Archive of Our Own

Nero gasped for air as he shot open his eyes, his small body jolting upright like something had yanked him out of sleep. His heart hammered against his ribs, each breath coming in short, uneven pulls that made his chest ache. For several seconds, he couldn't tell where he was, only that the fear was still wrapped tight around him, refusing to let go.

The room slowly came into focus.

Moonlight spilt through the narrow window, painting pale stripes across the wooden floor and the edge of the bed. Shadows stretched along the walls, warped by the darkness into shapes that made his stomach twist. Nero squeezed the blanket in his fists, knuckles whitening as the images from the nightmare lingered.

Fire licking up stone walls. A screaming wind…

A towering shape watching him without a face.

He whimpered and shook his head, trying to chase it away, but his chest only tightened more.

"I don't like this…" He whispered to the dark.

His eyes burned, tears spilling over as he curled in on himself, knees drawn up to his chest. The house was too quiet, every creak and distant groan sounding louder than it should have.

Nero sucked in a sharp breath as faint blue specks flickered along his forearm, like sparks under his skin. It didn't hurt, not really, but it scared him every time it happened. He grabbed his arm with his other hand, holding it close to his chest like that might make it stop.

"It's okay," he muttered, even though it didn't feel like it was.

The blue faded, leaving his arm still and normal again, but his heart continued to race. He swallowed hard and glanced toward the door, the dark hallway beyond it feeling impossibly far away.

"Dad?" He called.

There wasn't any response. But Nero expected that. His Dad looked a bit more tired than usual when he picked him up from school today. They played for a bit, and then Dad made sure he had pasta for dinner and helped him finish his homework before tucking him into bed.

Nero didn't want to wake him up. He wanted his Dad to have a good night's sleep. But…

"Daddy," he tried once more, his voice a little louder this time, shaky around the edges.

A soft noise came from the hallway, almost too quiet to notice at first. But he was told his hearing wasn't like the others. That was what Dad said, and that he shouldn't worry about it. It was going to make him strong in the future!

He held his breath, listening, his heart pounding even harder than before. The sound came back. Measured footsteps moving closer, unhurried and familiar.

The door was carefully pushed open, letting a thin line of light spill across the floor.

"Nero?"

Vergil stood in the doorway, his tall frame filling the space, his gaze immediately settling on the bed. His hair was loose, and his dark blue pyjama sleeves were rolled just enough to suggest he'd been pulled away from something mid-sleep.

Relief hit all at once. Nero pushed himself upright, tears streaking down his cheeks as he reached out without thinking. "…I couldn't sleep. There was fire, and something big, and my arm did the thing again."

Nero watched as Vergil adjusted the light switch in his room, putting it on and dimming it just enough for comfort. He then crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside him, the mattress dipping under his weight. Up close, Vergil looked tired in a way Nero didn't notice during the day, the sharp lines of his face softened by the low light and the looseness of his posture.

"It's all right," Vergil whispered. "It was just a dream, Nero."

Nero sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. "I didn't like it. The fire was everywhere, and I couldn't find you."

He felt his father shift closer, and then he was lifted onto his lap. The boy immediately buried his face against his shoulder and clutched at the fabric of his sleeve like it could keep the nightmare away. Dad always smelled nice, and he was warm. His hugs were the best because Nero was protected and safe.

"I know," Vergil murmured, one arm secured around Nero's back while the other rested between his shoulders. His voice was so soothing, the kind he only ever used with him. "Nightmares can feel very real when you're in them. That doesn't mean they can take you."

Nero nodded, his breathing uneven but eventually starting to calm as Vergil rubbed his back in slow, steady motions. The ache in his chest eased little by little, replaced by the familiar comfort of being held.

"You did the right thing by calling for me," Vergil continued. "My brave little prince."

He stayed like that for a while, just listening to the steady rise and fall of the older man's breathing. The fear loosened its grip, leaving behind a heavy, sleepy ache in its wake. His fingers relaxed in Dad's sleeve, though he didn't let go completely.

"…Daddy?"

"Yes?"

Nero shifted, clearly working up the courage to say it. "Can I… um. C-Can I sleep in your room tonight?" He pulled back just enough to glance up at him, eyes wide and unsure. "Just for tonight."

"I thought you were a big boy," Vergil said, a faint hint of teasing in his voice.

"I am a big boy!" Nero protested, sudden and earnest, sitting up straighter in Vergil's lap. His brows furrowed in determination. "I eat all of the vegetables you give me, and I do my homework, and I don't cry at school anymore."

"That does sound like a very big boy," Vergil hummed.

Nero hesitated, shoulders drooping. "Big boys can still get scared sometimes," he said. "Right?"

Vergil's expression softened even further. He lifted a hand and brushed Nero's hair back from his eyes. "They can."

Relaxing under his touch, Nero felt the tension loosen. "So… can I?"

There was another smile that tugged his father's lips as he used his thumb to wipe away the rest of his tears. "I assume you'd want a warm glass of milk and for me to read to you as well?"

Nero hid his face in Vergil's chest before pouting up at him, pink dusting his cheeks. "Please?"

His father let out an almost soundless snort as he laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest where Nero was pressed. "You drive a hard bargain," he said, shifting his grip so he could stand while keeping Nero against him. "Very well. I suppose I can be persuaded."

Nero beamed, the last of the fear melting away as Vergil carried him out into the hallway. It was cold now that he was away from his bed, but his father radiated enough warmth instead.

"Daddy?" Nero murmured, eyes half-lidded.

"Hm?"

"Thank you for coming. Even though you were tired."

He felt Dad press his lips against his head, an action that always made him smile. "Always, Nero."

"Yamato, do you know how strong my dad is?"

He lay flat on his back on the living room carpet, arms spread out like a fallen starfish, blue eyes fixed on the ceiling above him. From this angle, everything was strange and kind of upside down, like the world had flipped while he wasn't looking. The couch loomed over him to his right, and Yamato stood just beside it, carefully propped where his father always left it.

Nero wasn't supposed to be this close to it. Dad said the sword wasn't a toy, that it was dangerous and that Nero was still too little to touch it.

But Yamato never felt scary to him.

The faint sound of water rushing through pipes echoed from upstairs. Dad was still in the shower. Nero scooted just a tiny bit closer, until his shoulder almost brushed the sheath.

"He's the strongest," Nero went on earnestly. "Like… the strongest strongest. Nobody at school has a dad like mine."

A soft blue glow bloomed along Yamato's sheath.

Nero's lips parted in a smile. "You think so?"

The light pulsed once, warm and slow.

He giggled. "He's really good at fighting. And he never gets tired. And he always knows when I'm scared, even if I don't say it."

The glow shimmered again, slightly brighter this time.

"I wanna be like him someday," Nero whispered, suddenly shy. "Strong enough so I don't have to be scared anymore. And so I can protect him too!"

The light steadied, calm and proud.

Nero turned his head toward the sword, eyes shining. "Do you think I can?" He asked. "Even if I'm little now?"

Yamato flared gently, almost encouraging.

He beamed. "Yeah. I think so too!"

Carefully, very carefully, he lifted one small hand and let his fingers hover near the sheath, not quite touching. Just close enough to feel safe.

"You won't tell Dad I said that, right? He worries about me a lot."

Yamato flickered, seeming to be amused.

Nero smiled and then froze.

The sound of footsteps came from the stairs.

Uh-oh.

His head tilted, and from his upside-down view, a familiar figure loomed just above him.

From Nero's perspective, his dad looked like he was hanging from the ceiling.

Nero smiled up at him, small and innocent, with hands folded on his tummy. "Hi, Daddy."

Vergil's sharp blue gaze flicked from Nero to the sword, then back again.

"…Nero," he said evenly. "Why are you on the floor?"

Nero's hands went up and clasped together on his chest. "I was just laying," he said. "The carpet's comfy."

Vergil's brow lifted a fraction. "And Yamato?"

The boy glanced at the sword, then back at his upside-down dad. "…Yamato was talking to me," he admitted in a tiny voice.

"Talking…" Vergil repeated.

Nero nodded, then hurried to add, "Not with words! Just glowing. I didn't touch it. Promise." He held up both hands to prove it. "I just told her how strong you are."

That made Vergil pause. "You did?"

"Mhm," Nero said, confidence returning. "I said I wanna be strong like you someday. So I can protect people too!"

His father continued to look down at him for a moment, silent. From here, his frown looked like a silly smiley face. But then he realised his dad was actually frowning and that he might be in big trouble.

Vergil sighed and crouched down as he lowered to one knee beside him. He looked more funny like this now, especially because he was smiling, which looked like a frown. "When you're older, I will teach you how to use her."

He blinked. "You will?"

"Yes, my little prince," Vergil said and gently poked his forehead. "Strength is about power, but it is also about restraint. And knowing when not to draw your blade."

Nero thought about that very seriously. "…I can do that," he said after a moment.

Vergil's smile widened even more. "Good." He stood and motioned him to do the same. "Now, up you get. I have your bath prepared."

"Bath time already?" Nero whined, pouting up at his dad from the carpet. His little body twisted a bit, hands gripping the fibres as if he could plant himself there and stay forever. "I'm comfy," he added, pressing his cheek against the floor for emphasis. "My legs are tired."

"You have been lying there for twenty minutes."

"That's a long time. It makes you reeeeeally tired!"

"Hm." Vergil tapped his foot once. "Be that as it may, you still need to bathe."

Nero let out a dramatic groan and rolled onto his stomach, face squished into the carpet. "But I don't wanna. I'm too lazy. Can't I just… skip it?" He peeked up at his dad through one eye. "Just today?"

Vergil's lips twitched, showing more beginnings of an amused smile. "If you do not bathe, you will not be allowed chocolate cake for dessert tonight."

There was a beat of silence.

Nero's head snapped up so fast it was a wonder he didn't give himself whiplash. His blue eyes went wide, sparkling like he'd just heard the best news ever!

"…Chocolate cake?!" He repeated, voice shooting up an octave.

"Yes."

"The one with the squishy middle?" Nero asked, already pushing himself halfway upright.

"The very one," Vergil confirmed.

"And the chocolate frosting on top?" Nero scrambled to his feet now, wobbling as he stared up at him. "And the little crunchy bits?"

Vergil raised an eyebrow. "Provided you are clean."

Nero gasped, clutching his chest. "That's my favourite!"

"I am aware."

He looked between the stairs and the kitchen like he was calculating something very serious. Then he nodded hard. "Okay. Okay! I'll bath. I'll bath really good!" Nero marched two determined steps toward the stairs, then stopped and glanced back with a narrowed gaze. "…You're not tricking me, right?"

"I would never trick you about cake."

Nero beamed… before suddenly flopping back down onto the carpet again.

Vergil blinked. "Nero?"

"I'm getting up! Just… one more second."

Vergil sighed and finally bent down, scooping him up with ease. Nero yelped in surprise and then giggled, arms looping around his dad's neck.

"Hey! I was gonna do it myself!"

"You had your chance," Vergil replied as he started toward the stairs. "Consider this motivation."

Nero laughed. "After bath time," he reminded him, "We're having chocolate cake!"

"Mm. After bath time."

"Yay!"

"And perhaps after a haircut."

"Whaaat?" Nero complained. "But I like my hair the way it is!"

"It'll only be a trim," Vergil mused as he brushed a hand through his locks. "Enough so it doesn't get in the way of your eyes."

Nero thought on it for a moment before letting out a huff. "Fine…" He conceded but then said, "But not too much, okay? I like doing this sometimes!" The boy swept some of his hair back, so it looked like Vergil's. "'Cause your hair's really cool, Dad!" Nero stated, and he felt his father stop walking.

He looked up at him, still holding his hair back the way he did, waiting. Then Dad smiled, really smiled, and it made Nero's chest feel warm and fuzzy all at once.

"…Is that so," Vergil said.

Nero nodded quickly. "Mhm! Because you look the strongest!"

A soft huff of a laugh vibrated through him as Vergil adjusted his grip, holding Nero closer. "Then I'll make sure to leave satisfactory results."

That made Nero grin. He relaxed against his dad's shoulder, feeling proud. Dad's hand brushed gently through his hair, careful and warm.

He didn't mind the bath so much anymore.

"Hood up, Nero."

Nero obeyed, copying his dad as he pulled his cloak's hood over his head. He didn't like wearing it, but everyone in Fortuna wore it outside. He tugged the hood forward until it nearly dipped over his eyes, then peeked out from under it with a small huff. "It's itchy," he complained, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the fabric.

"It is practical," Vergil replied, adjusting his own cloak with precise movements before extending his hand out to him. "I'll get you a new cloak soon."

"Okay," Nero said, smiling as he took his father's hand. They started making the walk towards the market, where vendors were selling fruits, vegetables, among other things. "Are we getting bread from the breadman too?"

"Yes."

"And the apples from the apple lady?"

"That’s right."

"And…" He gasped. "The place with the cheese that smells funny?"

Vergil exhaled through his nose. "Unfortunately. Though it's the cheese we use for your favourite pasta, so the smell goes away once it's cooked."

"Mhm!" Nero grinned, satisfied, and skipped a step ahead before remembering himself and slowing back down to stay close. The street grew busier the farther they went. Voices overlapping, footsteps echoing, the distant clatter of crates being moved. Nero's head swivelled back and forth, taking everything in.

"Whoa…" Nero's eyes widened. "It's louder at night."

"People are less guarded when they believe they are unseen," Vergil said.

Nero nodded like that made perfect sense, and then pointed. "Dad! Look! The bread man!"

A broad-shouldered man waved from behind a stall stacked high with golden loaves. "Evenin'," he called. His eyes softened when they landed on Nero. "And you brought your little shadow with you again, eh?"

"Hi, Mister Bread Man!" Nero beamed back at him and then looked at his dad, who smiled and nodded. Nero brought up two fingers to show the bread man. "Could we have two loaves?" He asked and then remembered his manners. "Please?"

"And one sweet roll."

Nero blinked over to his father.

"For after dinner," Vergil added before Nero could ask.

"That's okay!" Nero said, bouncing on his heels. "I can wait."

They moved from stall to stall after that. Cheese was wrapped in cloth, and his father was able to get the other food and ingredients, too. Nero was allowed to choose one of the apples himself, poking each one thoughtfully before selecting the shiniest.

"This one," he declared, holding it up.

Vergil accepted it without comment and paid for it. "What do we say, Nero?"

Nero watched as the elderly lady packed the apples into a paper bag and handed them to him. He blushed underneath the lady's smile, using his finger to scratch the bridge of his nose as he took it. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome, Nero!" She laughed and looked between him and his dad. "Such bright eyes you always have, hm?"

He looked up at Vergil, then back at her. "I got them from my daddy!"

Her smile widened. "Of course you did!" She waved at them. "Take care of yourselves now."

Waving back at her, Nero grabbed Vergil's hand again as they began making their way out. The apple lady was always so kind, and the bread man too! They would always give extras, which was nice. And Nero would find sweets at the bottom! He loved sweets, even if his dad regulated his sugar intake.

Nero beamed at the sweets he managed to see inside the bag before hearing a scoff. His ears twitched under his hood, and he turned around to find a pair of disgusted eyes looking at him.

A man stood a short distance away, half-hidden by the crowd. He was fixed on Nero, looking sharp and sour, his mouth twisting as he'd bitten into something bitter. It was enough to make his little stomach drop.

Nero flinched and instinctively leaned closer to Vergil, fingers tightening around his sleeve. "…Dad."

His dad was already looking. His head had turned just enough beneath his hood, eyes locking onto the man with chilling precision.

The man stiffened. Whatever expression he'd been wearing had cracked. His eyes widened, shoulders pulling inward as if he'd suddenly realised he was very much outmatched. He broke eye contact first, muttered something under his breath, and hurried away into the crowd, head down and steps quick.

Nero watched him go, blinking in quiet surprise.

"…He left."

"He did," Vergil replied, already turning his attention back to Nero.

They continued walking, but Nero stayed closer now, their hands brushing before he reached out and held on properly. The market noise faded as they moved farther from the stalls, lantern light giving way to darker streets.

Nero was quiet for a while.

He stared down at the stoned-patterned ground, shoes nudging at small stones as he walked. His thoughts wandered back to school, to the looks he sometimes got, the whispers about his hair being too white or too strange. He lifted a hand and touched a strand of silver, frowning.

"…Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't some people like us?" He hesitated, then added in a meek tone, "Is it 'cause our hair's weird?"

Vergil slowed, his stride growing more measured. For a moment, he didn't answer at all, and Nero worried he'd said something wrong. He peeked up at him, searching his face.

His dad's face had gone thoughtful, distant in a way Nero recognised. Like when he was thinking very hard about something important. Finally, he spoke. "Some people fear what they do not understand," he explained. "Others resent what reminds them of their own weakness."

Nero blinked. He didn't fully get that, but it really sounded important.

"So… they're just being mean?"

Vergil's lips curved faintly. "In simpler terms," he said, "They are fools."

That made Nero smile just a bit more.

Vergil looked down at him then, his tone lowering just enough to feel private. "What matters is this. No matter what they think: I will not allow anyone to harm you."

Nero's chest warmed at that, the knot inside him loosening. If Dad said it like that, then he knew it had to be true. He nodded, satisfied.

Their walk back home grew quieter. Nero hummed to himself, swinging their joined hands once before letting them settle.

Nero took two more steps before realising his dad wasn't moving anymore. He looked back, confused. "Dad?"

Vergil set the grocery bags down at his feet. "Close your eyes and cover your ears."

"What?" Nero blinked. "Why-"

"Now, Nero."

Nero knew from that tone he wasn't supposed to argue. Vergil glanced down at him, and though his expression wasn't angry, it sharpened in a way that made his spine straighten instantly. He swallowed. "…O-Okay."

He did as he was told, closing his eyes shut and clamping his hands over his ears, hood slipping forward as he hunched down. Darkness filled his vision, warm fabric and his own fingers blocking everything out. His heart started beating faster anyway, because even without seeing or hearing, he felt how the air had changed.

His dad was moving. Boots on stone. Step, step, step. Close, but not too close.

And then shhhk!

That was Yamato!

Nero squeezed harder on his eyes and ears. He didn't want to see. He didn't want to hear. But he could feel it. The sword in his dad's hand. The air was moving fast. Fast, fast, fast! Like a big whoosh! And then zing! Something got hit, far away, but he felt it in his tummy.

Dad is fighting something… scary… but he's not scared.

Another zing! It was closer this time, and Nero's heart jumped. He could feel the sword's power, like it was dancing in circles.

And then… quiet.

Nero opened his eyes and slowly let his hands drop. Everything looked normal. No scary shadows. No growly things. Just… Dad, standing there with Yamato back in its sheath like nothing had happened.

"A-Are they gone?" Nero whispered.

"They're gone."

Nero stared up at him, heart thudding. "…Were those demons?"

Vergil considered him for a moment, then nodded once.

"Oh." Nero paused and then frowned. "They were gonna hurt people?"

Vergil knelt in front of him, meeting his eyes at the same level. "Yes, but they will not trouble anyone again." He brushed his hand against Nero's cheek. "Especially you, my little prince."

He nodded, though his fingers crept forward to clutch at Vergil's sleeve anyway. "You're really strong."

Vergil's gaze softened just a fraction. He placed a hand over Nero's smaller one. "And you listened. That is just as important."

Nero puffed up at that, pride warming his chest. "I did good?"

"You did very good."

Grinning, Nero watched Vergil pick up the rest of the groceries in one arm. Then he beckoned him over with the other. Nero quickly wrapped his arms around his neck as he was lifted up. A minute later, he was able to hear his dad's purring from his chest.

Nero smiled at the sound, cheek pressed against his dad's collar. The rumble was steady and warm, like being wrapped in a blanket from the inside. "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"You're purring."

Vergil paused for half a step. "…Am I."

"Mhm," Nero nodded, even though his dad couldn't see it. "You do it when everything's okay." He yawned, words starting to get slow around the edges. "Like when you read to me… or when I fall asleep on you."

There was a brief silence. Then Vergil resumed walking, his grip adjusting minutely to keep Nero secure. "It's merely a habit."

Nero hummed, his shoulders shaking as a giggle threatened past his lips. He could tell his dad was embarrassed. "I like it. It makes me happy!"

His dad didn't say anything else, but Nero felt his arm tighten around him once more, and then his lips pressed against his temple. Nero's chest vibrated at the feeling, and he let out a contented sigh.

They walked on like that for a bit, the only sounds the soft scuff of boots on stone and the gentle rustle of fabric as Vergil moved. Nero's thoughts drifted, slow and sleepy, but one thing kept poking at him, tapping at the back of his mind until he couldn't ignore it anymore.

"…Daddy?"

"Mm?"

Nero hesitated. He stared at the edge of the forest as it passed beneath them, watching shadows stretch and shrink under the lantern light. "When the demons came just now…" He paused, choosing his words carefully in the way he always did when something sounded big. "You were there really fast."

"I was," Vergil said.

"And you made them go away," Nero continued. "You always do." He swallowed. "But… what if they come back again? Or more of them? Like… lots more."

Vergil slowed, not stopping this time, but his steps grew more aware. His arm shifted, holding Nero just a bit closer. "They will not reach you."

Nero nodded, but his brows furrowed. "But… will you always be there?" He asked, voice small now. "Like… if I'm not right next to you. Or if I'm asleep. Or if I can't see you." He glanced up at him, eyes wide and searching. "Will you still come?"

His father suddenly levelled him with a serious look. That kind of look would make others cower, but to Nero, he could see the hard wave of determination settling there.

"As long as I draw breath," he said, "I will be there for you."

Nero's chest was warm again, fuller this time. He leaned forward without thinking and pressed his forehead gently against his dad's jaw. "Promise?" He murmured.

The sound Vergil let out was a soft, unmistakable laugh. It was brief, more a warm breath of amusement than anything loud, but Nero felt it.

"Yes," Vergil said. He shifted Nero higher on his arm and rested his cheek in his hair. "I promise, Nero."

Nero smiled as the beginnings of sleep consumed his body.

Smoke burned Nero's throat as he ran.

His shoes pounded on the hallway floor, too loud, echoing off walls that were already blackening with soot. The fire crawled along the ceiling like something alive, orange and hungry, spitting sparks that rained down around him. Every turn he took felt wrong. Every corner had shadows that moved.

They're everywhere.

"Dad!" Nero cried. "Daddy!"

No answer. Just the roar of fire and the distant screeching laughter of demons.

Everyone else was gone. Teachers, other kids, gone. He'd seen them being rushed outside earlier, alarms screaming, adults shouting. Someone had tried to grab him, too, but then the demons had come crashing through the windows and were looking right at him.

Because of his arm.

Nero's chest hitched as tears blurred his vision. His arm burned hot and wrong, shining beneath his sleeve like it was panicking with him. He clutched it as he ran, sobbing now, breath coming in sharp little gasps.

"I want my dad," he cried helplessly. "I want my daddy!"

A demon dropped from the ceiling ahead of him.

Nero gasped and skidded, turning on his heel and sprinting the other way. Fire blocked one stairwell. Another hallway was already collapsing. Heat pressed in on him from all sides, squeezing, squeezing…

He darted into the first open door he saw and slammed it shut behind him. The room was empty. Desks overturned. Papers scattered. Windows rattling from the heat outside.

He scrambled to the corner and curled in on himself, knees pulled tight to his chest. Smoke slid under the door, thick and grey, filling the room fast. His eyes stung so badly he squeezed them shut and clamped his hands over his ears, just like he'd been told to do before.

"Daddy, please come get me," Nero whimpered, "I'm scared. I don't like it. I don't like it-"

It was just like in the nightmare.

The fire. The demons. Being alone.

Only this time, it didn't fade when he cried.

He sobbed openly now, calling for his dad over and over, his voice getting hoarse. His arm throbbed, glowing brighter with every second, like it was screaming too.

He wanted his dad's warm hugs, he wanted his dad whispering into his ear, saying everything was going to be okay and that he would always be there.

Daddy, where are you?

You promised!

Nero clenched his teeth in despair and continued letting the tears wet his cheeks.

You promised… you promised…

Three demons crowded the doorway, their eyes glowing, teeth sharp and wet. Firelight flickered over their twisted faces as they sniffed the air.

"Well, lookie here," one of them rasped, grinning wide. "One of Sparda's scum had a little nestling. How adorable."

"Screw you!" Nero stood up and threw one of the pencil jars at them. The jar shattered uselessly against the wall, pencils clattering to the floor. The demons laughed, low and cruel, stepping closer as smoke curled around their legs.

"Oh-ho," another crooned. "Feisty thing!"

Nero backed away, heart slamming so hard it hurt. "S–Stay away!" He cried, turning and bolting for the other side of the room.

Too slow.

They lunged.

Nero looked back just in time to see claws reaching for him-

…and then the world turned blue.

A flash like lightning split the room apart.

In the blink of an eye, the demons were cut into pieces, their bodies falling away in wet, smoking chunks that hit the floor with dull thuds. Blood splattered the walls. The fire recoiled like it had been struck.

Nero stilled.

His arm burned bright, and his heart felt like it might burst out of his chest as his eyes locked onto the figure standing between him and the carnage.

A demon.

Tall. Blue. Horns curling back with its wings folding in. Its back was to him, sword still humming in its hand as it turned slightly, checking that nothing else was moving.

Nero couldn't breathe.

This one… this one was stronger. Stronger than all of them.

It was going to kill him too.

Nero took a shaky step back, his arm flaring again.

No, no, no…

It wasn't until the glow of his arm matched the glow that the demon was holding in its right hand.

Long. Elegant. Familiar in a way that made his chest ache in relief.

"…Y-Yamato?" He whispered.

The demon finally turned around.

Nero's eyes widened, tears spilling over as the pieces clicked together in his head. "D… Dad?"

Before he could say anything else, the fire surged again, heat roaring through the shattered window. The blue demon moved without a second to spare, crossing the room in a blur and scooping Nero up to his chest.

Nero yelped, then clung on instinctively.

They burst through the window just as the flames swallowed the room.

Cold air hit Nero's face. Wind rushed past his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into the demon's shoulder, arms locked tight as they flew.

They landed a short distance away, inside an old abandoned shelter half-hidden by trees and overgrowth. The rain hammered the roof as the demon set Nero down.

Blue light flared once more before it faded.

Vergil stood there instead, soaked, breathing hard, and Yamato sheathed at his side.

Nero made a broken sound and launched himself forward, arms wrapping around Vergil's waist.

"Daddy!" He sobbed, face pressing into his father's stomach. "I thought—I thought-"

Vergil dropped to his knees and pulled him close instantly, one arm wrapped firm and unshakable around Nero's back, the other cradling his head. He bowed his forehead to Nero's hair.

Nero hiccupped hard. "I thought they were gonna get me! Dad, I was calling you! I was calling you, and nobody came, and it was hot and scary and-"

"I know," Vergil murmured. "I know..."

He cried harder at that. The words opened something inside him, and all the fear spilt out at once.

"There was fire everywhere," he sobbed. "And smoke. I hid, but they found me! I didn't wanna die—I didn't wanna-"

"You won't," Vergil cut in. "Never, Nero."

Nero clung to him, fingers bunching in his dad's coat as Vergil leaned against the shelter wall, pulling him into his lap, shielding him from everything else. Nero finally soaked in the older man's comforting scent, not caring about the blood that was stained on both of their clothes.

He heard the soft guttural sounds coming from his dad's chest before they turned into gentle purrs.

Even after everything, Nero should've been happy to hear his dad's purrs, because they made him feel relaxed and sleepy. But he couldn't feel any of those things when, beneath the steady rumble of sounds, there was something rough. A hitch. A quiet, uneven sound that didn't belong.

His ear was pressed right on Vergil's chest, cheek squished into his coat, and now that he wasn't crying quite so loud, he could hear it clearly. Each breath came a little too fast. A little too sharp at the end. Like it hurt to pull the air all the way in.

"…Dad?"

"I'm here."

Nero pulled back just enough to look up at his face. Water from the rain slid down Vergil's hair and lashes, his skin pale beneath the grime and blood. He was still holding Nero securely, still solid and warm, but his jaw was clenched, and there was a faint tremor in his breath that he wasn't hiding very well at all.

"You're breathing funny," Nero said. His voice wobbled. "Are you hurt?"

Vergil didn't answer right away. Then he smoothed a hand over Nero's back, slow and grounding. "It's nothing," he said. "I'm alright." He tried to sit up straighter as if to prove it.

Nero felt it anyway; the sharp inhale Vergil couldn't quite stop, the way his fingers flexed like something inside him pulled wrong.

"No," Nero said suddenly.

Before his father could say anything else, Nero pushed away from his chest, slipping out of his lap and stumbling back a step. His hands curled into fists, his head shaking hard, curls sticking to his wet cheeks.

"You're not," he cried. "You're not alright!"

"Ner-"

"You're hurt!" Nero cracked, tears spilling again. "I heard you! You're trying to hide it, but I heard you breathing, and you look… You look like it hurts!"

Vergil reached for him, but Nero backed up another step, sobbing now, shaking all over. "You're lying," he whimpered. "You're trying not to scare me, but I'm scared anyway!"

"Nero," Vergil tried to sound firm, though the strain crept back into his voice. "Look at me. I have sustained worse. This is-"

"I don't care!" Nero choked. "I don't care if it's worse or not! You sound like you're gonna fall over! And you promised you'd always come, and you did, y-you did, but-!"

"Nero," Vergil said again, more urgently now, pain flickering across his face despite himself. "I said I'm fine. Let me-"

"No!" Nero shouted, tiny chest heaving. "I'm only alright if you're alright!" His hands flew up to his own chest like he was trying to hold his heart together as he shook his head again and again. "And I'm okay if you're okay! That's how it works! You can't say you're fine when you're not, because then I'm not fine either!"

Something in that…


Something so simple, yet fierce and absolute, made Vergil's face crumple completely.

Nero flinched when he saw a lone tear slide down from the corner of his father's eye. Then another followed it from the other side, cutting clean paths through the soot and rain on his face.

He had seen his dad angry. He had seen him cold and sharp and terrifying to demons. He had seen him tired. But this, this was different. This was small and quiet and scared in a way that made Nero's heart feel broken.

How much pain did Dad go through?

"D-Don't cry," Nero said, panicking a little as his hands fluttered uselessly in front of him. "Daddy, please don't cry."

Vergil sucked in a breath that hitched halfway through, his jaw clenching as he tried (and failed) to pull himself back together. He reached out anyway, hand trembling as his fingers brushed Nero's sleeve, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to touch him.

Nero didn't wait. He stepped forward and went straight back into his father's arms, pressing himself against Vergil's chest as hard as he could manage, arms wrapping tight around his neck.

"It's okay," Nero said desperately and sounded muffled. "I'm here. You came. You saved me. You did it, Dad."

Vergil choked. He pulled Nero in with a quiet, shaking sound, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other braced firmly between his shoulders like he needed the contact to stay upright. His forehead dropped against Nero's hair.

"I was late," Vergil whispered, the words scraped raw. "I should have been there sooner."

Nero quickly shook his head. "No you weren't! You came when I called. You always do! I was really scared, but then you were there, and the blue light came, and everything stopped being so bad!"

Another tear slipped free, this one landing onto Nero's hair. Vergil squeezed his eyes shut. "I promised you," he said, his voice becoming low and unsteady. "And the thought that I might fail you-"

"You didn't," Nero interrupted, lifting his head just enough to look at him. His small hands came up to cup Vergil's face, clumsy thumbs smearing at the tears like he could wipe them away if he tried hard enough. "You didn't fail. I'm here. I'm safe. And you're here, and you're safe too!"

Vergil opened his eyes. For a moment, he just stared at him, like he was seeing something impossibly precious and fragile all at once. "You should not have had to be that brave."

Nero leaned forward again and hugged him, squeezing as hard as he could. "I was brave because you're my daddy. That's why."

Something in Vergil finally gave way entirely upon hearing that. He exhaled a broken sound, pulling Nero closer until there was no space left between them, as if he could shield him from the harsh world simply by holding him tightly enough.

"I don't like when you're hurt," Nero went on, trembling but determined. "It makes my tummy feel bad, and my chest feels too tight. When you're hurt, I'm hurt too."

Vergil let out a shaky breath that sounded almost like a sob this time. He leaned forward, pressing his brow to Nero's, their noses brushing. "…Then I will endure," he murmured. "Because I cannot bear the thought of being the reason you suffer."

Nero sniffed and nodded. "Okay. But you gotta let me hold you when it hurts." He pressed his lips, forming a stubborn pout. "That's part of it!"

Vergil gave a weak laugh through the tears. His purrs returned, uneven at first, then steadier as he stroked Nero's back in long, careful motions.

"Very well," he said softly. "I will allow it."

They stayed like that for a long while after, neither of them saying anything more. Rain drummed against the shelter roof, steady and patient, and the world beyond it felt far away. Vergil's breathing evened out beneath Nero's ear, the purrs settling into a low, constant rumble again. Nero's grip loosened just a little as the feeling in his chest eased, his fingers still fisted in his dad's coat like an anchor he wasn't ready to let go of.

Vergil rocked him, one hand warm and solid at Nero's back. Every so often, he pressed his cheek to Nero's hair, grounding himself in the simple fact that his son was here. Alive and safe.

Eventually, the shaking stopped altogether.

Nero shifted, pulling back just enough to look up at him. His eyes were still red and tired, lashes clumped with tears. "Can we go home now, Dad?"

Vergil's expression gentled. A small, real smile touched his lips as he tilted Nero's head up with two fingers and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. "Yes," he said. "Let's go home."

Nero's face lit up, relief and happiness bursting through the lingering fear. "Home!"

The older man huffed a soft, fond breath and rose carefully to his feet, lifting Nero securely into his arms. Nero wrapped his arms around his neck and watched as his father drew Yamato free. The blade sang as it cut through the air, light blooming and folding in on itself as a familiar portal opened before them.

"Are you gonna teach me how to do that one day?" Nero asked as he looked at Vergil with a hopeful gaze.

Vergil let out another quiet laugh, the feeling causing another pleasant rumble from his chest as he nodded. "I will."

Nero smiled back at him, eyes drooping as the excitement finally gave way to tiredness, and whispered. "Thank you, Daddy."

His father's arms tightened around him, steady and sure, and a soft kiss brushed his temple as they stepped through the portal.

"Thank you, Nero."