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Chapter Text

"Dad," Nero said as he approached with the wriggling bundle. "I'd like to you meet your granddaughter," he placed her in Vergil's arms. "Aria." 

She was so tiny. That was his first impression of her. Had Nero been this little once, too? It was difficult to imagine. He extended a finger and gently stroked her cheek. He'd wondered how much of Sparda's blood she'd inherited, how much of a demon she'd end up being. She certainly smelled mostly human, although the scent of him and Nero clung to her. Vergil closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. Up close, there was the slightest suggestion of her bloodline, the faintest scent of Sparda. Vergil sighed with relief. Hopefully, his granddaughter would be spared the magnet for danger that had graced the rest of them. 

Her hair was a vibrant red, like her mother's, but she had the bright blue eyes of her father.

"Oh, Nero," he whispered. "She's beautiful." 

His son grinned at him, "Isn't she?" 

She buried her little face into Vergil's shirt, nuzzling into his chest. 

"She's definitely gotten her mother's lungs, though," Nero chuckled. "She's calm now, but you should've seen her earlier. She's a little monster for sure." He settled down on one of the chairs behind him with a huff. 

"How is Kyrie?" Vergil asked. 

"She's okay. Just resting up right now. She's been pretty exhausted between all the late nights with the little one." 

Vergil hummed and shifted his grip on Aria. She slept deeply, her body still, aside from her little chest rising and falling. She'd do little else for at least the first few months, but it didn't matter. Vergil was entranced by her anyway. His little granddaughter. 

Nero stood up suddenly with a sigh of resignation. "Should probably get another bottle ready before she starts her banshee wailing again. She's an endless void, that one." 

Vergil snorted at that. That certainly sounded familiar. 

A few moments later, Nero returned with her bottle and plopped down next to his father on the couch. "Here. Wanna feed her?" 

Vergil took it wordlessly and pressed the rubber nipple to her lips. In a flash, Aria was awake and drinking hungrily. Nero leant against Vergil and closed his eyes. 

"Can you stay for a while? I, uh, missed you," Nero stuttered out. 

"Of course, Nero." 

"Thank you," he gave a relieved smile. 

Then, "I missed you too." Vergil looked up at him, his son, who had a child of his own now. "When did you get all grown up, hmm?" He murmured quietly to himself. 

"You know, I ask myself that same question every day," Nero smiled. 

"Hey!" Dante exclaimed loudly, making a characteristically obnoxious entry. "Where's my little niece, huh?" 

"Were you so starved for attention during that short ferry trip that you have to be so obstreperous now, brother?" Vergil sighed. 

"Yeah, yeah, missed you too, Verge." 

"It's good to see you, Dante. But if you wake Kyrie there will be blood," Nero said, appearing from their shared bedroom. 

"Hey, kiddo," he grinned, pulling Nero into a bear hug. "It's good to see you too. Been a while, huh?" 

"Yeah. Yeah it has," Nero mumbled contentedly. "As for Aria, you'll have to pry her from Vergil." 

"Shit, he's never been great at sharing." 

"Hey, language!" Nero scolded. 

Dante threw his head back and laughed. Man, the irony was way too sweet. Vergil was a tad hesitant to relinquish his granddaughter, but he handed her over without a fuss. Aria was a tiny little bundle of warmth in his arms and Dante pulled back the blanket to get a better look at her. 

"Shoot, she looks just like the kid did when he was a baby, doesn't she?" 

"If she starts crying, just hand her back to me," Nero said. "She's a fussy little thing, sometimes she'll cry just because I'm not holding her. " 

"Now that's familiar. Karma sucks!" 

"What?" Nero blinked at him. 

"You don't remember?" Dante asked, leaning his weight against the wall. " The amount of nights you'd refuse to listen to a word I said because your daddy was out on a job. You'd just sulk at me and refuse to go to bed until he came back." 

Nero flushed instantly and ducked his head. "Hey! I was, like, ten! Gimme a break." 

"Besides, Dante," Vergil smirked. "I seem to recall a few afternoons where you clung to my side like a limpet because Mother was out stocking up on groceries." 

It was just like him to throw his little brother under the bus to defend Nero! He couldn't stay mad, though, much as he tried. It was kind of sweet. Aria squirmed and gurgled in her sleep. Nero and Vergil's worried looks instantly snapped to her. Then, she returned to her happy snoring. 

"Well, I'm pretty sure I remember you crying for hours because mom got a little irritated with you. On more than one occasion," Dante bit back. 

"It's so hard to believe that I'm younger than you two squabbling idiots sometimes," Nero chided. 

Vergil looked suitably admonished, but Dante only smiled. "Hey, kid, you still got your necklace?" 

"The amulet thingy?" He asked, drawing it from underneath his clothes to show it off. "Yeah, why?" 

"You should try giving it to the lil' miss if she won't stop crying. Used to work with you." Dante instructed. 

"Yeah? Worth a try, I guess." 

"Oh, and speaking of which-" 

"Yup," Nero grimaced, hauling himself to his feet. " She needs a change. She's relentless, that one." He took Aria back and she gurgled. "Oh, you think that's funny, do you, huh?" He wiggled his fingers at her playfully and she reached out for them. "You're a little horror, you know that?" He continued his playful chatter to her as he carried her down the hall. 

Dante kicked his feet up against the coffee table and turned to Vergil. "So, old man, how's it feel to be a grandpa?" 

"You know, when I was your age, I had a lot more respect for my elders." 

"Shut up!" Dante shoved his shoulder. "You're only two minutes older!" 

"The best two minutes of my life, yes." 

"Pshh. You love me, you can't even deny it." 

Vergil didn't reply, which was answer enough. They weren't the most explicit with their affection, but they were damn good at reading between the lines. 

"Yeah? You too, old man," Dante expressed back. 

"Being a grandfather is ... Wonderful. I never thought I'd get the chance." 

"Hey, Lady," Nero greeted. He toyed anxiously with the phone cord, twirling it over his fingers. "How're things back at the shop?" He paced nervously, never one for staying still. "I just wanted to ask you something. It's okay if you say no. But uh," he turned and started at the papers stuck to his fridge. "Look, Kyrie's kinda religious and we were talking about how nice it would be if Aria had a godparent. I don't wanna ask Dante or my dad because you know those two, no matter who I chose, they'd fight about it. Yeah, I don't know how you deal with 'em either. I was just thinking, would you like to be her godmother? You don't have to do anything, just-" 

He grinned as he listened to her answer, "You'd love to? Yeah, thank god because I didn't really have any other options. No, that doesn't cheapen it, I'd still have chosen you either way. Yeah, take care of yourself. Bye, Lady." 

He spun around to find himself on the receiving end of Dante's puppy dog eyes, "You chose Lady over me?" He whined. 

All those years being on the receiving end of that look and it was still just as effective. 

"Of course he did. You're an irresponsible man-child," came Vergil's taunt. 

"Hey! At least I didn't start an apocalypse!" 

"You-" 

"Hey! Quit it, alright! Aria's sleeping. You'll wake her up." 

"The godfather post is still open, though, right?" Dante asked hopefully. 

"Nope, sorry, that's going to Credo." 

"Blast," murmured Vergil. 

"See? This is exactly why neither of you were picked," Nero snorted. 

Chapter Text

"Daddy!" Aria shrieked as she catapulted herself at Nero's legs. 

He turned back to look at her, leaving the door open and ushering his family in as he did so. "I was gone for five seconds, Ari," he sighed in mock exasperation. "You really miss me that much?" He scooped her up and leaned her against his hip. 

"Karma," Dante whispered to Vergil. 

"You're never gonna let that go, are ya?" Nero frowned. 

"Nope!" Dante exclaimed cheerily. "Anyways, how you been, kiddo?" 

"Tired," he answered. He began walking toward the couch and the two of them followed him. "This little one is a handful, aren't you?" Nero said playfully as he prodded at his daughter's side. 

She'd grown since they'd last seen her. It hadn't been too long since their last visit, but Aria seemed to age in the blink of an eye. Maybe it was just a baby thing. 

She giggled, then zeroed in on the guests. "Grandpa!" She squealed, holding out her arms expectantly to Vergil. His face softened exponentially as he took her. Then, she noticed Dante over his shoulder. "Guncle Da!" She shouted her nickname for him. 

Aria seemed to debate who she wanted. Her face screwed up as she flashed between her three favourite people. Nero recognised the expression instantly. "No, no, no, no don't cry it's alright!" He said quickly. He hurriedly took her back from Vergil and tucked her against his chest. 

Dante had wondered just how much of their blood the little lady would have ever since Nero had announced their pregnancy. Her hair was mostly red, with a little streak of white in the front that framed her face. Between that and her blue eyes, those were the only hints of her heritage. Her skin was darker like her mother's and covered with a smattering of freckles, not pale like theirs. Nero hadn't reported any devil proclivities, though, aside from the fact that his scaled arm had been her favourite teething toy. Her ability to charm was certainly out of this world but in Dante's opinion, that had more to do with her relation to him. 

Aria's crisis was entirely forgotten when Kyrie walked into the room. All of a sudden, she squirmed to be put down and then high-tailed it towards her mother. Everyone else in the room was forgotten about. Kyrie fell to Nero's side and he put his arm around her. With Aria in the middle, they made a perfect picture. Nero turned to kiss her on the cheek and Kyrie blushed at all the attention. 

"Gross," Dante joked. 

"Brother, would it kill you to cease being a child for a single moment? What am I saying, of course it would." 

"Hey! Would it kill you two to stop fighting for a second?" Nero scolded. 

Both of them looked suitably chastised, though Dante smirked at Vergil when his nephew wasn't looking. Vergil only scowled at him. 

While the adults sat and caught up, Aria played musical chairs with everyone's laps as she tried to decide who she wanted attention from. Dante shouldn't have been surprised, she was Nero's kid, after all. Of course she'd have the kid's knack for demanding affection at all times. 

Kyrie came through, carrying a tray of tea for her and Vergil, coffee for Dante and Nero, and a sippy cup of water for Aria. At least Nero'd had the good sense to develop a love for coffee like his uncle, instead of taking after his papa's pretentious tea loving. Aria moved over to Dante's lap and held out the drink at him expectantly. "Now," she demanded at him. She did her best impression of an impatient frown but it was ruined by her chubby face. 

"Say please," Nero scolded at her gently. Of course Vergil's kid would be a stickler for manners, despite his terrible vocabulary. He'd stopped cussing almost entirely now, though, on account of being a good influence to his little girl. 

"Now please," she huffed. Dante chuckled and hoisted her up to sit next to him, holding the bottle out for her. 

She somehow managed to spill most of it down her front, despite the lid being watertight. Neither of her parents seemed to mind, though, so neither did Dante. She muttered out a half-hearted thank you after her dad reminded her, and then shuffled off to her grandpa. The cheek, she'd used Dante for his world class cup holding skills! 

As strict as Vergil had been with Nero, it was nothing short of surprising to see how indulgent he was with Aria. Often times, Nero had to be the one who put his foot down, while Vergil tended to be incredibly lenient with her. They had a whole good cop bad cop routine they weren't even aware of. 

For example, it was apparently time for Aria's afternoon nap. 

"It's a special occasion. Why not let her stay up just this once?" Vergil asked. He looked down at Aria, where she sat on his lap while shoving his fingers into her mouth. 

Nero removed his head from leaning against his father's shoulder with a frown. "You know why. You wouldn't have let that fly when it was me. She'll be a source of endless tantrums later." 

"Are you jealous of her?" Vergil smiled, not looking away from the little lady. She totally had him wrapped around her little finger. 

"No!" Nero spluttered, indignant. "I'm just saying you've gone soft, is all. Come on," he put out his arms out for her and Vergil reluctantly handed her over. 

She peaked out from over Nero's shoulder as he carried her to her crib. "Night, night, guncle Da," she waved at him. Adorably, too, he might add. 

Maybe she had them all wrapped around her finger. 

Chapter Text

Nero shifted in bed, blearily blinking awake at the digital alarm clock on his bedside table. The neon numbers announced that it was exactly twenty minutes until the witching hour, which meant that he didn't have much time. He slid his arm from under Kyrie as carefully as he could, but she stirred anyway. She'd always been a light sleeper. 

"Going out?" She mumbled sleepily at him, barely able to keep her eyes open. 

"Yeah, got a late-night job" he confirmed, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. 

Nero tried to move away, but Kyrie wasn't satisfied until she pulled him back down again for a proper kiss. He gave himself to it for a moment, his body straddling hers, with his weight propped up onto his biceps as he hovered over her. Kyrie's fingers tangled in his hair to deepen the kiss, before, all too soon, she released him again. He blinked owlishly as he tried to ground himself. 

"You should go," she said sweetly. "Or you'll be late." 

"What about another one for good luck?" He tried. 

"Nero," Kyrie admonished, playfully smacking his chest a little. 

"Alright, alright, I'm going," he held up his hands in mock defeat. "But if it goes badly because someone refused to give me a good luck token..." Even as he said it, he was padding over to his cupboard to fish out his work clothes. These consisted of a faded pair of dark jeans and an old black shirt, topped with a blue cotton jacket. 

"You'll be safe, though, won't you?" Kyrie called after him. 

"Promise," Nero replied.

He sat down next to her on the bed and pulled on a pair of sturdy boots. After one last lingering look exchanged on both sides, Nero pulled the bedroom door closed behind him and headed for his weapons. They were stored in the garage in a locked safe high up on the walls to keep them out of the hands of intruders or his daughter. As he rounded the hall for the back door, the worried face of Aria peeked out from her doorframe. 

Nero frowned, his rush instantly forgotten as he hauled Aria up onto his hip. "You're starting to get a little too big for me to keep doing this," he complained half-heartedly. "Couldn't sleep?" 

She shook her head. "Daddy? Are you going somewhere?" 

Instances of when Nero had been in her exact position sprang to mind: the countless times where Vergil had put him to bed and then tried to leave for a job afterwards. Nero, always able to sense that something was up, had caught him at the door and clung to his side countless times, distressed at the idea of his father leaving, even for a little bit. 

She wrapped his arms around his neck and Nero stroked her hair back soothingly. "'Fraid so. But I'll be back before you know it, alright? Before you even wake up." 

"But I'm awake now," she frowned at him. 

Nero couldn't help but chuckle at her seriousness, rendered so adorable by her soft cheeks and big eyes. This only deepened her disapproving look. 

"I think your mom is feeling a little lonely with me gone. Do you think maybe you could keep her company? I'm sure she'd appreciate it. " 

"Okay," Aria replied, her brow setting in determination. 

"Thank you," Nero smiled softly at her. He squeezed her to his chest one last time and then lowered her back onto the floor. 

She scampered off to their shared bedroom, turning back to look at him only once her hand was on the doorknob. "Promise you'll be back?" 

"Promise. Now sleep tight, alright?" 

She nodded and then disappeared behind the door. 

As it turned out, the job wasn't too difficult. A couple of riots to handle, but nothing too major. When he returned home, however, all hell had broken loose. Nero's arm glowed as he neared their house and he cussed under his breath. That could not be a good omen. Everything was quiet, though, and he'd have chalked it up to his imagination if he didn't hear Aria's scream pierce his ears at that exact moment. His hand was on his sword in a heartbeat, and the front door opened even sooner. 

"Leave her alone!" Came Kyrie's distressed yell. 

Nero came face to face with his worst nightmare: the scene of Aria in the grasp of a hell caina. Kyrie was standing in their doorway, her access blocked by another two demons. 

"Get away from my daughter, you bastard!" He roared. 

It all happened so quickly. One moment, he was enraged, a tight feeling sprang from his chest at the sight of his family in danger. He wished he could grab Aria, to pull her closer so that he could protect her. In the next, as if it had read his mind, a spectral hand sprung from his demon arm. Aria was yanked from the demon's grip and she shrieked and squirmed at the sudden constraint until she was tucked safely against Nero's side. 

"Sweetheart, I need you to keep your eyes on me, alright? Don't look at anything around you, just look at me, okay?" He asked. He wanted to spare his child the gory details. 

She nodded numbly, pressing her face into his chest. No time to reflect on his new powers, he had demons to kill. He hacked and slashed his way towards Kyrie, drawing the attention of the horde. He pulled up his demon arm, using the scales to block the blades of the caina. It was a blur as he rushed to secure his house, to rid his family of the threat. Nothing mattered but the death throes of his enemies, nothing except his family. He barely realised it was over until he pulled his blade out of the final demon's chest. 

"Spaaarda," it hissed as it disintegrated. Weird, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. 

"Kyrie?" He yelled desperately. He needed her to be alright, couldn't handle it if she was- 

"I'm here, Nero!" She called. Kyrie had ducked behind their bedroom door, but surfaced at his voice. She ran to him and he wrapped his unoccupied arm around her shakily. 

"What the hell happened?" 

"I don't know... It was all so sudden. They arrived just a little after you left and went straight for Aria. I was so scared something would happen to her." 

"It won't. I won't let anything happen to either of you, alright?" He said it for her benefit as well as his own. 

Nero pressed his forehead against Kyrie's, grateful that the situation hadn't been worse. He set Aria on the counter and they both fussed over her, searching for the faintest hint of an injury. Luckily, everyone seemed to be okay, just very shaken up. The three of them eventually crawled back into bed, with their daughter sandwiched between them. His girls fell into a fitful sleep, but Nero stayed watchful the whole night. He would protect them both. He would do whatever it took to keep them safe. 

Chapter Text

"What do you know of your grandfather?" His father prompted. 

Vergil accepted the cup of tea from Kyrie's outstretched hands with a grateful nod. He sipped from the slightly chipped blue mug thoughtfully as he waited for Nero's answer. His father sat with his legs crossed and his back ramrod straight, as prim and proper as always. To think that this endearingly stiff and polite old man was his father... well it was always a pretty funny concept. Most people outside of their family immediately jumped to the conclusion that he was Dante's son, not that he could blame them all that much. Still, Nero wouldn't have had it any other way. 

"Nothing, really," Nero finally replied. Despite his best attempts at coaxing his brain to cough up some details, there weren't any to be found. 

Vergil nodded sagely and set his cup down on the saucer in front of him. "I'm not surprised you don't remember. You were very little when I last explained your heritage to you." His father shifted his position as though settling in to explain something. "What do you know of the Devil Lord Sparda?" 

It wasn't hard to guess where this was headed.

"Umm, as in the Saviour? The dude in all the statues around town, you saying he's my grandpa?" 

"Quite so." 

"God, that's weird." 

His father snorted at that. "Indeed it is. And how ironic that things have come full circle," he added quietly. 

"Huh?" Nero frowned. 

Vergil cleared his throat and straightened his back again. It was a cold, windy day outside and the chill made its way into their home, despite the firmly closed doors and windows. It set the atmosphere perfectly for family tales about his dear old demon gramps. It'd also made Aria uncharacteristically agreeable about settling down for her afternoon nap. Once she was under the layers of warm blankets, she was out like a light. 

"Sparda is known amongst most demons as the betrayer. He is seen as a man who turned his back on his own kind to play house with a human woman. As a result, they do not take too kindly to him or his descendants." His father drained the contents of his tiny cup and placed it on the table again. "Do you remember when you first wanted to join the family business?" 

Nero made a face at the uncomfortable topic. It was still a pretty delicate issue on both sides.  "Yeah?" 

"As I said before, it's not a matter of skill. I know you to be incredibly capable of whatever you set your mind to-" 

Nero's face warmed at the compliment. 

"-however," Vergil continued, "as a descendant of Sparda, you are at risk of being targeted by his enemies. I never wanted to see you tangled up in all of this. No matter what, Nero, you'll always be my boy. " 

"What happened to him?" Nero burst out before he lost the nerve. "Sparda, I mean. How come I never got to meet him?" 

His father's face was carefully impassive. Although Dante and Lady claimed he'd open up a lot after Nero was born, there were still certain topics that he was very guarded around. Finally, he replied, "He simply disappeared one day without warning. No one knows what became of him." 

Nero shouldn't push his luck, he knew this, but he couldn't help it. Both his uncle and father were incredibly private about their childhood and he just couldn't miss the opportunity to ask.

"Were you and your dad close?" He probed cautiously. 

His father was silent for a while, as though considering. His arms were crossed and he got a far away look in his eye. "Yes, I suppose we were." 

"I'm sorry. That you never got closure, I mean." 

Vergil accepted the words with a nod but swiftly changed the subject. "I hoped that you would be safe from this family curse, that you were far removed enough to not be targeted. And, for a while, that seemed to be the case. I cannot say why the attack occurred now, after such a long time." 

"A head's up would've been nice. Why'd you never tell me?" Nero frowned. 

"I didn't want to trouble you with worries that may have never come to fruition." 

Classic overbearing Vergil. A familiar frustration rose a little to the surface. "I just wish you'd said something," he huffed. 

"In hindsight, as do I," his father sighed. "However, there's no changing the past."

Vergil tended to get more eloquent when he was uncomfortable. It was one of his idiosyncrasies that could be misread as cold by others, but his loved ones knew better. It was just one of his quirks. 

"It's fine, I guess." Nero conceded. "Anything else you're hiding from me?" 

"A fair number of things. However, sometimes secrets are best left unknown." 

"Well, at least you're honest," Nero snorted. 

"While I have chosen to keep certain things to myself, I will never lie to you, Nero. Now," his father said as he rose to his feet. He set his cup in the sink a few feet away, and then returned. "According to your clock, I do believe it is our good Lady Muck Aria's dinnertime. We both know how much of a fuss she kicks up if we're late." 

"Preaching to the choir," Nero chucked. 

Watching his father spoon-feeding his fussy, wiggly granddaughter was quite a sight. Nero knew that Vergil cared about being presentable, but he didn't seem to mind the traces of mushy peas stuck to his coat. Not when their source was from someone he loved so dearly and frankly coddled an awful lot. 

"Dad?" Nero prompted. 

Vergil hummed without turning around. 

"I think I unlocked a demon ability or... Something the other day. I guess that's the only explanation for it. It was like a blue spectral hand, it just sorta appeared out of my devil arm. Is that normal?" 

"Curious," Vergil finally faced him, much to Aria's dismay. "I can't say I've ever encountered that before. Can you show me?" 

Aria began banging her first in annoyance against her highchair until her grandfather fed another spoonful into her chubby maw. She chewed enthusiastically for a few moments, buying them a few seconds of time. 

Nero tried half-heartedly, but he already knew it was futile. "I don't think I can do it on command. It just sort of happened." 

"I'm not surprised," Vergil said as he scooped food from Aria's chin back into her mouth. "Our abilities are powered more easily by strong emotions and are difficult to master. I could teach you to control it." He set the container down and spun towards Nero. "In truth, I was beginning to think you'd never develop any powers." 

"Huh, that must've been disappointing."  

"Of course not. No matter what, I'll always be proud of you, Nero. This was merely a bonus." Vergil picked up his granddaughter and she nuzzled against his chest comfortably. "Provided you trust your uncle not to burn the house down in our absence, perhaps we could get him to babysit. I've been meaning to teach you how to summon swords as well." 

Nero grinned, not even attempting to hide his excitement. It'd been too long since he and his old man'd gotten to spar together and he was itching for an excuse to test his new skills.

"I'll see what I can do," he promised. 

Chapter Text

The two stood in the clearing, facing each other. No weapons were drawn and their respective poises were relaxed. Nero stood with his arms folded across his chest and Vergil had his clasped behind his back. Even in his early twenties, Nero hadn't surpassed his father in height. Far from it, in fact. His mother had been rather short, Vergil mused, and it was nothing short of a miracle, so to speak, that their son was only off by a few inches. 

Fortuna was far milder in temperature than Redgrave and Vergil could never quite get used to it. What had started as a perfectly cool day had developed into the in-between sort of temperature that left him shrugging his coat on and off all day. Aria, however,  delighted in her grandfather's jacket and relished every opportunity to drape it over her tiny body. She seemed enamoured with its many tails, specifically in flopping them up and down with her hands. Nero softly admonished her to be gentle, but Vergil didn't mind. Even if she did manage to break any part of the fabric, her unadulterated joy was well worth any effort he'd have to put into fixing the coat. Once a man motivated by power alone, now he would pay any price for his family's happiness. 

A breeze picked up and stirred stray strands of his hair, flitting them against his face. 

"So, the hand thing," Nero started. "Is that a regular demon power? Can either of you do that?" 

Vergil's attention snapped back to the task at hand. It wasn't like him to lose focus, perhaps Dante was right, maybe had grown soft over the years. Although he'd never admit either of those sentiments aloud. 

"That one seems to be uniquely yours. I can't say I've ever seen it before, though, the pool of human hybrids is rather small." Vergil shifted his posture slightly before continuing, "at first I'd assumed your inheritance was limited to your arm and your uncanny ability for raising hell." 

Nero smiled a little at the last part. 

"Although, given recent developments, it's possible you may possess a partial and maybe even whole devil trigger." 

"How do I find out? What's the magic word, 'open sesame'?" Nero asked. 

"I'm afraid it's not that simple. You cannot force your devil trigger. Like any ability of ours, controlling them takes time, though unlocking them generally requires a strong emotion. You discovered this when you first opened a portal with Yamato." 

"Alright, then what's the magic feeling? I just gotta feel extra demony?" 

He had certainly, despite Vergil's best efforts, developed his uncle's love of cracking jokes at any given time.  

"From what I've observed, it seems to differ for every individual." 

"Yeah? Like what? What was Dante's?" 

Powerful regret washed through him. As long as he lived, Vergil would never let Nero glean the part of their past that was rife with bloodshed. How could Vergil tell his boy that before his birth, he and Dante had been at each other's throats their entire lives? He wouldn't, it would break Nero's heart. 

"That," Vergil said strategically. "Is not my story to tell. Nor is it my place." 

Vergil knew full well that Dante wouldn't provide the tale, even if Nero asked. The brothers had little in common, though their adverse reactions to serious, emotional talks were the same. Although, even if he wanted to share that particular story, his reasoning wasn't inaccurate. He had been raised on decent manners, etiquette lessons that Dante had seemingly entirely disregarded, although the finer, more specific social niceties often fled him. Even still, Vergil was certain that Dante's story was indeed his own. 

"Alright, then. What was your trigger?" Nero asked. 

Instantly, Vergil was transported back to his pre-pubescent years. He had been alone, on the run from a particularly stubborn horde of demons. They'd been hounding him for days on end, not allowing him to rest. He'd run himself ragged, never daring to stop for more than an hour to eat or rest. One day, however, he'd fallen asleep. He was exhausted and so his slumber was deep, only interrupted by the clang of a sword right next to his ear. He'd startled then and looked up through the blanket of darkness. A Death Scissors had missed his head by a breath and driven its blade into the ground instead. Vergil had leapt to his feet, his hand feeling for Yamato. 

It wasn't there. His usually clear mind was dampened with fear. Where was it? Had he dropped it? He was too panicked to feel her presence. 

This was all the distraction the demon needed, swinging its scissors towards him and catching Vergil in the back. He gasped, falling to his knees. The scene was familiar, though this time he didn't even have his sword to protect him. He was going to die, he was going to die. This mantra repeated in his mind, the fear and pain intensifying with each iteration. A blue light encased his body and a growl rose from his throat. His fingers, now claws, tinked against the stony ground. 

"Fear," Vergil replied. "And pain." The catch in his voice was obvious, though neither commented on it. 

Vergil later learned that this was his partial trigger, that his full demonic form would only activate much later. He tried to repeat the transformation to no avail, finding that it only reoccurred with the return of those emotions. 

"Oh," Nero said quietly. He was frowning. This only cemented Vergil's decision to keep his sordid past a secret. "Do you think I could learn how to summon swords?" 

"I thought you wanted to learn how to shoot?" Vergil asked, a slight smile in his voice. 

"Well, yeah, but. I can do both, can't I?" 

"I'm sure you could, Nero. You're more than capable." 

Nero grinned his boyish grin. Though he'd aged, his enthusiasm hadn't dampened, Vergil was happy to note. " What about judgement cuts?"

"One thing at a time, Little One," Vergil laughed softly. 

Nero flushed immediately. He often pretended to hate that nickname these days, though Vergil caught the small smile on his boy's face whenever he used it. 

"Now, let's see if you've improved. Would you like to spar?" 

Nero whooped in response and dove for Vergil. 

In the end, Vergil won, though Nero had certainly gotten better. His moves were far less easy to read these days. With that battle over, the two discovered a new fight at home. 

Dante was supposed to be looking after his great-niece, though it seemed that she had learned exactly how to target his soft spots. Just like her father in that aspect, it would seem. Fully expecting Aria to be asleep, Nero sputtered when he was greeted with quite the sight: Dante sitting on the couch and Aria standing over him. His long hair had been pushed into little pink ribbons. The likely culprit shrieked happily at her handiwork. 

Nero scowled. "She's supposed to be asleep!" 

"Tell that to her!" Dante said. 

"She's a toddler! You were supposed to put her to bed!" 

"I tried!"

"C'mon, kiddo. Bedtime," Nero informed her. 

Aria predictably shook her head and then bolted. Nero immediately took off after her. She put up a surprisingly good fight, though it wasn't long before Nero scooped her up into his arms. She giggled. 

"You're a little terror, you know that?" He cooed at her as he carried her towards her bedroom. 

"Your hair looks better than usual. Aria is quite the hairdresser," Vergil smiled. 

"Shut up!" Dante shot back. 

"You were bested by a toddler. What was it that you said last week? 'Demons quake before me? And you quake before toddlers, do you?" 

"Just shut up and help me take it out!" 

"You made your bed, brother. Now lie in your pink fluorescent nightmare. I'm sure Lady would love this story," Vergil smirked. 

"C'mon, don't tell her! She'd never let me live it down!" 

"Oh, I'm counting on it." 

Chapter Text

Kyrie approached the lounge to find Vergil already awake and reading. Aria was still half asleep, tucked against her mother's chest. It was nothing a little breakfast wouldn't remedy, however. Much like her father, Kyrie thought fondly, Aria was incredibly food-motivated. 

Vergil leaned forward to pick up his cup from the table in front of him, not lifting his eyes from his book as he did so. He nodded a wordless greeting to Kyrie as he caught her arrival in his peripheral and his face softened into a smile when his eyes fell upon his granddaughter. 

"Good morning, Mister Vergil!" Kyrie greeted cheerily. "Would you mind holding her for me for a moment?" 

As was the norm for most of his actions, Vergil was silent as he accepted Aria. She perked up a bit in his arms, she did so adore her grandfather, and Kyrie smiled at the two of them. 

"How's my little lady, hmm?" He cooed at her. Aria giggled as he pressed a kiss to her temple, wiggling in his embrace at the ticklish sensation.

Vergil was a quiet man, Kyrie mused as she prepared a pot of baby food for Aria. While Dante was a chatterbox and, quite frankly, reminded her of a silver-haired puppy, his brother was more like a cat. He preferred to observe rather than participate. It could give the impression of stuffiness, but Nero had explained that his father just wasn't the most social being. Vergil was fiercely protective of both Nero and Aria and loved his brother in his own way. He liked Kyrie and had said as much, though she still found him hard to approach at times. 

This wasn't a feeling she was used to. Nero had once described her as 'easy to love', although he was definitely biased. Credo often liked to tell her that she could befriend the devil himself. He hadn't been wrong there. She could get along with just about anyone, even Lady, who'd been fierce at first. Once she'd accepted that Kyrie wasn't going to hurt Nero, she'd softened up considerably. All of the men in Nero's family had a healthy respect for Lady, and Kyrie could certainly see why. 

Vergil, though, kept himself at a distance. It was most likely entirely unintentional, but there was something so far away about the man. Vergil was a star: intriguing, yet entirely unreachable. 

Kyrie took her daughter back from Vergil and set her in her high chair, where a pot of breakfast sat waiting for her. Kyrie handed Aria a plastic spoon. She'd reached the age where she needed to learn how to feed herself, even if she got more food on her face than in her mouth. She kicked her feet happily, making a staccato against her chair. Her face and hands were painted with the pale yellow of apple sauce. 

"Nero tells me you play the violin, Mister Vergil?" Kyrie ventured. 

He looked up from his book, blinking blearily as though processing what she'd said, before answering with an "Indeed. I no longer have my own, however." 

"That's a shame. I'd love to hear you play." 

"I'm sure it pales in comparison to your singing if Nero's raving is anything to go by. Is he still asleep?" 

Kyrie flushed a little at the compliment. Nero had spoken to his father about her singing? She nodded in response to his question. 

"He gets his sleeping habits from his uncle," Vergil smiled. The expression often looked out of place on his face, as though he wasn't used to making it. 

"He had a bit of a rough night. He didn't get too much sleep," she said softly. 

"Ah," Vergil replied. Of course, he'd be familiar with the frequency of Nero's bad dreams. 

"Anyways, I believe you offered some baby photos? I bet he was adorable," she offered to break the stretch of silence. 

"He was, though I suppose I'm not the most objective source. I'm afraid I don't have any with me, though I'll be sure to bring them next time. Or," he stopped to think. "I could always get them now." He fingered the hilt of his sword. "A terrible waste of power, though I'm sure exceptions can be made." 

Kyrie stayed silent, not entirely sure what he was getting at. Vergil drew his sword and sliced through the air, creating a starry void in its wake. He stepped through the portal and it closed behind him as he disappeared. She was still staring silently at the spot where he'd vanished when he appeared next to her. She jumped as he approached. 

"Forgive me," he grimaced apologetically. "I didn't mean to startle you." 

"It's alright."

Vergil extended a frame to her. Enclosed was a photo of Lady, looking much younger, with a rare smile on her face. Her clothes were different, but she was easily identifiable. A figure that must've been Dante stood to the side. He had his signature wide grin, but his face was boyish and his hair much shorter. His bangs almost obscured his eyes and his jacket, though red, was different. She gasped as her eyes fell upon the child in the middle. A little boy, no more than six, was held up between the two of them. His colouring was familiar: that pale skin was the same, though his hair was whiter and fluffier. His eyes were a bright blue and his face was flushed with happiness. His cheeks were round and chubby with baby fat. He was instantly recognisable.

They'd both been young when they'd met, that fateful day at the park. Younger even than the Nero in that photo. She'd forgotten how cute he'd been. 

"Oh," she breathed. "He was adorable!" 

"He was rather, wasn't he?" Vergil said, his features soft with fondness. 

"Wanna see!" Aria demanded. She'd finished with her breakfast, the pot laying empty and turned on its head. 

"Say please, Ari," Kyrie prompted gently. 

"Please," she huffed. 

Vergil dutifully held the frame in front of her and she extended her sticky fingers in delight. "Lady," she recognised easily, leaving a smear of apple residue on the glass. She frowned at the figure on the right, tilting her head like an expert investigator. "Grandpa?" She asked, uncertain. 

"That's your Great Uncle Dante," Vergil corrected. 

She nodded sagely. "Guncle Da," she ameliorated. "And..." She pointed at the boy in the middle with a frown. 

"Your father," Vergil provided. 

"Daddy?" She exclaimed in great surprise. 

"That's right." 

She squinted at her grandfather as if trying to determine if she was being tricked. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm up," came Nero's hoarse morning voice from down the hall. Aria shrieked and held her arms out for him. 

He wrinkled his nose at the sight of her. "You need a bath, you little monster." 

Though he picked her up anyway and then made a beeline for Kyrie. He pressed a kiss to Kyrie's cheek from behind. 

"I'll do it," Vergil offered. "Sit, eat." 

Nero nodded gratefully but stopped when he saw the frame. "What's this?" 

"As I promised," Vergil said as he took his granddaughter from Nero. "It's customary to bring out the baby photos." 

Nero sighed, a faint flush on his cheeks. "Haven't you got anything better to do than embarrass me first thing in the morning?" 

"I'm your father, Nero. It's my job," Vergil smiled softly. "And it's apparently your job to be so easily flustered." 

Nero brushed his nose wordlessly and began boiling the kettle for coffee. 

"Your father is nice, isn't he?" Kyrie said after Vergil had left the room. 

Nero scoffed as he stirred in some milk. "If by nice you mean a prick, then yeah." 

"Nero!" She scolded. 

"He's a good man," he conceded. "We used to fight a lot, didn't always see eye to eye. But yeah, he's the only dad I got and he could be a lot worse. Always does his best." 

Kyrie kissed Nero's cheek. From what she'd seen, Vergil was definitely a good man. Nero didn't have a mom, meaning that he'd been raised by Vergil as a single father, but Nero had always been happy. As a kid, he'd been so sure of himself, so enthusiastic. He'd definitely calmed down as he'd aged, and fatherhood had mellowed him out all the more, but Vergil had always done right by him. Or he'd at least tried his best to.

She certainly wouldn't mind having him as a father-in-law one day, she mused. 

Chapter Text

Nero wandered towards the lounge. His bare feet slapped against the cool tile to announce his approach. Vergil, as he so often seemed to be, was the first riser. A book already lay open on his lap. His left leg lay horizontally resting against his right. There was something so wholly soothing in this familiarity. The soft glow of the early morning summer sun bathed Vergil in a gentle light as if cementing the idea that Nero would find comfort here. A fully poetic, heavenly declaration that, no matter how old Nero was, he could still count on that small childlike feeling that the presence of his father would make it all better. 

Nero felt a little lighter immediately. He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his father. Vergil looked up as he drew nearer and inclined his head a little in greeting. Nero closed the distance in an instant and flopped against Vergil's side, curling up next to him with a sigh. His father was a little startled at the suddenness at first, though he soon reciprocated the gesture. The two lay against one another, a contrast of grey and black against the red couch. Clearly, Nero had taken some interior decoration cues from his uncle. 

"Nero?" Came the soft voice Vergil reserved only for him or Aria. "Is something the matter?" 

Nero wasn't even fully dressed yet, clad only in the grey pair of sweatpants that served as his pyjamas most days. Of course, Vergil was already fully dressed in his black vest and leather pants. His coat hung by the door and his gloves lay tucked into one of its pockets. Dante had griped that it was time for a change for both of them and had all but dragged his brother into a clothing shop. Vergil was incredibly picky and didn't much like change, though Dante was an expert at pestering his twin into doing something. His ascot had been traded in when Dante had nagged that it made Vergil look like an old man. Vergil had a style and he stubbornly stuck to it. He'd never really been one for change. Though, he had been persuaded into a change in colour scheme from blue to black. Even the old, worn three-tail coat had been traded for a newer version. Nero strongly associated the jacket with his childhood and the games he'd play trying to catch his Papa's tails whenever things around the house got too boring. 

His uncle's endearingly terrible fashion taste (that was something Nero and Vergil agreed on, though with Vergil, the 'endearing' bit was far more vaguely implied) had been switched for something much more tasteful. Even if he only wore ratty Henley shirts these days, it was still a step up. Dante's eternally teenage-style camo pants were upgraded to leather, and the new red coat was more sophisticated. 

They lay there for a small eternity: father and son. Vergil moved to stroke Nero's hair, his fingers moving against the prickly strands as if through grass. He remembered when it had been silk in his hands, smooth and soft. Nero made a noise of appreciation at the gesture, though it was muffled against his father's shoulder. 

"Did you ever worry that you were messing me up? Like all your mistakes were adding up, like you weren't doing good enough?"

Vergil hummed. "Constantly." 

Nero lifted his head to peek up at him, discerning.  A look so much like Aria's. "Really? I never really got that impression." 

"Mmm. That was a purposeful effort on my part," he replied. Nero settled back down against his father's shoulder. "My mistakes are my own, and I never wanted to impart them on you." Vergil's fingers found his boy's hair again. "No, you definitely didn't need any of that. You were always such an anxious little thing," he chuckled. 

Nero made a half-hearted disgruntled noise but didn't disagree. The proximity was comforting. So often, he felt as though he was still a child, only playing at being an adult. It was a good excuse to drop the curtain a little. Here, it didn't matter if the mask slipped a few inches. He knew that his father would not judge him. 

"Does it ever go away?" Nero mumbled. "That feeling, I mean." 

Vergil was silent as he shifted, as though carefully deciding his answer. "I'm afraid," Vergil seemed to concede eventually, "that it does not. Such is the mark of parenthood, it would seem." 

Nero only hummed. He was on his way to falling asleep again. It had been far too long, he mused tiredly, since they'd spent one-on-one time together. Fatherhood kept him busy, even if Aria was steadily growing and developing her independence. The chaotic cycle of mundane life kept them both occupied. 

"I wouldn't worry too much. Children are incredibly adaptable." Nero felt familiar calloused fingers on the cheek that was not pressed against Vergil. "No matter how often I failed you, you turned out alright." There was a hint of something positive in his voice. Humour or pride. Or, hell, maybe even both. 

"You didn't fail me," Nero mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes. It may have made his expression seem insincere to someone else, but he was simply too comfortable to open them. "You did your best. Shit, I can appreciate how hard it must've been now more than ever." 

"Your uncle most certainly failed you by passing on that foul mouth of his," Vergil smiled. 

Nero snickered at that. 

"For what it's worth, Nero, I think you're doing an excellent job. I am so very proud of you." 

Though he'd definitely gotten better, at his core, Vergil was a private man. He preferred to have his tender moments in secret, where he felt unobserved. Nero didn't mind, not when it made for precious moments like these. Nero wasn't nearly as bad at displaying his feelings as the rest of his family, but he was glad that no one else was there to observe. Because he could argue that he absolutely hadn't teared up at that, not even a little bit. And his voice was definitely not the slightest bit thick as he forced the words "thanks, dad" past his throat. 

Vergil said nothing, only pressed back into Nero. And so the two of them sat just like that, together.

"Aww, you were having a family cuddle session without me?" Came the unmistakable groggy voice of Dante.

His voice had appeared before the rest of him had, with his form concealed behind the passage wall. Nero couldn't help but think that it was entirely on brand for Dante. 

"Must you ruin everything?" Vergil grumbled. 

Nero wiped his face against his father's shoulder before lifting his head and looking at Dante properly. "You're up early. Couldn't sleep?"

"Something like that," Dante said. His smile was strained, but only for a moment. "Shouldn't the little lady be awake by now?" 

Nero was thinking of voicing his concerns, but Dante was great at changing the subject.

"Let her sleep in," Vergil said softly. 

"Remember that one time you threatened to toss me in the bath, blankets and all, because I didn't wanna get up for school?" Nero scoffed. 

"I wouldn't have actually done it," his father rebutted. 

"I was six, I didn't know that!" 

"Shit, you're one hell of a hard-ass, Verge," Dante chuckled. "Want me to wake her?" 

"Nah," Nero said, getting to his feet. "I got it. I'm ready to do this again," he added with a meaningful look at Vergil. "Thanks."

"Whenever you need me, Nero," Vergil smiled.

Chapter Text

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you," Nero began tentatively. He firmly tucked the black fitted sheet underneath his side of the mattress. It was a good excuse to look away from Kyrie as he worked up the courage. He was careful not to shred the delicate material with his clawed arm. 

He had a... Complicated relationship with his devil arm. His father and uncle had always treated it as though it was normal and so he'd never really paid much attention to it. Most of the time, he forgot that it was there. But Nero will never fail to recall the first day that he was made to realise that it was, in fact, pretty freaking far from normal. Other kids could be pretty cruel the second they spotted someone a little different from them. If not for his arm, though, he doubted he and Kyrie would have met, so he guessed it was also a blessing. Most days, he thanked his lucky stars that some little snot-nose had decided to call him out on his weird appendage. He appreciated Kyrie for standing up for him even more though. 

"Hmmm?" She hummed in that angelic voice of hers. Nero swore he'd never get over how beautiful it was. 

Cars passed on the street below, intermixed with the bustling sounds of city life. It was weird, Nero had grown up here, and yet he'd grown so accustomed to Fortuna that the sounds of his home town were now alien to him. 

"Just... Don't freak out, alright?" 

"Nero," Kyrie said gently. He loved how she said his name. "Whatever you have to tell me, I promise I'll listen." 

"Yeah, you're right," he breathed. 

He finally looked up at her. The two were separated by the double bed. She smiled that soft, beautiful smile of hers, patiently waiting for Nero to share his news. He relaxed instantly. It was Kyrie. He could tell her anything. 

"So it turns out that the Devil Lord Sparda is my grandpa, or whatever," he burst out.

She looked surprised at that but less shocked than he expected. Kyrie paused with a clean pillow cover in her hands. 

"Which would also mean that our daughter is-" 

"...A descendant of the Saviour," she finished. 

Nero grimaced, "Yeah. Pretty weird raising her on an island that worships her great grandpa, if you think about it." 

Kyrie abandoned the bedding and crossed over to his side of the mattress. "Nero, no matter what, I love you both very much. There's nothing you can say to change that," she said, taking his clawed hand in hers. 

The tension in Nero's body instantly eased up. "You're the best, you know that? Love you too."

Kyrie leans up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "You've always been special to me. I suppose it's not much of a surprise." 

Nero grinned at her, probably looking like a love-sick idiot as he wrapped her in his arms. Hell, he was a love-sick idiot. She slotted under his chin so perfectly and his arms circled her hips like they were made for just that. 

Kyrie giggled a little, snapping them both out of it. "We should probably get some sleep. We've got a busy night ahead of us tomorrow." 

"Just five more minutes," Nero pleaded with his eyes closed. He was perfectly content to stay here forever. 

"C'mon, Mister. We both need an early night," she smiles. 

"Aye, aye, cap'n," Nero conceded.  

Nero looked back on his childhood memories of Halloween fondly, and he wanted Aria to experience that, too. Unfortunately, living on an overly religious island meant that it was rife with superstition. The walls of the streets were filled with flyers warning its inhabitants of 'the dangers of celebrating the devil's birthday '. He just couldn't deny his daughter an opportunity to celebrate the greatest holiday of all time. So, the family agreed that they'd spend the weekend in Redgrave. 

Their old two-bedroom apartment certainly couldn't house the five of them, so Devil May Cry it was. Aria could easily sleep in Nero's old room. Dante had even kept his old cot and bed, which were easily combined into an amalgamation of a toddler bed with a bar along the side. His uncle had originally offered up his own room to Kyrie and Nero, though Vergil had argued that his bedroom was in a much cleaner state. 

Dante had insisted on taking the couch and not even Kyrie could talk him out of it, and Vergil took up Dante's room.

Dante was still asleep as Nero descended the stairs to the kitchen. The old man was sprawled out like a starfish, with his hand lifting his shirt, and his mouth making the most unholy snoring sounds.

Nero enjoyed a cup of coffee by himself. It was peaceful in the early morning, and he was easily occupied with looking over all the little changes to his early-childhood home. The shop proper was the same as he remembered, though there were some posters that definitely hadn't been there last time. He'd have to take those down before Aria saw. Nero fidgeted with his pendant, a habit he'd developed whenever he thought about Dante. It was nostalgic to be home, but he didn't miss it. He'd built a place of his own, after all

His daughter was not pleased when he came to wake her. She groaned and buried herself under the covers. 

"No you don't," he chuckled. "C'mon, you gotta get up." 

Aria squirmed away from him, her little body writhing under the sheet. He tried opening the curtains to let the light in, in an attempt to rouse her, but it wouldn't work when she was so perfectly shrouded. 

"Hey, you wanna see my arm?" He tried. "It changed colours again." 

As complex as his own feelings were about it, Aria's were simple. She loved it. She'd hold his devil arm in her little hands and demand that it change colours for her amusement. Any attempts at telling her that he couldn't control the light it emitted fell on deaf ears. 

Aria poked her head out of the blanket tentatively. It was a faded pink colour. 'Dante' and 'new' never seemed to have much to do with each other. 

"Really?" She asked. Her blue eyes peeled out from under a curtain of bangs. 

"Yup, never seen it glow quite like this before. You've got to get out of bed if you want to see it, though." Nero held it stubbornly behind his back as she tried to get a glimpse of it. 

Aria extricated herself from the cushion, abandoning her stuffed rabbit on the bed. Nero wished he could've given her one of his old toys for nostalgic purposes, but they'd been too well-loved to last. Shadow was nothing but a patchwork of loose stuffing and threadbare fur in a dump somewhere. He totally hadn't cried when Vergil finally convinced him to get rid of it, no matter what Dante said. Nero had just had some stray stuffing residue in his eye. 

Aria's grumbling was quickly forgotten the second she saw his arm. Nero held it out for inspection patiently as she turned it this way and that. It was true that he'd never seen a glow quite like it before. It was a mixture of soft gold with a hint of light blue. 

"Whoa," Aria said. "Pretty." 

"Yeah? You like it?" He smiled. 

She didn't protest as he picked her up and carried her over to the bathroom to help her wash her hands. As long as she could look at his arm, she was uncharacteristically cooperative. Her transfixed state was quickly broken when she was presented with food. After that, she was all too happy to dedicate all of her concentration to her bowl of cereal. 

"How'd you sleep, Pumpkin?" Nero asked over the sound of sizzling bacon. 

"Bad," Aria wrinkled her nose. "Gunckle Dante snores." 

"He sure does, doesn't he," he chucked. 

"Mmm, he prides himself on being as obnoxious as possible at all hours of the day," Vergil said as he appeared from down the hall. He pressed a kiss to Aria's forehead as he passed. "You're getting so big." A squeeze to Nero's shoulder, "Did you sleep well?" It was never just a formality when he asked it. 

"Yeah," Nero answered honestly. "You?" 

"What a mess you've made, my little horror," Vergil said, instantly distracted. 

Aria squirmed and giggled as her grandfather wiped her face down with a cloth. 

"Does she need a bath?" 

"Nah, gave her one last night," Nero said.

He took the bacon out of the pan and transferred the rashers onto a plate. The eggs were next. 

"Breakfast?" Nero offered. 

"You have some. And Kyrie." 

"I'm making for everyone, there's enough. You hungry?" 

"I want some!" Aria shrieked. 

"Inside voice, Ari, you'll wake your uncle," Nero scolded gently. "Besides, you just ate." 

"I'll wait for the others, but that's considerate of you. Thank you, Nero," Vergil smiled. "And in the meantime, what do you say I show you some old photos of your father, hmmm?" 

Aria squealed in delight. 

"What's your Halloween costume gonna be, Gunckle Da?" Aria asked. 

She and Nero had teamed up as an Ariel and King Triton. It was the only thing he could get her to wear, and it incorporated his white hair. The fake beard made him feel a little ridiculous, though. Aria's hair was easily visible under the cheap red wig, but she made up for it with adorable points. 

"Hmmm, I dunno, kiddo. I didn't really get one," Dante answered. 

"But it's Halloween!" She protested. "You have to dress up!" 

He thought for a bit, then grinned. "Tell you what. You close your eyes real tight and when you open them, I'll show you something really cool. Keep them shut though, alright?" 

Aria nodded and covered her eyes with her hands. 

"One," Dante counted as red scales began to creep up his arms. "Two," hair receded and was replaced with horns. "Three! Alright, you can open them." 

"Dante!" Nero and Vergil protested in unison. Both of them were convinced that Aria was going to be terrified.  

Aria's eyes were wide as she took in her uncle's Sin Devil Trigger. Her shocked expression soon gave way to pure, unadulterated excitement, however. 

"Cool!" She exclaimed. 

She poked and prodded at his scales with her little fingers and even climbed up the couch to pull at his horns. Dante endured it with the patience of a saint, before finally pulling her wriggling body down from his head. 

"You'd best be on your way, little lady. You've got some candy to collect." 

She grinned at his deep, rumbling voice. The admiration was clear on her face. 

"Daddy, why can't you have a cool costume like that? He even changed his voice!" She whined. 

"You're killing me," Nero sighed.

Halloween meant that he could keep his arm uncovered. It was easily passed off as a costume. He took Ari's hand in his clawed fingers. 

"Be careful, you two!" Kyrie called after them.

"You gotta show me your costume again sometime!" Aria demanded as she headed out of the door. 

"I can do that too," Vergil grumbled. 

They'd scored two massive bags of candy so big that Nero had to carry both of them. Turns out, no one could resist Aria's cuteness. Vergil, Dante, and Kyrie were staying home. The three of them had been put on trick-or-treater duty. Dante had just dumped his bowl outside the door, but Kyrie intended to actually hand hers out. Vergil didn't have too much luck, all of the children were far too intimidated by him to accept any candy.

Dante, under the pretence of checking it, stole half a bowl's worth. "Gunckle tax," he'd called it. He swiftly gave a good portion of it back, however, after a look from Vergil. 

Aria was convinced to reluctantly share it, though most of the adults only took a small amount, insisting that they weren't hungry. Most of it went to the two kids of the house, Dante and Aria. With a bellyful of candy and tired little legs from running around the neighbourhood all night, Aria soon dozed off on Kyrie's lap. Nero smiled her mother carried her off to bed. He was glad to have a daughter to share the joys of Halloween with. 

Chapter Text

It was their last day in Redgrave. The three of them would be boarding the ferry back to Fortuna first thing in the morning, just in time to attend the weekly church service. Nero had never been particularly religious in the first place, and the whole Agnus situation definitely hadn't helped. Kyrie was still a believer and attended the services regularly, while Nero stayed at home with Aria (Dante had made countless jokes about Nero being a housewife). 

Ari was still too little to sit through hour-long services quietly, but they'd both agreed that she'd be allowed to go when she was a little older if she chose to. Sometimes, Nero waited outside the church building just to catch the harmonious notes of Kyrie's singing as they rang out. 

Today, though, they were going to take advantage of the extra pairs of hands. Dante and Vergil were on babysitting duty, and Nero and Kyrie were having a long-overdue date night. 

"Her bedtime is seven pm, no exceptions," Nero drilled. "Before that, she gets a bath, and make sure she brushes her teeth. I left her pyjamas out on her chest of drawers, and-" 

"Kiddo," Dante laughed gently as he rested a hand on Nero's shoulder. "You're worse than your dad. Relax, we got this, alright?" 

Nero turned around, face serious," I want you to repeat everything back to me." 

"In bed by seven, teeth brushed, bathed, and in a clean pair of pyjamas," Vergil parroted easily. "You can call us if you're worried, I will make sure that Dante answers his phone. I hate to say it, but he's right, for once. We- or I, do, anyway- have this handled. You and Kyrie deserve a break." 

Nero scrutinised both of them for a moment, then deflated. "Alright, just... Call me if anything goes wrong, alright?" 

"Would you like us to call you for an update before we put her to bed?" His father offered. 

"Nah, I think I'm fine. Thanks though." 

"Then enjoy your evening, Nero," Vergil smiled. 

"Yeah, kid!" Dante joined in, slinging his arm around Dante's shoulders. "And don't do anything I wouldn't do!" 

There was the sound of his dad scolding his uncle, followed by their childish bickering in the background. The soundtrack of Nero's life. He smiled as he headed down the hall to the bedroom that they were using. 

Kyrie was busy fixing her hair in the mirror and smiled at the appearance of his reflection behind her. 

"You almost ready to go?" Nero asked. 

"What do you think?" She smiled, gesturing at herself. 

"You look beautiful," he answered truthfully. 

"This is what I always wear," she protested. 

"I know." 

She smiled over her shoulder at him, and Nero crossed the distance between them to press a kiss to her cheek. Her hair was down for once, its rippling waves of copper fell to her shoulders. It tickled his face as he leant down, but it was a small price to pay. 

"Ready?" 

She nodded. 

"Ari?" Nero called. 

"Here!" 

He followed the sound of her voice to her room. She was playing with her dolls on the floor but paused as the two of them entered. 

"You behave for your grandpa and uncle, alright?" Kyrie instructed. 

Aria nodded absently. "When will you be back?" Her eyes were wide and anxious. 

Nero leaned down to cup her cheek. "Before you know it, alright?" 

"You promise?" 

"Promise. Be good, okay?" 

"Okay." 

"Hey, little lady, what do you want for dinner, huh?" Dante prompted. 

He had her sitting on top of one of the kitchen counters, ignoring his older brother's protests that it was unsanitary. 

"You want some pizza?" He asked, poking at her sides. 

"Yeah!" She agreed enthusiastically. 

"Dante," Vergil said in that exasperated tone so often associated with his twin. "She's three. She needs nutrients, not grease." 

"Hey, I ate pizza all the time growing up!" 

"My point exactly," he smirked, his arms folded as he hovered behind Dante. 

"Your grandpa is just jealous that I'm the better-looking twin," Dante cooed. 

"We're identical, you imbecile." Vergil turned and began rooting in the fridge. "And she is going to eat the food that her parents specifically left for her," he said, his voice muffled. 

"You're no fun." 

"And you," he replied as he scooped up Aria with one arm, "are an overgrown child." 

Vergil sat Aria down in his lap at the table. They'd left the booster seat at home, and while Vergil could technically go and fetch it, it made a good excuse to 'coddle her' as Nero put it. But wasn't it Vergil's job to spoil his grandchild?  

He set the small red bowl of microwaved spaghetti in front of her. Aria instantly tried to grab some with her fingers, and so Vergil quickly moved the bowl out of her reach. 

"Fork, little one," he laughed. "And it'll be a little bit too hot for you right now. You'll have to blow on it first, or you'll burn your mouth." 

"Blow?" She asked, tilting her head curiously. 

"Like this," he demonstrated. 

When Vergil pulled the spaghetti back within her proximity, Aria obediently blew at it in an entirely over-the-top display. She puffed out her cheeks and blew breaths with great effort. Vergil chuckled, but left her to it.

"Pizza for us?" Dante offered. 

"I suppose so. Perhaps you can even feed her some if you insist. Half a slice, though, do you hear me? And only after she's finished her dinner." 

"Whatever you say, Sargent Hard-ass," Dante grinned as he walked over to make the call. 

Vergil rolled his eyes. 

"Safe now?" Aria asked. She held a forkful of pasta in her clumsy grip. 

"Should be." 

And monumentally less sanitary, but at least she was the only one eating it. 

"Thank goodness she's getting a bath," Dante commented as he returned to the kitchen. "She's gotten sauce everywhere." 

"Would you like to bathe her?" Vergil offered. "You always complain that I hog her attention, so I thought you'd appreciate it." 

"Give me the hard job, why don't you?" Then, "yeah, I'd like that. But pizza first!" 

"Alright," Dante said. "First slice of pizza ever. Smile!" He held up a camera in front of Aria as he handed over half a slice of cheese pizza. "Lady bought it for me, said I needed to commemorate things more. Course, she also added it to my tab." 

Her empty bowl had long since been discarded in the sink, along with her fork. Ari dutifully blew on her slice of pizza, before posting it into her mouth and chewing with a serious expression on her face. Dante snapped a photo, and then returned to his open box on the counter. 

"So, what do you think, kid?" Dante asked through a mouthful of his own slice. 

"More," Aria decided. 

It was late by the time Nero and Kyrie got back. It had been good to have some time to themselves, but they'd missed Aria. 

They opened the door to find her decked out in her pink pyjamas and curled up on the couch between her grandpa and great-uncle. She was fast asleep with her thumb tucked securely in her mouth. 

"Was she any trouble?" Kyrie whispered as she gently lifted Aria into her arms. 

"None at all," Vergil said. 

"That doesn't sound like her," Nero chuckled. 

"Yeah, she got pasta sauce all over herself and Vergil, including in her hair, got water everywhere when I tried to give her a bath, and I had to promise her a slice of pizza to get her to go to sleep."

"Dante, you didn't-" Nero started. 

Aria stirred at the sound of their voices and Nero internally cursed himself. "You're back?" She asked sleepily. 

"Just like I said," he stroked her red hair back. 

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" 

"I don't-" Nero started at the same time as Kyrie said "Alright." 

He didn't argue. He usually gave in to Kyrie. 

"Want me to get Bun-Bun?" He offered in resignation. 

Aria nodded. And so, the three of them fell into bed, with Aria clutching her stuffed rabbit to her chest in the middle. 

Chapter Text

"Hey, kiddo," Dante said breezily. He propped his feet up on the desk and held the receiver close to his ear. "How was the trip home, you alright?"

Vergil emerged to eavesdrop on the conversation. Ever the helicopter parent, that one. 

Nero made a distressed sound on the other end. "There were demons again. No one got hurt, I handled them, but they know where we are now. They were just... Waiting for us, almost. Luckily timing on our part I guess." 

"Anyone get hurt?" 

"Only the demons," Nero's laugh was fragile. 

Vergil frowned and inched closer at the news. 

"Atta boy. You handle them?" Dante asked. 

"Yeah," Nero said. He sounded tired. "But I can't help thinking what could've happened if we hadn't been out. Or if I hadn't been there. I've been lucky the last two times, but- God, Dante what happens if one day I'm not there to protect them?" 

The kid was starting to panic, that much was clear. His voice pitched up, getting higher and higher until the end of his sentence. 

"Nero? I need you to take a deep breath, alright, kid?" Dante said calmly. "Can you do that for me? In-" 

Nero took an unsteady breath. 

"-and out. And again. That's it. You feeling better?" 

"Yeah, I guess." 

"That's good. Listen, kiddo, you got nothing to worry about." 

"Dante, I gotta get stronger. I'm too weak, I- I need to be strong enough to protect them. I need more power," Nero's voice crackled on the other end. 

Dante's heart fell to his stomach. Every feeling he'd buried deep down rose like bile to the surface. He felt the prickle of Vergil's gaze on him, but he couldn't look at him. 

Dante's eyes flashed, "I am not doing this shit again, kid. You are not going down the same route as your dad, Nero." 

"Dante," Vergil hissed out a warning. 

Dante ignored him.

"What you need is to know that you don't gotta do this shit alone. You got me, Lady, Kyrie and your old man. You can rely on us to keep her safe, alright? I'm not losing another damn family member to some megalomaniac shit." 

Nero was quiet for a little bit. He was clearly taken aback. Dante hardly ever got serious and he'd never really scolded his nephew over anything. He was the fun uncle, keeping the kid in line was Vergil's job. 

"What do you mean like my dad?" Nero said eventually. 

"Don't you dare," Vergil warned. 

"We've never told you this, Nero, but before you came along, Vergil and I were always at each other's throats." 

"Dante, I swear," his older brother hissed. He inched closer with his hand on the hilt of his sword. 

"See, your dad was obsessed with power, with the idea that he could do everything alone-" 

"Hang up the phone right now! I'm serious, Dante," Vergil glared. 

Nero heard the 'tink' of summoned swords over the phone and pressed the receiver closer to his face. His clawed fingers were curled tightly into a fist. 

"Dad, stop!" Nero demanded, forcing his voice out louder so that Vergil could hear. 

"Nero, this is for your own good," Vergil argued. 

There was the sound of scuffling on the other end. 

"He's not a little kid anymore, Vergil. You don't get to control what he knows. If Nero wants to hear it, he has every right to. And, frankly, I think he deserves to know." 

"I'm his father, Dante!" 

"Yeah, and I'm his fucking uncle! You don't get to play that card just to win every fight. I care about him too." He took a deep breath to calm himself. "If you don't want to be here for this, you're welcome to leave." 

Vergil scoffed. 

Nero sighed and shifted, leaning his back against the wall. "Are you two done fighting?" 

"Yeah," Dante sounded out of breath. He moved his legs down from the table so that he was sitting in his chair properly. 

"Thank you. You're right, I deserve to know." 

"Your dad means well, he just... Gets a little overprotective," Dante said, eying him. 

Vergil avoided his gaze. 

"I'm pissed off, Dante. I have a right to know and he doesn't get to keep that from me. I can learn from those mistakes. My family got attacked and I wasn't prepared for it because he didn't think to tell me about the demon lord that's out for our blood or whatever." 

"Yeah," Dante said, because it was all he had. He twirled the phone cord in his index finger absently.  "He wants to speak to you, by the way." 

Dante held out the phone so that Vergil could hear. He hesitantly approached the receiver, with his lips already forming his son's name. 

"I don't want to speak to him," Nero said, the annoyance clear in his voice. "I'm sick of him withholding information that could be good for me because he's already decided that I can't handle the truth." 

Vergil tried to make it look as though the rejection hadn't phased him, but the speed with which he left the room spoke for itself. 

"I just- I need time. I need to process all of this shit," Nero said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Yeah," Dante said again. "Take care, kiddo." 

As Dante hung up the phone, he tried to ignore the sinking feeling that he was losing his family all over again.

Vergil shut himself in his room and tried to ignore the fact that Nero had slept there just last night. Kyrie had insisted on changing the sheets and tidying up. They'd all told her that it wasn't necessary, that they'd miss the ferry, but she wouldn't hear it. 

It didn't matter. The scent of Nero clung to every corner of his room. 

He opened the windows desperately. The cool air swept through his hair as he leaned out. 

They'd made progress, the two of them. After Aria's birth, Nero had gained a newfound appreciation for him. Vergil didn't need it, he'd raised Nero because he loved him, not with the expectation of gratitude. It'd warmed his heart, nonetheless. 

But he was losing Nero all over again. It was just like that night, all those years ago, when Nero had rejected him. Except, this time, they wouldn't make up. Nero didn't need saving anymore. At least, not from Vergil. Nero had been starting to understand that his father had only ever wanted what was best for him, so why did it feel like they were backtracking? 

He'd withheld that information for his own good, to protect him. Why couldn't they both understand that? 

And, so, Vergil did what he always did when he felt alone. If all he could ever rely on was himself, then he would have to get stronger. Vergil trained. 

Chapter Text

It was late evening and Dante was the only one in the shop. He was looking forward to his regularly scheduled Thursday night snooze session at his desk. Sadly, it was not to last. The door swung open, and Dante didn't have to open his eyes to identify where the clicking of boots against the floor came from. He squinted lazily through the gaps of the magazine on his face anyway. Lady paused to prop the Kalina Ann behind the door with a huff and began peeling off her gloves. She deposited them on the counter. 

"Back already?" Dante asked, his eyes closed once again. 

"Tell your brother to stop taking all of my jobs!" 

Dante sighed. Vergil had been in a mood ever since his fight with Nero. Granted, Vergil was usually in a mood when he was with Dante, but this was worse. 

"It's either he kills demons or he kills me." He was only half joking. "You take your pick."

Vergil was particular about everything and moaned at Dante for how he did most things, but there usually wasn't much heat behind it. Lately, however, his older brother had snapped at him over every little thing, and Dante's patience was wearing thin. 

Lady cocked her head to the side. 

"Oh, come on," Dante groaned at her. 

"Shh, I'm thinking about it."

Dante was not brave enough to actually throw the magazine at her, but he definitely thought about it. Lady began helping herself to one of the more expensive bottles on the liquor shelf in the background. 

She swirled the drink around in her hand and took a seat on Dante's desk with her back to him. "Speaking of which, what's gotten into him lately?" 

Dante stayed quiet, hoping against all hope that maybe his peaceful evening wasn't totally gone. 

"You never tell him I said this," Lady continued, glancing over at one of the grenades strapped to her threateningly. "But he's been less... Vergil ever since he came back." 

Dante scoffed. "You can say he's been nice."

"That would be a lie. Vergil's never exactly been nice. At least, not to either of us. Even you've got to admit that." 

Dante sighed. "It's... Complicated." 

Lady laughed without humour and unfolded her legs. "He's not even here and you're still defending him. Look, it's not my business, but he's been pretty shitty to you all week. Even I can see that." 

"You don't see everything, though."

"Dante-" 

"Look, it's just... You come and go. You're not here all the time. I know he can be a dick, but you're not here for all the times that he's not." 

"Yeah? And does that make up for the times that he is?" She turned to face him, her mismatched eyes boring into his. 

Dante dropped his gaze. Lady downed her glass. 

"Where is all of this coming from? You've never mentioned this before," Dante asks, although he isn't sure he wants to hear the answer. 

"Sometimes I think you're too forgiving, Dante. That's all." 

Lady was gone as quickly as she'd arrived, taking her stuff with her and leaving a confusing hurricane of emotions behind her. That was something both of them were good at: when things got too serious, it was easier to just leave. 

How long had she been thinking all of that?

The weight of his problems hung at his back like a shadow and formed a pit in his stomach. Nero tried to ignore the tightness in his chest by pushing it into the background. 

The basket of laundry damn near outweighed his issues as he hauled it down the passage against his hip. The voices of Kyrie and Aria passed through the gap in the door and he paused to smile at them. Maybe Dante had a point about him being a housewife. 

He made out their figures through the gap in the ill-fitted door frame and paused to observe them for a bit. Kyrie had her back to him as she worked on building a tower of blocks with her daughter. Aria giggled at something her mother had said. He could only half make out her face, but he remembered her smile enough to see it clearly. It was angelic, just like Kyrie's, but with the addition of dimples that he and Vergil shared. 

Vergil... 

As hard as he'd tried to ignore his feelings regarding the whole mess, they swirled around in his brain like uninvited guests. His thoughts were piranhas that nibbled away at his best attempts to distract himself. Nero moved on to the laundry room, shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge his musings.

Deposit clothes in the washing machine, and pull out the detergent drawer. Add a scoop of washing powder, Vergil didn't trust him with the truth and measure out a lid full of diluted fabric softener. Aria could've been hurt because his father had deliberately kept things from him, and closed the detergent drawer. God, why couldn't he stop thinking about it, close the door to the washing machine, and turn both dials. It was an old, second-hand thing, that started up loudly enough to startle him out of it.

Nero sighed and rubbed his face. Maybe a job would make him feel better? 

Nero only felt worse as he trudged him from what had, quite frankly, been a bit of a nightmare job. Hell Antenoras were tricky at the best of times, and one hell of an ordeal when dealing with them while distracted. They'd given almost as much as they'd gotten. Nero needed a better coat for jobs. It was more hole than fabric at this point. 

Kyrie gave him one look and declared, "You and your father need to talk." 

"But-" Nero frowned. 

She gave him a look and he folded. Kyrie didn't often put her foot down, but there was no swaying her when she did. 

"In person," she said sternly. "The two of you need to sort this out first thing in the morning." 

She may have been half his size, but that didn't mean she couldn't be intimidating. Even Vergil listened to her and he'd never seen Vergil concede to anyone before he'd met Kyrie. Her usually ethereal copper hair gave the illusion of hellfire when she was upset, and her angelic face morphed into that of an archangel. Nero supposed it was only fitting, considering how easily she kept devils in line. The famously foul-mouthed Dante minded his manners around her, and, hell, so did he. As strict as he tried to be with Aria, alas, she knew his weak points. Mainly that she was just so damn cute that it was hard to stay mad at her. He wasn't as bad as Dante, but still. 

Aria knew that out of her two parents, Nero was the softie and that Kyrie had a way of commanding respect without ever raising her voice. She could try her luck with her father, but never her mother. 

"Yes, ma'am," Nero said. 

Kyrie laughed. "You need a new jacket, something much sturdier. While you're sorting that out, Ari and I will look for something for you, alright?" 

He leaned down to accept her kiss on his cheek. She winced as she pulled back. 

"Sorry, stubble?" Nero asked. Kyrie nodded. "Perks of demon regeneration," he sighed. 

Nero called the shop and asked Dante to pass on the arrangement to Vergil. Then, he fell into bed next to Kyrie, trying his best not to think about the unpleasant conversation waiting for him in the morning. 

Chapter Text

"You don't trust me," Nero said the second Vergil arrived. 

They were in a clearing in Fortuna. "Neutral ground," Kyrie had said. There was also the unspoken implication that no furniture would be broken if the two of them started fighting here. Nero and Vergil didn't fight like Dante and Vergil did, but sometimes things could only be solved with a good sparring session. Nero always lost, but it didn't stop him from trying. 

The mid-morning breeze was already sweltering as it carried the humid ocean air towards them. What little grass covered the ground was yellow with dehydration, a typical trait of summer on the island. Summers here were not the dry-air, oven-like, baking heat that Nero experienced during his childhood in Redgrave, but they were stifling nonetheless. Tropical summers were sticky and claustrophobic. Nero was thankful that Aria had somewhat picked up on Kyrie's ability to tan. He could preach from personal experience the fact that being pale in such a hot climate did not make for a fun time.

"Nero, I've already told you that it has nothing to do with trust," Vergil sighed, sounding annoyed. 

Well, that made two of them. 

"You can say whatever you want," Nero began pacing. "Your actions show otherwise." 

"I didn't want to burden you with issues that may not come to pass." 

"Bullshit," Nero chuckled angrily. "You just decided I couldn't handle it. That was not your decision to make." 

"Nero-" 

"Don't. The fact of the matter is that if you'd just told me about some demon lord being after us, I would've been prepared. I'm not a little kid anymore, dad. You don't get to choose to keep things from me anymore just because you think I'm too young to know, or whatever." Nero waved his hands at him, animating his frustration. 

Vergil stood infuriatingly still with his arms crossed over his chest. "Clearly, you've already determined what my feelings are. I hardly see what the point of this discussion is." 

Nero stopped and looked at him, face displaying his hurt. "You've never done that to me before." 

"Done what?" Vergil asked, face impassive. His fingers tapped against his arms. 

"That shitty thing you do with Lady and Dante. Where you get all high and mighty to keep people at a distance." 

"I do not-" 

"Yes, you do. Just usually not to me." Nero sniffed forcibly and turned his face away. He willed his voice to be even. "This was stupid." It cracked anyway. "I don't know why I agreed to do this." 

Vergil unfolded his arms and leaned forward like he wanted to reach out. "Nero." 

Of course, that was what made the dam break. He scrubbed at his face in frustration, willing the tears away. "Fuck, I don't know why I'm crying. I'm angry with you." 

"You're hurt," his father said softly. 

"Well, yeah," Nero sniffed. 

"Nero, I- I didn't mean to make you think I didn't trust you," he said. Vergil was starting to sound more like the version of himself Nero recognised. 

"Yeah, well. You did." 

"I just wanted to protect you." 

"It wasn't your call to make!" Nero glared up at him through his tears. 

"I thought perhaps after Aria you'd understand-" 

"Don't bring her into this! You put her in danger because you decided I couldn't handle the truth!" He started crying harder, which only made him angrier. "I thought we were past this! I thought after the first attack, that we had an understanding. I figured you were done keeping things from me!" Nero wanted to punch something. "You know, maybe I'd get the after-school special about how the pursuit of power can lead you to some pretty unsavoury places. You didn't think I could learn from that? Maybe some happy lesson about how relying on others is good?" His voice was breaking and undercutting his argument and Nero hated it. 

Vergil said his name again and reached out for him. 

"Don't touch me! You know, maybe if you'd told me to keep my arm hidden, the whole Agnus situation never would've happened." Nero immediately paled, regretting the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. "That wasn't fair. I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't your fault." 

He always swore not to let his emotions get the best of him but it just kept happening. 

"It doesn't matter. It's true. If I hadn't pushed you so hard, you never would've left," his father's face was carefully blank, but the illusion was starting to crack. 

"No, it's not," Nero said as he wiped his face.  "If I hadn't run off-" 

"Nero," Vergil started slowly. He emphasised every word. "No matter what you did, what happened wasn't your fault." 

Nero let the words sink in, nodding as he processed them. His tears had finally dried up and he was feeling a hell of a lot better as he took in a shaky, steadying breath. "It wasn't yours either, alright? We both know who the blame goes to." 

"Hmm," was all Vergil said. He turned away from Nero, but Nero wasn't having that. 

It happened again, just like that night with Aria. Nero willed it, and Vergil was pulled towards him. To his credit, he didn't even yelp as a big blue spectral hand dragged him towards his son's open arms. Although he did have one hell of a bewildered expression. 

"Curious," Vergil mused. "Is this the ability that you were talking about?" 

"Yeah," Nero mumbled against his father's chest. 

"This seems to be uniquely yours. I can't say that I've ever encountered this." 

Nero didn't answer, he just hugged Vergil tighter. His father finally gave in with a sigh and returned the embrace. 

"You have your uncle's ridiculously forgiving nature." 

"Just... Promise me you'll be more open with me about things like this in the future, alright?" 

"Alright," Vergil agreed as he softly ran his fingers through Nero's hair. "There is, however, one thing that I will never tell you." 

"That being?" 

"If I said, that would be telling, wouldn't it?" Vergil hummed, amused. 

"It's not going to come back to bite us in the ass, right?" 

Vergil thought about it for a moment. "No. You have my word. This secret cannot harm you." 

The weather was already pretty dang hot to begin with, and nuzzling against the furnace that was his father was definitely not helping things. Nero couldn't find it in himself to care, though. As far as death by overheating went, this was pretty nice. 

"My Nero," Vergil said softly. "I never wanted to see you hurt." 

"I know. Think I'll call it my devil bringer," Nero chuckled. "My ability, I mean. Because it brought my devilishly stubborn father to his senses." 

Vergil laughed and pressed a kiss to his crown. "What a fitting name for my devilishly stubborn son and the trouble he brings." 

"Well?" Kyrie prompted as Nero returned home.

She was in the kitchen, ironing the clothes that he'd brought in from the washing line earlier this morning.  She smiled at him, instantly noting that he seemed lighter. Nero wrapped his arms around her. 

"You were right. Thank you." Nero kissed her softly, sweetly. "You're always right." 

"I hope so. Aria and I picked out that jacket I promised." 

Aria noted her cue and began running over to them on her little legs, carrying a big blue jacket over her head. She proudly presented it to him and Nero's reaction was genuine as he unfolded it and held it up to inspect it. He put it on instantly and then picked his daughter up and swung her around. 

"I love it, thank you." 

"I helped mommy pick it out for you!" She giggled. 

"Did you, now? You've got good taste, princess. It's perfect." 

And it was. A sturdy faux leather navy jacket with a hood. 

He held the two of them close, his little family forming a perfect picture. 

Chapter Text

The shop was quiet for once. Late nights, like other times, were usually filled with the sounds of Dante's endless energy: the dull thunk of darts hitting the board and a muted "damn, I'm hot!" whenever he got a bullseye, the sharp click of a cue hitting pool balls, followed by the noise of them falling into the net. Nights in Devil May Cry were hardly ever silent. 

Tonight must be the exception. 

Vergil wondered idly if his little brother was asleep already. It was late, though rest evaded him. Not for the usual reasons, however. No, nightmares were the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. Rather, there was the odd feeling that Vergil was forgetting something. A celebration, perhaps? But of what? Nero's birthday wasn't for another few months. Or rather, the date on which they celebrated Nero's birth. There hadn't been an exact date, only a general timeline. His mother hadn't exactly stopped to drop off his birth certificate when she'd abandoned him. 

Aria's had already passed. Vergil mused a little guiltily that he wasn't quite sure when Kyrie's was. He'd have to ask Nero in the morning. 

The door creaked open and Dante's scent filled the room. Vergil sat up in bed, a little annoyed at the intrusion. 

"What could you possibly want at three in the morning?" He grumbled. 

Dante only scoffed half-heartedly. "Geez, happy birthday to you too." He brought out a present from behind his back and held it out. The wrapping job could only be described as a train wreck. At least three different sheets of wrapping paper were stuck together with what appeared to be a whole roll of tape. "Though I guess you don't have to wish me for a few more minutes." 

'Happy Birthday Virgil' had been written on the package in faded blue ink. 

"You misspelled my name," Vergil commented as he inspected the gift. 

"C'mon, just open it already." 

Vergil surveyed the parcel in his hands, trying to find a way to peel it without tearing it. He always preferred to take his time with gifts, to unwrap them in such a way that left the paper intact. It always annoyed Dante on their birthday, he'd complain that Vergil took too long. Little Dante would be the lighthouse amongst a sea of gift wrap, while Vergil would still be on his first present.

It seemed that he'd finally found his match, however. There was nothing to do but rip. He resigned with a sigh and attacked the wrapping to reveal bits of brown and gold. 

A book. His book. The William Blake collection from his childhood, exact down to the embossed V on the spine. Vergil paused and stroked the spine reverently.  He'd gotten other William Blake collections over the years, specifically to read with Nero, but nothing could compare to the original. 

"Dante," he breathed. "How did you..." 

His twin smiled at him hesitantly and it was nothing like his usual cheesy grins. This expression was open, real. "You like it?" 

"Thank you," Vergil whispered. 

"Yeah? I may not have the best memory, as a rule, but the reason you so often didn't want to play with me is definitely branded into my mind," Dante chuckled.  

Vergil was still in awe as he examined the book. How had it not been lost in the fire? 

"Is it the same as you remember?" Dante said, not minding the silence. 

"Exactly," Vergil's voice was hushed. 

"Read me a bit?" 

Poetry was a private affair to Vergil. Especially Blake. He'd really only ever shared it with Nero, and even then, it had mostly been when his son had been too young to understand. So much of himself was in those pages. Dante might as well ask him to bear his very soul, and Vergil has never been much for sharing. 

But after a gift like that, how could he refuse? 

"I was angry with my friend; 

I told my wrath, my wrath did end," Vergil began. "I was angry with my foe: 

I told it not, my wrath did grow. 

And I water'd it in fears,

Night & morning with my tears: 

And I sunned it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles." 

Dante settled against Vergil's desk and closed his eyes as he listened. 

"And it grew both day and night. 

Till it bore an apple bright. 

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine. 

And into my garden stole, 

When the night had veild the pole; 

In the morning glad I see; 

My foe outstretched beneath the tree." 

" 'Poison Tree', huh? Like that thing about holding onto resentment being like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies from it?" Dante said. "That's the gist, right?" 

Vergil nodded, a tad surprised. "You're more astute than you let on." 

"Yeah, don't tell anybody. They'll start expecting me to be a brainiac all the time." 

Vergil smiled a little at that.

He'd opened that book to a random page, quite honestly, but how fitting it had been. Over thirty years had passed since he'd last held that book, and so much had happened since then. He'd once been driven only by bitterness, by the anger that he'd felt for Dante. Vergil had once thought that he was the only one he could ever trust, but his argument with Nero had shown him that he didn't want to be alone anymore. It amused him to speculate how his younger self would react to his current situation. With a great deal of scorn, no doubt. Though, wasn't that a sign of how much he'd grown? 

Vergil collected the scraps of gift wrap from his bed and put them on his bedside table, carefully catching stray pieces as they fluttered down towards the floor. Then, he stood up for the next part of the exchange. He internally thanked himself for his foresight as he unearthed a bundle from his dresser. He'd bought his usual gift for Dante in advance, though they weren't wrapped. 

"I believe at least six minutes have passed," he commented. "Happy birthday, little brother." 

Dante smiled as he held up the assortment of ridiculous shirts that Vergil had gotten him. It had become somewhat of a birthday tradition between them: Vergil attempted to find the most horrendous shirts possible, and Dante wore them anyway. His little brother's favourite this year was the one with garish cartoon strawberries on the front. He proudly pulled it on over his chest. It hardly seemed a fair trade, it was clear whose gift was better, though Dante couldn't have been happier. 

"Happy birthday, Verge," he smiled. 

Dante's words rung in Vergil's mind:'" but the reason you so often didn't want to play with me is definitely branded into my mind.'" 

A joke, clearly, but it stuck with him nonetheless. Vergil set the book down pointedly and turned to Dante. His twin had turned to leave, but stopped at his voice. 

"Tomorrow, would you... Perhaps like to spar? Like we used to? It's been a while." 

Dante's smile was radiant as he turned around. "You're gonna play with me instead of reading your book, you mean?" He teased. 

"We're grown men, Dante. We don't play," he scoffed half-heartedly. 

Dante splayed his hands in mock defeat," Hey, call it whatever you want, tough guy. It's still playing." 

Chapter Text

Things were still tense between the two of them. They'd made up, though the awkwardness between Nero and Vergil remained. It hung silently in the air. Hurt lingered, even after all had been said and done. The game of broken telephone was over for now, but how much had been lost in transit, how much had slipped between the cracks of their communication? It was so often the case in arguments between loved ones: how much had been said, and how much only felt? 

But now was not the time for that. Now was a time for celebration. 

"Grandpa!" Aria shrieked as soon as she spotted Vergil. He caught her in his arms and spun her around, earning an exclamation of delight from her. 

"Yeesh, no love for your Uncle Dante?" His little brother joked. 

He entered the front archway after Vergil, closing the door to Nero's house behind him. Kyrie had an open-door policy, insisting that the two of them were family, and that they were welcome to let themselves in at any time. 

"Is it your birthday today too?" Aria asked, shifting to give Dante a stern look over Vergil's arms. 

The white strands of hair that framed her face made her look somewhat more mature, though it wasn't enough to offset her adorably chubby cheeks. 

"It is, actually. We're twins." 

"Twins?" She asked, tilting her head curiously. 

Vergil put her down again. Aria was, in truth, a little too old to still be carried around so much. Though, the last one to suggest that Vergil spoiled her too much had met the business end of a summoned sword. 

"Yeah, it's like..." Dante wracked his brain. "Shit, I'm not really sure how to explain it, actually." A glare from Vergil soon helped him realise his mistake. "Shit! I'm not supposed to swear, right? Shit, sorry, I did it again. I mean, uh-" 

"Do keep digging, little brother," Vergil said dryly. "Your grave is almost ready." 

"You're lucky it's your birthday," Nero said to announce his presence. "It means I can't hit you for swearing in front of my daughter." 

"That, and no fighting in the house!" Kyrie called from another room. 

"Yeah, I promise!" Nero called back dutifully. 

"Good to see you too, kiddo," Dante laughed. 

Aria ran up to meet her father and frowned seriously up at him: "Did we get Uncle Dante a gift too? He's grandpa's twin," she informed him. 

"Yeah, it's alright," Nero smiled, leaning down to ruffle her hair. "We talked about that a bit ago, remember? You made him something too?" 

"Oh," she nodded sagely. "I'll get mommy to help me look." 

Nero shook his head in half-hearted exasperation. "I told you you'd lose them if you didn't put them somewhere special." 

But Aria was already running off in the direction of her room even as he spoke. 

"Little Lady's getting big, huh?" Dante smiled. 

It had been getting a bit too quiet and Vergil sure as hell wasn't gonna do anything about it. 

"Yeah," Nero said with a gentle smile. 

"You two managing alright? Can't believe my little nephew is all grown up with a kid of his own." 

Nero rubbed at his nose and ducked his head. He pretended to hate Dante getting all affectionate with him, but the kid was a terrible actor. "Can hardly keep up with her half the time. She's a little firecracker, that one." 

"Yeah? That certainly sounds familiar," he crossed the room to get Nero in a headlock. "Must get it from her father, huh?" 

"Quit it!" Nero grumbled. The protests were muffled behind Dante's arm. 

"What was that? Couldn't quite hear you there." 

Nero struggled in Dante's grip, his arms flailing as he tried to get a hold of his uncle to fight back.

"The way I see it, this is payback for all the sass you gave me when you were her age. Did you ever listen to me while I was on babysitting duty? Nooo, little punk only listened to Vergil," Dante sang teasingly. He ruffled Nero's hair roughly with his unoccupied hand. 

"Yeah, because you were the biggest pushover!" Nero protested. 

"Ohohoho, now you're in for it, kid." 

"Dad, help!"

Apparently, all it had taken was some roughhousing to completely eradicate the tension in the house. Sparring did certainly have its place. 

"I am helping. As my son, you shouldn't be defeated by such a dishonourable opponent. Where is your motivation, Nero?" 

"Oh, come on!" Nero said. 

"I believe in you, son." 

The three of them, totally enthralled in their mock battle, didn't even notice that Kyrie was there until she cleared her throat. It was comical how quickly they separated at the sound of her voice. 

"If you're not too busy, boys, I could use some help setting up for dinner," she smiled sweetly. 

Nero scrambled to her side immediately and began following after her. As soon as her back was turned, however, he mouthed a quick 'this isn't over' at Dante. 

It drew a smile even from Vergil. 

Six homemade pizzas and five full bellies later, Dante pushed his chair back with a satisfied groan. "You're too good to us, Kyrie. You've got to be the goddess of food." 

She smiled warmly up at him. "I'm just glad to see someone who enjoys my cooking as much as Nero." 

Vergil began helping her collect the dishes, forming them into a neat pile, and stood to help carry them over to the sink. 

"Please, sit. It's your birthday dinner," she insisted. 

"Are you sure?" It can't be easy cleaning up after my brother." 

Kyrie nodded with a laugh. "You always help with the chores when you're here. Take a day off, Mister Vergil." 

"Besides," Nero started. "It's time for gifts." 

Dante sat up to shoot his nephew an incredulous look. "The dinner wasn't the gift?" 

"Nah," Nero laughed. "Although that would've been a lot easier." 

"Seriously, s'all good, kiddo. The meal was more than enough." 

"Oh come on, you old fart. I'm excited for you to open these. In the meantime, Aria? You know what to do." 

Indeed she did. The little lady ran up to the two of them, holding out two bits of paper to each twin. She gave out the wrong ones on the first try, but it was easily fixed. Soon, each twin had their respective card, brightly decorated in smudged crayon. 

"World's Best Grandpa!" Was proudly announced in pink on Vergil's and "Gunckle Dante is the coolest!" on the other. 

"Alright," Nero announced as he descended the stairs. "Uncle Dante, you're first. Open the big one, first." 

He slid a rectangular box across the surface of the table towards his uncle. A present wrapped in red, of course. 

"Hope it's a pizza," Dante joked as he picked it up. 

"You just ate two," Vergil sighed. 

Dante ignored him in favour of ripping at the paper. 

His grin only widened as he spotted the Jack Daniels label on the front of the box. "Ah, kid. You spoil me." 

"Damn right, I do." 

"Seriously though, thanks." Dante smiled. 

Nero nodded. He made eye contact with Kyrie, who had returned from the kitchen, before handing out a small box. "Here's the next bit. Kyrie helped a lot with this one."

Dante opened the box to find a small, knitted cartoon strawberry attached to a keyring. 

"It was mostly her idea, actually," Nero said.  "We both thought it might be nice to carry something from us with you back home. You like it?" 

"Love it," Dante corrected. "You shouldn't have," his expression was soft as he looked up at Kyrie. "Thank you." 

"And, dad. Don't think we've forgotten about you," Nero said as he delicately extended a large blue gift towards Vergil. 

"Would you help me with this?" Vergil asked Aria. 

She didn't have to be asked twice. She stood up from her chair and attacked the wrapping paper with delight.  Until she revealed a dark instrument case beneath. 

"Thank you, little one," Vergil said, kissing the top of her head. 

Then, he laid the case on the table and carefully pried it open. A violin lay cushioned against a blue velvet interior. 

"Nero, this is..." He breathed. 

"I remembered you said you used to play, back when you taught me all those years ago. It's kinda what got me and Kiri together, so when I saw it in a store window, I just had to." Nero sounded a little embarrassed as he spoke. "Is... Is it okay? It's secondhand, but I figured-" 

Vergil engulfed him in a hug, startling Nero into silence. "It's perfect, thank you, Nero." 

"Yeah?" He smiled tentatively as they separated. 

"I've kinda neglected my practice," Nero laughed. "But maybe you could play us something?" 

Vergil opened a compartment in the case, and, as he'd suspected, pulled out some rosin from where it'd been tucked away He smoothed a fresh coat over the bow, tucked the instrument under his chin, and drew out a soft, sweet melody with the draw of his hand. He was showing off a little if he was honest. The vibrato was a tad unnecessary, but it was worth it for the look of awe on Aria's face. Maybe she'd let Vergil teach her, as he'd once taught Nero. 

But, for now, it was late, and the little madam was up long past her bedtime. 

"Kyrie?" Vergil said as she began carrying her sleepy daughter off to bed. "Thank you. It's been a while since we've celebrated like this." 

Her smile was genuine as she glanced at him over her shoulder. "You're very welcome, Mister Vergil."