Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a simple job for the three of them.
A bunch of cultists had made a ritual to summon yet again another powerful demon from the Underworld, unaware that they had misread the true meaning of the spell and just left a circle of white chalk infused with magic waiting to be touched.
Needless to say the dumb cultists, as Dante called them, were gone by the time the three hunters reached the so-called crime scene; better run before a white haired dude finds you playing with ancient books…
“So,” Dante began once he kicked down the door, irritated by being called so early in the morning. Only his brother and him had shown up so far, but Nero was supposed to appear at any second while they waited. But Dante being Dante, he couldn't help but be impatient. “What do we do with this, Verge?”
The elder half-devil was the specialist when it came to ritual and demonic power, or really anything related to it. A thoughtful hum echoed from his chest, silence accompanying the plan he was building in his mind.
While Vergil pondered the birds and the bees, Dante – once again being Dante – decided without any warning to check out the building; just for the fun of it, he'd say if anyone asked. But since nobody was going to question him, much less his dear older brother, the decaying apartment complex was his new playground for the time being.
“I'll go check around.” He still had the decency to say to the other, not waiting for any sign of dismissal; Vergil just hummed long after Dante was already out the door, too preoccupied with the spell before his eyes.
Therefore there Dante stood, in a lobby full of scattered furniture, dust covered appliances, broken windows and death silence; “charming.” The comment escaped as he trekked around, decided to forgo the kitchen, avoiding its smell, in order to check out the few floors above him.
The first two were… unhinged. Nothing resembled normalcy in any way, with magazines taped to the ceiling as they were burned in place by some mysterious fire Dante could still smell, while every single article of clothing littered the rooms in a fake fashion of ‘I don't know what to wear.’
There were no corpses or even the remote smell of a rotting rat, leaving life something outwardly; Dante just went forth without giving it too much thought, waiting for the roof to welcome him to a nice blue sky and a soft breeze.
Which he reached quite fast since the third and fourth floor were… empty?
“What in the world happened here?” Scanning his surroundings, nothing popped out. Just as nothing had any hint of demonic power or even the faint, foul smell of magic; just empty rooms leaving behind empty, perhaps not even inhabited corners of forgotten domestic life.
But the roof awaited for him with his reward and Dante mindlessly reached his goal, opening the locked door with a kick that sent the metal frame flying. “Some fresh air, finally something good.” And so he sat on the edge, looking down at where Nico's van would hopefully be parked once the other two arrived.
It didn’t take too long before he fell asleep and was dutifully awakened by the sound of screaming tires and cursing.
“What a shame.” Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Dante watched Nico almost crash the van into the building, alerting her presence to everyone around the block and perhaps even more, while Nero bitched about her driving as he got off.
The sight of his nephew brought a fresh hint of joy in his heart, stretching a smile on his lips; Nero had been his reason to keep going after Fortuna and even though he would never say it to his face, Dante was always happy to see him.
With a quick motion, he jumped off the roof and gracefully landed beside Nero, surprising the young hunter who once startled had no time to elaborate when Dante caught his shoulder in a side hug.
“What took you so long, kid?” He asked and ruffled his short hair. “Got busy with your lady and didn't watch the clock?” Nero turned red at the suggestion and punched Dante’s chest; the man didn’t move an inch and just tagged Nero with him to reach his brother.
“So what do you have here?” Nero questioned Dante, following his lead while looking around; he could sense his father’s power as if it was flowing under his own skin, in his veins. In part, he was right.
Dante scoffed and stopped their journey, hands on both Nero’s shoulders. “Some idiots wanted to summon some big ass demon and got it all wrong.” He clapped his hands once, leaving Nero as he walked towards a missing door. “Your old man is working on it now. I don't fancy magic jojo on my clothes.”
He disappeared inside and heard Nero hot on his heels, a sigh and a curse going off behind his back. Vergil, for his part, didn't pay them any mind as he circled the white runes and observed in silence.
“Verge, your spawn is here!” Dante got a punch on the head for it but it was all worthy it just to see the soft blush on Nero’s face; the kid wasn't used to having a family just yet and the legendary hunter had made it his mission to savor the whole ordeal between father and son as much as he could.
Vergil took notice of the other two and answered Nero’s previous question that Dante left unattended. “The spell now works differently since the cultists made mistakes.” Eyes pierced through the youngest and the nodded for the elder to continue, both uncaring of the twisted glee in Dante’s eyes.
“From what I can tell with their childish calligraphy and mistakes, it should be some age related spell.” He pointed at some ruins on the ground for Nero to see; needless to say, Nero had no idea what he was looking at.
Once Vergil noticed his son's confusion, he didn’t bother explaining anything more rune related and just bypassed all the general information he could provide. “To make sure it doesn't cause trouble, we must break the seals around it and make sure not to step in it.”
Dante finally joined their conversation. “What happens if one of us steps inside that thing?” He wiggled a finger at the shiny white on the ground, earning a warning growl from his brother. Immediately, he took a step back with hands high in surrender. “Just asking.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Vergil huffed and Nero shook his head in disbelief. His father still answered. “The most probable option is being transformed into a child.”
Just then, Dante grinned with the kind of mischief only Vergil was able to detect; it was the same as when they were kids and he was about to do something completely foolish that he believed would bring some improvement to something in the house, whether it was watering Mother's plants with rotten milk to make the flowers bigger or stealing Vergil’s book to get his attention.
The red clad man was quick to walk around the circle, careful of his brother's watchful eye as he approached Nero. “Say kid, how was the trip?”
Nero, dumbfounded by his uncle’s question, mumbled something like a curse and felt the weight of the other around his back. Before he could say anything reasonable, Dante grinned and locked eyes with Vergil.
“Dante, don-”
Before he could stop him, Dante had pushed Nero into the spell, a hand covering his widening grin. “Ops…”
There was no remorse in his tone nor was he shocked when a small child with white hair, strikingly blue eyes and a very resting expression caught his eyes. Nero, in all his childish beauty, was the cutest six years old he had ever seen.
“Dante, are you out of your mind!” Vergil barked at his twin, going to inspect Nero while keeping an eye on Dante. The ritual had been executed and there was no magic left, but better safe than sorry.
It only took him a few steps to be in the middle of the white drawing, kneeling to search for his son under a now-oversize coat. Not a word passed his lips as he picked up fallen clothes and put them aside, gesturing for Dante to carry them once they'll take their leave.
Out of the coat and most of the items that have been covering Nero’s body, only his plain, ratty blue shirt was left on his small body; he laid on the ground without moving, which spurred Vergil to cradle him in his arms as best as he could.
“Nero?” His voice didn’t betray not even an ounce of the turmoil his heart had decided to experience, but the little boy he had just cradled so close to his chest didn’t stir awake; features relaxed in such a terrible situation, he was sound asleep.
Dante giggled from the side, kneeling beside his brother as he took his nephew's clothes. “At least it wasn't painful. Right?”
That earned him a mirage blade in between his shoulder blades, sending him face down on the ground by Vergil’s feet. “See how you come back, if you believe to be without fault.” The elder declared, just to add. “And I expect you to arrive at the office with Nero’s clothes. Do not leave them behind.”
With that said, Vergil stood with his boy in his arms, securely held by an instinct he couldn't place nor name as he moved and unsheathed Yamato, cutting a portal and leaving his twin behind.
Once at the office, Nero still didn't give any sign of waking up any time soon. It left Vergil with only one option: sitting on the couch with a very small Nero while his thoughts couldn't form properly. Only when he looked down at the sleeping boy some sort of clarity was found, but it just gave him a strange sensation.
A sense of peace, serene and tender. It alarmed him greatly, but his body didn’t allow him to make any sudden move lest he wanted to wake Nero.
He shook the feeling away. Quickly, before anything could come of it.
With polite precision he sat on the couch, on his usual spot, and carefully sat Nero next to himself, keeping the boy close without awakening that strange feeling that rattled his bones in such an unpleasant way.
Just in time, he would later say to himself as Dante opened the front door with a grunt and a layer of sweat clinging to his forehead. “I took the short way back.” He said without being asked to, dropping all the oversized clothes on the desk.
Vergil said nothing, letting Nero sleep beside him as the little boy leaned into his side while Dante didn’t pay him any attention. The red twin probably flew if his ruffled hair were any indication, which told the elder everything he needed to know.
Sitting on his chair, Dante propped his feet on the desk as per usual, sending a sensational grin to Vergil. “Cute, isn't he?”
Debating whether he should run Yamato through his brother's body or throw him out, Vergil did neither and didn't answer. “Why do you have to see everything as a joke, you fool?” He didn’t hide the hint of anger in his tongue. “How will you explain this to his woman and his friend?”
With a snort and a dismissing hand, Dante yawned. “They don't need to know.” Once again, mischief painted his face as Vergil stared at him. “I'll just tell them the kid is staying with us cause the job turned out to be longer than expected.”
Before Vergil could argue about how asinine of an idea that was, Dante picked up the receiver and called over to the mobile branch of Devil May Cry. Fortunately his loud voice didn’t wake Nero as he talked to Nico.
“Look, Nico.” Vergil could tell he got interrupted by a wave of curses and a few cars honking at her; Dante just persisted and snickered back in the first second of silence she made. “Nero is staying over for a few more days.”
At that she stopped dead in the middle of traffic, or so it seemed as everything on the other end fell quiet. “Why such a long time, Dante?” Her concern was valid; most of their jobs just required an entire day at max.
Scratching his chin, the legendary hunter explained with a pleased grin as Vergil scoffed. “Just need to finish this job. The cultists ran into more nests than expected across the outskirts of Redgrave and we need to wipe them down.” Both twins knew it was a huge exaggeration, but neither cared as she didn’t question them.
“Fine by me.” She said without too much interest. “I'll let Kyrie know.” And then she hung up after cursing at some other driver for cutting her off.
Just like that, everything was settled. Even though Vergil had trouble believing it…
“Oh, look.” Dante then caught his attention as he was thinking how easy it had been to fool that woman into believing their lie. He took a glance at Dante just to see him pointing beside him.
With a raised brow that was barely noticeable, Vergil’s eyes followed the suggested route just to meet his son's puffy eyes being rubbed; he was looking up at him without saying a word, his shirt cascading over his knees and reaching his elbows. Fists formed on the hem, realization or awareness slowly making itself known.
“Nero?” Vergil asked before he could stop himself, incredulous as the little boy didn't say anything and just stared at him.
“Hey, kid.” Dante then chimed in, catching the youngest's attention. When Nero’s eyes landed on him, a small gleam of fury erupted from his aquamarine eyes and without meaning to, he puffed his cheeks the way a small kid would before throwing a tantrum.
His fists left his shirt, forgetting all about Vergil and glaring at his uncle. “Dante!” He squeaked the way only a child could, all his anger unable to pass through his small lungs.
Nero even launched himself in a nefarious attack against Dante, only to be caught by his father as he was about to face-plant on the floor.
Vergil huffed a small, private smile. “This is going to be… Interesting.”