Chapter Text
Dante was in the midst of a well-deserved nap when the door opened.
He had been taking any job that passed by, no matter how shitty or non-demonic. Apparently, having to be responsible for one child and one barely functioning brother meant he couldn’t be picky. Especially with the cold months rolling in, he needed to make sure he was actually paying the bills. Lady had had a good laugh about that, saying it was about time. Still, she tossed him jobs, claiming she didn’t have time for them or she just didn’t want to.
The woman who had come in was older, hair starting to gray. She had called the night before for a job, password and all. Something about her family farm being overrun by demons. He didn’t care too much about the details. Just point him in the right direction and pay him at the end and he’d be happy.
He beckoned her farther in, sitting up straight. Over in the corner, Vergil was giving Nero some sword training. He’d noticed the kid training with one of Vergil’s summoned swords, being walked through motions by the man. He’d gotten the kid a practice sword since then, figuring it was safer and also required less energy from his brother. He was using that now, swinging at the air while Vergil sat beside him.
The woman noticed them, giving Nero a small wave. He actually waved back, although he shifted so his right hand was behind his back. It was completely covered, but the kid didn’t seem to like people noticing it at all. Vergil nodded to her as well, eyes tracking her as she went towards them.
She bent down towards Nero, “Are you the young man I heard on the phone?”
Nero had gotten into the habit of answering the phone. Whenever it went off, the kid dropped whatever he was doing to try and get it before Dante. He’d even started saying Devil May Cry when he answered after hearing Dante do it. He didn’t seem to mind speaking to people until they were looking at him.
Dante grabbed a chair and pulled it over to the coffee table while his client was distracted by the kid. It wasn’t long before Nero ran by him and into the back room, Vergil in tow.
The woman sat down on the couch across from him.
“He’s a cute one,” she said with a small smile directed towards the back. “What’s his name?”
“Nero,” he told her. “Sorry about him running off, he gets shy around new people.”
“It’s no problem,” she laughed. “That’s quite the family resemblance you three have.”
“I bet you and your brother looked just like him at that age,” she continued on.
“Pretty damn close, that’s for sure.”
“Is he your’s or your brother’s?”
“My brother’s. They’re staying with me for the time being.”
“I bet he appreciates it. When my boys were little, I remember they could be quite a handful at times.”
He nodded along as she started rambling about her sons, apparently now both adults. Probably not too far from Vergil's and his age. He wondered if it would be rude to interrupt and steer the conversation back to the job, or if he was supposed to let her keep talking. Killing demons was a lot easier than dealing with people.
Once upon a time, Vergil had been the shy one and he was the one always trying to talk with people. They mostly stayed at the house, but when they did go to town he was trying to talk to anyone who’d listen, dragging Vergil along behind him. That died out as he got older. People tended to avoid him. They could sense that something was off about him, even if they didn’t realize it. It wasn’t everyone, sure, but it was enough for him to get the point.
He waited for her to finish the story she was telling before asking about the demon problem she’d come for.
She looked embarrassed, apologizing for getting so distracted. The place they were headed was a good hour away, so he should probably leave sooner rather than later if he wanted to be back that night. He got the directions and thanked her. On her way out, she gave a half-wave towards the back and he turned just in time to see Nero’s head ducking out of sight.
Dante went upstairs to find his jacket. His room was cleaner than it ever had been. When he’d first gotten back from Mallet Island, he’d shoved his pile of clothes into a drawer just to get it out of the way. Since then, some semblance of organization had been put in place as clothes for Nero and Vergil were acquired. Each now had their own drawer in the large dresser and Dante did his best to keep things regularly washed and put in the correct spot.
Of all the things Vergil still had some concept of, he was really glad clothing was one of them. He’d been a bit worried about that at first, leaving some stuff where it would be clear it was for him, and thankfully there hadn’t been any problems. When Dante had been busy and forgot to put the laundry away, he’d even gone through the pile and sorted out what was his and what was Dante’s.
Eventually he would need to get them out of his room, but he figured that could wait. He’d only just started the process of cleaning out his spare room. If nothing else he could at least get a second bed and stop sleeping in chairs or on the couch. While they could all technically fit on his one bed, and Vergil had been doing fine with him being close, he was prone to nightmares. He’d wake up shaken in the middle of the night and then his movements would wake Vergil up. Nero at least seemed ready to sleep through anything except the occasional loud noise.
His jacket was slung over the foot of the bed. Other things might be neat, but he still tended to throw that over whatever was closest.
He realized there were little feet padding up the stairs after him, slipping into the room. Nero didn’t shut the door all the way, just pulling it most of the way and moving to sit on the edge of the bed. His feet kicked at the air, his eyes downcast and preoccupied.
“Something up?” He bent down to grab one of his boots from where he’d kicked it off.
Nero pulled his legs up to his chest. He wasn’t making eye contact with Dante.
“What’s a nestling?”
Dante did not drop his boot, but he came very close. He didn’t know where Nero would have heard that, nor why he’d be asking about it now. It’s not like it was something that came up with normal people, and it wasn’t really a major part of his vocabulary.
“It’s demon-talk for a kid,” he tried to smile at him but Nero still wasn’t looking his way. “What brought that on?”
Nero pulled at the rim of his sleeves, idly running a finger over the scales around his wrist.
“Mundus called me that.”
He gave up on putting his shoes on, dropping down onto the bed next to him. It’s not that he avoided talking about Mallet Island, but it certainly wasn’t a topic they brought up often. Not that Vergil talked much anyways, but he tended to get distant when that sort of thing came up. He hadn’t even known that Nero interacted with Mundus, although he supposed it was to be expected.
“It just means that you’re a kid,” he tried to keep his tone light but he doubted this was the end of the conversation.
Nero nodded. His brows were furrowed somewhere between focused and worried.
“Mundus said I was Vergil’s nestling-” Nero’s words came out a bit choked, “and when people see me you say I’m your nephew or that- or that he’s my-”
His words broke off in a hiccup. He’d never seen Nero cry but this was certainly the closest he’d come.
“He’s your dad?” Dante finished his thought.
Nero nodded. His eyes were squeezed shut and his face was shoved into his knees.
Dante sighed. He knew he’d been putting this off, but in his defense, he’d wanted Vergil to recover as much as possible before they talked about it.
“We’re pretty certain he is.”
Nero finally looked at him. He looked hopeful and somewhat relieved. He was also going to be needing some tissues.
“Really?”
He placed a hand on the kid’s head, rubbing gently when he wasn’t met with protest.
“Yeah. Vergil… he thinks he’s your dad. I do too. It’s just what Mundus did to him, it messed up his memories, so he can’t say for sure.”
“But he thinks he is?”
“Yup.” Nero was wiping his eyes with his sleeves. “As far as we’re concerned, you’re his kid and my nephew. You’re stuck with us now.”
Nero threw his arms around him and squeezed. It took a second for him to process the hug, but Nero had let go and was out the door before he could hug back.
He finished getting ready. By the time he went downstairs, Nero was sitting on the couch with Vergil, looking like nothing had happened. He even looked a little extra cheery as he waved Dante off.
Nero seemed particularly energetic that evening. Dante had left them for his job, claiming he might be back late and that there was food in the fridge. They had already eaten and the light from outside had turned to the bleeding yellow he had come to know to be an indicator that it would be dark soon.
He had been making Vergil soup for the past week or two. It was thicker than the water or tea he’d been having, and sometimes the taste was too much, but Dante seemed adamant that he needed to start consuming things that were considered a food and not a drink. It made him feel somewhat steadier on his feet, so he supposed there was something to the distinction.
He wasn’t sure he felt like a complete person, but it was better. His mind felt clearer, not heavy with the fog of Mundus’ control over him. His memories weren’t all there-he wasn’t sure they ever would be- but he had a better grasp on his life prior to being under Mundus’ reign. Dante was his twin brother. They were half-demons, with their father being Sparda. He recognized the name from the demon realm, although it was strange to hear it mentioned without an underlying loathing. Their mother was named Eva. Dante had shown him the picture of her, and promptly explained that Trish was created in her image.
He could see them in some of his memories, although they felt separate from the names and descriptions he had been given. He could feel the warmth of blankets as his and Dante’s child selves were tucked into bed by their mother. Could hear the amused voice of their father. But the woman in the photo seemed alien, and Sparda was nothing more than a demon he could hear or read about if he wished.
Nero was glancing at the office’s door, restless in his movements. Dante took him out every so often, although Vergil had always stayed behind. Not that he couldn’t leave, or that Dante had told him not to, but he was doubtful of his returning strength in regards to going against demons. The office was secure. He supposed it could also be called boring, at least to an energetic child.
He tapped Nero’s shoulder and pointed towards the door.
“Can we go out?” He was smiling and bouncing from foot to foot.
“We can.” His throat scratched when he spoke, but he didn’t feel as though he were fighting with every word. “Do you have a place in mind?”
“There’s a park nearby, can we go there? I remember how to get there!”
He nodded, letting Nero pull him to get ready to leave. He had to borrow a pair of Dante’s shoes. Nero also insisted he put another layer over his shirt to avoid getting cold.
It was cold outside, he soon learned. At least compared to the building. It was also loud. Nero kept close, hand in his. The farther they got from the office, the more people they came across. He could hear them talking, multiple conversations going over each other, people yelling over the phone as they went by him, cars sputtering by with music screaming out the windows. It made his head ache. His senses thrashed between each new piece of information, trying to parse out if any of it was directed at him and Nero or if any of the passer-byers seemed to be a threat. He hoped the park was quieter.
By the time they arrived, the sun was sitting low and blurry in the horizon. Lights lined the area, keeping it bright. There was a center area where stones indicated where it separated from the paved streets, a statue and fountain sitting in the middle with benches around it. Nero led him past that, to where the stones turned to neat grass and a section with large structures for children to play on. Five children were scattered around, oblivious to the world outside of their games.
Nero let go of his hand, running off to climb over the metal equipment.
He kept to the perimeter. There were four adults, all half-hazardly keeping watch over the children. They were off on benches or loitered around the scattered trees. Two women were talking with each other.
He steered clear of them, finding a tree farther away from the adults where he had a clear view of what Nero was doing, as well as the park’s main entrance.
He leaned back against the tree. The bark was rough through his clothes, not nearly as tough as the armor he’d been in. Grass tickled his hands and ankles, wherever his skin was exposed. It was cool and slightly damp, and dirt left light brown smudges on his palms when he lifted them. It smelt clean, fresh. He didn’t realize freshness had a scent. He liked it. The office smelt like Dante. He didn’t know that the scent was pleasant, but it was familiar and safe so he liked it all the same. This was new. It was human and bright and far away from the demon realm or the demon-infested Mallet Island.
Two boys approached Nero. They were similar in height to him, although one was clearly bigger and perhaps slightly older. Nero glanced back at him, his posture growing anxious. He readied himself to be at Nero’s side should help be needed, but then Nero’s face lightened up. One of the boys tapped his shoulder and ran off, the second running in the other direction and Nero was on his feet running after them. He watched them go at that, changing off who chased who. Nero was fast, he began to recognize. The other boys were having a hard time catching him, to the point that the game became the other two trying to catch Nero. They pursued him around and over the equipment until one of them, the older one, was called by one of the women and left.
Most of them had left already, he realized, with the two boys and one other man being the only others in the park. The sun had gone down long before. The park still seemed so bright, he questioned if it was the lamps or if his demonic senses were more tuned towards the dark.
The other man was walking towards him. His gait wasn’t threatening, and he couldn’t sense anything demonic about him.
“Mind if I sit?” the man stopped in front of him.
He wasn’t sure if it was a trick question or not. Lady had been telling Dante to be polite to those coming to the office for jobs. He reasoned he was also supposed to act polite to those wanting to interact with him, at least where Nero was concerned. He gestured for the man to sit.
He lounged over the grass, carefree in his movements. He decided the man would not be a threat to himself or Nero. His movements were much too easy to hide hostility. Even when Dante moved about, taking up space around him, there was a calculated nature to them that was absent in this man.
“I haven’t seen you two around before. Are you new to the area?”
The man was watching him. He was supposed to answer. While Nero was content talking at him and not receiving replies, he recognized that when people spoke to him it was expected he said something back.
“We are.”
That was enough, the man continuing to talk. “Always nice to see new faces. But I guess most faces are new in a place like this, it’d be pretty hard to know everyone.”
“What brought you to the city, anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Ah, that was a question and he was going to have to answer again. Was it normal for people to ask questions such as that? Or would it be within reason for him to deny?
“My brother. He lives here.”
“Nice, nice. I bet he-” the man gestured towards Nero, “-will appreciate having family around as he gets older.”
He nodded. Nero seemed happier here than on Mallet Island, although that was likely not just Dante’s proximity. He did seem to enjoy Dante’s company though. Lady, as well, to an extent. Vergil still wasn’t at ease around her, her own demeanor being much too aggressive for such a thing. She showed no hostility towards the boy, though, tending to entertain him with card games, winning over his favor over time.
A demonic presence approached the park. His head swiveled around, he needed to find it as quickly as possible.
He located the source as the figure that had entered the park and was now running towards him. He relaxed only after seeing it was Dante, out of breath and scowling at him.
The man looked between the two, half–laughing. “I’m guessing you’re the brother then.”
Dante looked caught off-guard. He sat down next to Vergil, eyes questioning. “Yeah, I am.”
“I’m John.” The man held up a hand in greeting. Dante still looked confused but he returned the greeting.
“Here we are talking and I never asked your name,” he chuckled, directing his words to him.
“Vergil.”
“You two have been talking?” Dante was eyeing him. “Like an actual conversation?”
Now the man looked mildly suspicious. “Yes? Is that weird?”
Dante recovered himself, leaning into him and grinning wide. “He’s shy. Doesn’t normally talk much.”
That seemed an acceptable answer. The man laughed it off, agreeing that he was quiet. Nero and the other boy were running over to them. He was glad, hoping it meant less talking.
The boy looked at him and Dante. “You two look a lot alike.”
“We’re twins,” Dante said at the same time as the man softly scolded him for being rude. Had that been rude?
“How do you know who’s who?” That was towards Nero.
Nero looked between them, brows furrowed. “It’s not that hard. That’s Dante-” he pointed as he spoke, “-and that's my dad.”
There was a lump in his throat, his breath coming in one sharp inhale. He knew Nero was his child, Dante agreed that Mundus had not been lying about that. It still felt strange to hear it said, especially from the boy, and in such a human way. It felt different in a way he could not describe. Not the demonic nestling or spawn Mundus had called him, nor the passive father Dante used when telling him about Sparda. It seemed so strange to him. He liked it, though, of that he was sure.
Nero had taken his hand. Had tugged to get him to his feet and then to walk with him. He was following Dante. The man and boy were gone.
Dante was saying something. It was much quieter on the streets than when they left, but the words seemed so distant. Dante had been worried about them, he caught. Had wondered where they were. He was thankful when they reached the office. The familiarity blanketing around him.
Nero let go of his hand as they stopped in the center of the room. He hugged Vergil, arms tight. He had enough mind to return the gesture, grounding himself in the warm feeling in his chest. The boy ran off upstairs, leaving him standing with Dante staring at him with shock written over his face.
Dante stopped to lean on his desk. He’d about had a heart attack when he came home to find the office empty. He’d have to try and explain to Vergil the concept of “letting me know where you went” later. Right now, he was more than happy to watch the way his brother relaxed as Nero hugged him. All his features softened and, for the first time, he was smiling.