Our healing abilities far surpass those of any human.”
Dante sighed. “Look, I get it. You and I are able to heal pretty much anything thrown at us. But you even said it yourself earlier, had Nero been born a half-demon like us, the venom wouldn’t have affected him as badly, and the healing would be faster. Don’t forget there is a lot more human in him than there is demon.”
Vergil paused at this, appearing to actually be mulling over Dante’s words. Though the introspection didn’t seem to last for very long.
“Still no excuse.” Vergil replied, not looking Dante in the eye. The statement, Dante noted, was less arrogant than it normally would be. More in the realm of a child who couldn’t comprehend why something wasn’t going their way, than just being a condescending ass. Though the condescension was still there.
Following his statement, Vergil shrugged Dante’s hand off of his shoulder and went back to pacing in front of the couch.
Witnessing this, Dante had even more respect for their mother for having to deal with him and Vergil as kids. Watching Vergil pace it made him wonder. If she were still here, what would their mother do in this situation? She always seemed to know what to do back when they were children, so Dante had no doubts that she would have been able to easily solve any of the issues they were having.
This brought his mind back to when they were little, specifically to the moments when their mother had to deal with Dante and Vergil being stubborn and childish. Well, with Vergil being stubborn, and with Dante being childish. Though there were times where stubbornness and childish behavior would overlap, even if Vergil would deny it.
Whenever the two would act out, which was quite frequently, he remembered how she would have them step away from what was causing the issue, which was usually each other, and have them sit down. Whether that be to sit down to eat, or to take a nap, it didn’t matter. Just something to get them to stop focusing on the issue at hand, and to give their minds time to subconsciously sort through everything.
For Vergil, that something had been books. Plop a book in his hands and he would read the thing for hours on end with no interruptions. For Dante, there were a number of things - running around outside, eating food, practicing with a wooden sword, eating more food - the list had been endless.
However, given his current state, Dante doubted that Vergil would be able to focus on any reading. Which would have been an impressive feat, if it wasn’t for the present circumstances.
“Look, it’s still probably going to be several hours until he wakes up. Why don’t you sit down and eat something.”
“I do not require any nourishment. And someone should remain vigilant.”
Dante rolled his eyes.
“Vigilant for what? There is nothing for either of us to do while we let the cure do its thing. And your pacing and staring at him isn’t going to make the process go any faster.”
If the glare he sent Dante’s way was any indicator, it was obvious that Vergil would not be heeding Dante’s words.
“Since it’s just the two of us, unconscious Nero notwithstanding, I will be blunt. You look like shit. It’s clear that you are bothered by what has happened to Nero.”
“I’m not both-”
Dante held up his hand. “Nope. Don't wanna hear it. Now sit down and relax so you can get yourself under control.”
In the span of a second Dante felt the air in the room drop by several degrees, giving the room a severe chill.
“You dare lecture me on keeping emotions under control?” Vergil asked, the tone of his voice as chilled as the air around him.
“Considering I’m not the one looking like he is one second away from losing it, yeah, I am. So how about you lose the scowl and pop a squat.”
Vergil stopped his pacing, coming to stop in the middle of the floor. Staying silent as he kept his back to Dante. Dante couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose at the action. If Trish and Lady were here, the two of them would have mocked him for the action. They would probably even go on to say that maybe it was a sign that two were going to swap personalities or something. The irony that he was the one having to lecture Vergil about something was not lost on him.
“Look, on the slim chance that Nero does wake up soon, do you really want the kid to see you like this?” Dante said, gesturing at Vergil with his hand.
Out of everything that Dante had been saying to Vergil, of course this was what it took to get Vergil to finally see reason. Better late than never he supposed.
Silently, Vergil grabbed the back of the nearby chair, dragging the chair across the floor over towards Dante’s desk. There he parked the chair across from the desk , where he proceeded to sit down with a silent huff.
Grateful that Vergil was no longer facing him and could not see him, Dante let his shoulders slump, staying in this position for a few seconds while he let the relief of actually getting through to Vergil wash over him. After soaking in his relief for a few seconds Dante made his way back over to his desk, not wanting to keep Vergil waiting.
Dante plopped into his chair, kicking up his legs and propping them on top of his desk. “See? Now was that so hard?” Dante drawled, making sure to plaster a huge smile on his face.
Without missing a beat, Dante ducked his head to avoid the summoned mirage blades that Vergil sent his way, the blades impaling the chair’s backrest. The smile didn’t leave Dante’s face as he slid the still open pizza box on his desk towards Vergil, relishing in the sight of the unmasked disgust on Vergil’s face as he looked at the pizza. If anything, the sight only made Dante’s smile widen further.
A few seconds of silence tickled by before Dante felt the mirage blades impaled in his chair vanish, allowing him to rest his back on his chair without the threat of impaling himself. When Vergil didn’t immediately stab the pizza upon seeing it, Dante felt satisfied, counting that as a win. That satisfaction then turned into a state of genuine happiness as he watched Vergil’s shoulders drop in resignation, before reaching over to grab a slice of pizza.
“You will notify me of any changes.” Vergil stated, his tone and facial expression giving absolutely no room for debate.
“Yeah, yeah, I promise.” Dante stated as he began to usher Vergil up the stairs. “Now go take a shower and clean yourself up.” He sent Vergil off with a shove, where he once again had to duck to avoid being stabbed by summoned mirage blades.
“And make sure to get some rest!” Dante called out as Vergil reached the second floor.
Once Vergil was out of sight, and Dante was certain he was out of earshot, he immediately dropped the smile he had plastered on his face. He then reached up and started to run his hands through his hair, very reminiscent of what Vergil had done earlier, though not to the same extreme.
In all their years, which was a good many, Dante had never seen Vergil that worked up before. Sure, he had seen Vergil get frustrated when the two of them were in the Underworld. Had seen how off Vergil could be when the man had decided to forgo taking care of himself. Refusing to eat or sleep, and insisting on pushing himself to his absolute limit. Whether it was out of pride or just forgetfulness, Dante didn’t know. All he knew was that it had always resulted in Dante having to look out for his twin. To make sure that the idiot didn’t get himself, or the both of them, killed. Subtly, of course. Vergil would never have allowed Dante to openly worry about him. Would have tried to kill Dante if he had expressed such a thought.
Which is why Dante had found himself taken aback at the state Vergil had shown earlier. Though in the grand scheme of things, he really shouldn’t be all that surprised. Most parents would freak out if they found out that their child had been injected with venom and was turning to stone.
However, most parents weren’t his brother.
From all he had witnessed it was clear to him that Vergil was having a hard time coming to terms with everything. Nero being injected with venom, almost dying, and now with the slow recovery. Pretty much the whole situation.
Given that for the past several months Vergil has still been having a hard time grappling with the fact that he has a son, it made sense that he wouldn’t be able to handle the concept of anything potentially fatal happening to said son. With Nero possessing his own demonic healing factor, even if not as powerful as theirs, the thought that Nero might actually become fatally injured had most likely never crossed Vergil’s mind. Nor had he ever anticipated the thought of Nero’s healing factor not working, or not working fast enough for Vergil’s liking. Simply put, the scenario of the whole current situation had not once ever occurred to Vergil.
But what truly had Dante concerned was the effect the whole situation has had on his brother, producing a Vergil that Dante did not recognize. His usually calm and stoic brother was nowhere to be found, and a panicky and disordered vagabond had been left in his place. If he hadn’t intervened and forced the man to take a break, Dante was certain that Vergil would have passed out from exhaustion. Sure he wouldn’t have been happy had this occurred, but he wouldn’t have been surprised. Which is why he was grateful that things hadn’t come to that, and that he had been able to convince Vergil to take a break. At this point in his life, Dante would take the small victories.
With Vergil no longer in the room, Dante turned his attention towards the source of his brother’s current emotional state.
Just like he had noticed and told Vergil earlier, Nero was looking better. And seeing that improvement filled Dante with a sense of relief that he couldn’t properly put into words. Though it will take awhile for him to get back onto his feet, it was clear that the worst of the situation had passed, and that Nero was on the path to recovery.
This made Dante happy, because for a while there he had been afraid that Nero wouldn’t make it. When he had run into difficulty trying to defeat the serpent, there had been a part of him that had feared he wouldn’t be able to get what they needed to save his nephew. There had also been a part of him that had been scared that even if he did manage to get what they needed, that he would not be able to make it back in time. That he would be too late. Which had turned out to almost be the case.
The look of fear that had been displayed on his brother’s face when he had come through the door was something Dante knew would forever haunt him. Just like the thought of what could have happened had he been a few minutes late getting back to the office. Knowing that he almost could have lost another family member, that he could have been too late to help…it wasn’t something he ever wanted to go through again. So the fact that they had been able to make the cure and save Nero meant the world to him.
To both of them.
And now that he could take a break from watching his twin like a hawk, he could truly relax at the notion that everything was going to be okay. Grateful that he no longer had to worry about what would have happened to Vergil if Nero hadn’t made it, he could now be content with the knowledge that everyone was safe. Well, safe from any current harm in Nero’s instance. With their line of work, it was impossible for them to always be safe.
But fate had to allow them to be safe sometimes, right?
Dropping the hands from his hair, Dante swung his legs off his desk, rising from his chair in a fluid but tired motion. Walking around his desk he grabbed the back of the chair that Vergil had been sitting in earlier, dragging it behind him as he made his way over to the couch.
Parking the chair next to the couch, Dante took a seat. Already dreading the amount of hours he was going to spend sitting in this thing as he watched over Nero. He complained, but he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way. Having Nero directly within his line of sight made him lose some of the tension he had in his shoulders. Maybe it was because nothing else could happen to the kid while Dante watched over him, or that some of Vergil’s overall antsyness was rubbing off on him. Either way, he knew he would be able to relax just a little easier.
Feeling the mood strike him, Dante reached out and ruffled Nero's hair. However, he couldn’t help but feel just a little bit disheartened that Nero wasn’t awake to smack his hand away like he always did, cursing at him like a natural born sailor. Another small reminder of the wait ahead.
Sighing, Dante lifted his hand away. From there he reached down and patted the top of one of Nero’s hands. “Don’t take too long, kid.”