Work Text:
They’d been ignoring each other for the better part of the day.
Even with Mother calling them to dinner, Dante had refused to budge from their room. He stayed huddled on his bed, firmly on his side of the room, his back against the wall, limbs frozen stiff. All the lights were off. A faint trace of sunlight crept in between the curtains, which were drawn tightly shut.
What had they even argued over?
It didn’t matter—only that Vergil, his twin, hated him.
They always argued. Dante was always chasing after him, begging to play together, hungry for his attention. Energetic and extroverted, whereas Vergil preferred having his nose stuck in a book.
They fought over their belongings, being at once two parts of the same whole and yet distinct.
They were as close as could be, and that naturally led to friction.
Vergil, annoyed by Dante’s pestering, had finally snapped at him earlier that afternoon.
“I hate you! You’re so annoying!”
And Dante, struck dumb by his outburst, had turned tail and ran back into the mansion without saying a word.
Vergil had not followed. He hadn’t cared how much Dante had hurt, only that he’d stopped bothering him.
So Dante had stayed like that, shut up in their room. Trapped in a cycle of self-loathing for hours while the afternoon grew long.
The thoughts tumbled around in his head painfully.
If he were a better little brother, if he were less of a pest.
“Dante!” Mother called again, her voice echoing down the hallway. No reply. He burrowed his face deeper into his arms, covering his ears, and dug his nails into his sleeves.
Through the door, he heard faint steps approaching. Too light and fast to be Mother’s.
…Vergil?
Dante didn’t want to face him or his disdain. His earlier words still echoed and stung.
…hate you!...
The steps came to a halt just outside. A faint scuffling could be heard. Then banging on the door.
“Stop moping, Dante.”
Still no reply.
Dante ignored him. He stared fixedly at the ground through the gap between his arms. Counting the fibres in the carpet.
He shifted his weight slightly. The bed creaked beneath him.
More banging. Louder, this time. The door shook on its hinges.
“I know you can hear me.”
“Go ‘way.”
Vergil pounded the door even harder .
“Open up, Dante, or I’m coming in.”
“I said go away!” Dante cried. He punched his pillow in frustration and let out a muffled sob. The knuckles of his fists ached from being clenched for too long.
“Dante…”
Vergil’s voice was softer now.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
Dante flopped off the bed with a whumpf and nearly tripped on the blanket he’d been curled up in. He rubbed at his eyes, still sore from crying. He stumbled to the door and cracked it open.
Light streamed in from the hallway. There, standing outside, was Vergil.
“You mean it…?”
Vergil paused in the doorway, taking Dante in. He surely looked a mess.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Dante’s breath hitched. He surged forward to catch Vergil in his arms, nearly sending them both crashing to the floor.
“I thought you hated me!”
Dante’s arms trembled around Vergil, but he didn’t push him away. Vergil placed his arms carefully around Dante, holding him in a secure hug.
“I don’t hate you, Dante.” Vergil rested his hand soothingly at Dante’s back. “I shouldn’t have said that. Come on…let’s get you cleaned up. Mother’s waiting.”
Vergil pulled him towards the bathroom. Taking a towel in his hand, Vergil wet it in the sink and gently patted Dante’s face with it. Brushing his tears away and tidying his disheveled hair.
Dante sat perched on the closed lid of the toilet.
“Hey…”
Vergil peered at him with a scrutinizing look. “What is it, Dante?”
“I shouldn’t have bothered you like that. I pushed too much.”
Vergil knelt on the tiled floor before Dante, and took his hand gently in his.
“And I shouldn’t have been so short with you. We might fight sometimes, but remember this, Dante: we are brothers. Nothing can change that.”
A grin broke across Dante’s face.
“Yes, that’s right! I love you too, brother!” He hopped off the toilet lid, pulling Vergil back to his feet with him.
Vergil scoffed at his enthusiasm, but Dante could tell that he was just being shy again.
“Come on, race you!” Dante shouted. “Winner gets the loser’s dessert!” And off he tore into the hall.
Dante heard Vergil shout after him, but he didn’t need to look back.
He knew his brother would be following close behind him.