Chapter Text
Heightened senses could be a blessing in combat, but now, strolling through the streets of Redgrave on the hunt for any stragglers, the ability to hear the almost imperceptible footsteps following along is driving Nero wild. Especially as it’s clearly a mercy from his so-called father after the last time Nero whirled around at the feeling of a presence behind him and almost nailed the elder hunter with Red Queen. Although knowing Vergil, the smug bastard would likely have been able to dodge it if he had so desired. The half-devil wasn’t even helping, letting Nero take on the battles while he lurked somewhere in the shadows, always a few paces behind.
Halting his pace, Nero snarls into the night air, “Will you tell me what this is already? Are you back to survey your old kingdom? Are you on some sort of redemption walk? Are you trying to see if I’m worth the time of the King of the Underworld? If it’s that last one, trust me: we’re both disappointed in my limitations.”
Behind, the shadow offers no answer. The only trace he is even listening at all is the fact that those footsteps, made just loud enough for part-demon ears, have fallen silent.
Whirling on his heels to face his father, the two demon hunters lock gazes. As usual, Vergil’s eyes are like glass, betraying no emotion as they stalk their way through the city he has helped destroy. He probably doesn’t care about the clean-up effort or the need to clear the city so some survivors can move back in. He won’t care that this job has taken so long because it was impossible to make any meaningful progress until the stupid portals were destroyed in the Underworld, or how much work Nero, Trish and Lady have had to take on to try and protect the whole world. Dante will never be broke again, not with how much of his competition fell during the month they were all inactive, letting demons rule the roost here. They might be the only functioning demon hunters left in the world now. The youngest member of Devil May Cry can feel that blood on his hands, the weight of the lives he failed to save, the humans who should never have had to face the demon now stalking him through this hellish landscape. Dante might have been right about that ‘deadweight’ comment, as much as it stung. As much as Vergil’s silence cuts now, refusing to engage at all.
“Fuck off, Vergil. I don’t need your judgment or your acceptance. I don’t have anything you want!”
Vergil’s poetry book is still nestled in a hiding place in the van, but Nero won’t count that. The book was a relic of Vergil’s humanity, and his father seemed to have left that part of him in the Underworld. Again. And Nero wants it, for its ties to V if nothing else. V was someone he cared about. Vergil might have just been the dying embers of a stupid child’s dream.
“I have nothing for you! Just leave me alone already!”
At the bite of the younger hybrid’s words, Vergil simply arches a brow. Another judgment about Nero’s inability to keep a cool head. Another strike against his all-too-human child. Luckily, Nero already had a family. People who actually love him. He doesn’t need this asshole.
“Power-hungry prick!” The words are snarled into the night, failing to cause a single shift in Vergil’s expression. As always.
Flipping Vergil the bird as he starts walking again, Nero silently starts counting. One second. Two. And with the gap between them formed again, Vergil takes one of those purposely louder steps and resumes his slow pursuit.
They have returned to the shop for two reasons. One is so Nero can lose his supernatural stalker, with Vergil slipping off to his own rooms the moment they make it over the threshold with nothing more than a nod to Dante. The other is because Nero hopes that, with that endless rivalry the twins have, his spending time with his uncle and achieving some level of human communication might just get under Vergil’s skin. Dante seems to understand this childish desire because his hand is messing its way through Nero’s hair before Vergil has fully vanished from their sight.
“Got to take advantage of you being pissed at my brother somehow. And you are my favourite nephew.” With an easy smile, Dante manages to lift whatever feral rage seems to settle into Nero whenever he is forced to endure Vergil’s silent presence.
The red-clad hunter is better at communicating with others than he thinks. He always makes the concession that Vergil is ‘his brother’ and not ‘Nero’s father’. Apart from when he was using it as an argument that Nero shouldn’t kill Urizen, Dante has barely acknowledged a family connection at all between his elder brother and the young hunter he’s currently petting, unless Nero is the one who brings it up. Vergil, on the other hand, seems to think Nero is another of his treasured possessions. Something he is entitled to, even if he doesn’t want it. Dante’s single slip is calling Nero ‘his nephew’, but after five years of keeping it quiet, Nero supposes the elder hunter deserves that connection. He wasn’t a bad uncle, unlike Nero’s heartless father…
Dante raises a brow at Nero’s darkening expression, moving to cup Nero’s shoulder. “What happened between you and my brother this time?”
Nero brushes the hand off with a scowl, “Why the hell is he always coming to Redgrave? Does he have nothing better to do?”
“Still following you around silently then?” Falling back in the chair at his desk, Dante grins, “Tell you what, Kid, I’ll come with you next time you go. Verge won’t show up if he has to listen to me getting all nostalgic and complaining about all the stuff he’s destroyed. My childhood ice cream parlour is wrecked, so I’ll definitely point that out if we pass it. While we’re walking around, I can tell you all the fun stories of your grandma scolding her demon husband for not acting normal. That will really annoy Verge, given that he has the same lack of social skills.”
Throwing himself at the sofa, Nero pinches the skin between his eyes, “I still don’t understand how you and Vergil are related.”
“Yeah, I used to ask my mom that all the time. Of course, being identical twins did sort of help to ensure that my parents’ arguments where they were certain he was my brother a little harder to refute.” At Nero’s stare, Dante laughs, “What? Verge isn’t the only one who knows some fancy words. Back when he wasn’t such a stick in the mud, we’d pretend to be each other sometimes. Never fooled Sparda, but he would pretend to get us mixed up just to watch us feel all superior that we’d tricked our all-knowing father. For a couple of five-year-olds, that was a major victory. Might even be when we started saying jackpot.”
Nero files the information away, adding it to his small mental file on his grandparents. Maybe it came from growing up on Fortuna, but learning that The Saviour actually did mundane things like playing with his young sons was a satisfying piece of revenge on all The Order’s sanctimonious preachers. Still, it hurt hearing Dante’s tale.
“So, your fully demon father was better than my half-human one. Figures. At least the Saviour chose humanity. Vergil seems determined to wipe them out.” Closing his eyes as he speaks, Nero hears Dante coming over to join him on the sofa.
“Honestly, Kid, Vergil feels indifferent towards humans. It might not make it much better, but he isn’t outright choosing to exterminate them. In my brother’s mind, all his actions served a purpose. Not saying what he has done is right—it isn’t—but Vergil wouldn’t randomly slaughter the world’s population because humanity is a stain. And he obviously found at least one human worthy of some of his time.”
The quarter-devil shudders, “You think Vergil has an army of kids out in the world?”
“Not really.” Dante looks rather demonic with the grin he offers, “When he realised that I meant you were his son, he recalled how it had happened pretty quickly. Apparently, whoever your mother is, she was memorable enough that Vergil was willing to feel a little nostalgic. So, it was probably a one-off experience.”
A spectral arm strikes the side of the red-clad hunter’s head, “Dante… I don’t want to think about that!”
“I get it, Kid, I get it. If it weren’t so intriguing, I’d feel the same way. With this demonic hearing, I think it’s probably the one thing that makes me glad we weren’t reunited back then. But hey, it got you out of your rage-induced sulking; now you’re busy contemplating the horror that someone willingly chose to sleep with my brother. And that you share half of that woman’s DNA.” Dodging the second spectral blow, Dante laughs, “If it makes you feel any better, from what I just heard, Vergil has escaped through a portal to avoid hearing more of this conversation himself. You are officially free of his presence for the night. Maybe forever if he thinks we’re going to be discussing his sex life for a while.”
At Nero’s frown, Dante slaps the younger hunter on the back, “Consider this my guarantee: if I came on your hunts with you, Vergil would stay here. He does not want to be in earshot of part two of this discussion.”
“So, this was all a sales pitch?”
“Nah, just wanted to mess with Verge. It has always been, and remains, the basis of our brotherly relationship. Why change it now?”
The familiar streets of Redgrave are now lacking the usual echo of footsteps. Vergil really must be avoiding his brother because the only sounds as Nero hunts are Dante’s calls as he spots another group of low-level demons and his endless banter as he takes them down.
Bounding back from his latest battle, Dante offers an easy smile, “Having fun, Kid?”
“Sure. Not like we’re short of demons to deal with. I think there are more here now than when I last came. Are you sure you and Vergil actually finished destroying his hellish gardening project?” Swapping his devil breaker out, Nero frowns, “I sort of thought I was almost finished clearing these scum out of the city.”
“Yeah… I figured that might be what was happening. Seems like a lot of these base demons still recognise that Vergil has enough power to rule their world. They don’t want to mess with that.”
Dante’s words cause Nero to freeze. Glancing at the half-devil, the younger hunter frowns, seeing no sign of a joke in his uncle’s face, “Demons are avoiding Vergil?”
“Some of them. But that shouldn’t be a surprise; Lady and Trish avoid him, too. My brother has a talent for emptying a room. Even you’ve been getting sick of his company, and you’re the one who stopped me killing him.”
Before Nero can think of a response for that, Dante claps a hand on his nephew’s shoulder, “I think we’ve driven most of the small fry off. They’re dead or hiding for the moment… so I suppose it might be time for me to try and have a serious conversation with you, Kid. Avoiding these discussions didn’t exactly help the last time, and I’d prefer not to hide things from you. I really didn’t enjoy all the things I said just to keep you from killing Verge before. I’m going to try and explain things properly this time.”
Using his free hand to brush the hair from his eyes, Dante guides Nero to an undamaged bench, “These aren’t really my forte, Nero, but I don’t see my brother explaining himself anytime soon, and you don’t know Vergil. Not well enough to understand his logic anyway. After your whole speech about not losing anyone, you probably deserve a little insight into the idiot. At least before he gives you some sort of complex. Well… more than the one he’s already given you. Sorry about that; I really did think you might be the one person he would talk to.”
Held in place by his uncle, Nero can only raise a hand to fidget with the book he still has hidden in his jacket, keeping it away from Vergil. The movement catches Dante’s eye, and the red-clad hunter laughs.
“Man, you’re getting as possessive of that book as Verge was. Makes things a little easier for me, though. You know Vergil has had that book longer than you’ve been alive, right?” Dante waits for Nero’s nodding acknowledgement before he continues, “You’re looking at a book that has endured the worst horrors demons can inflict on this world, something that has been to the depths of Hell itself—endured more than a few demonic encounters—and it’s still in almost perfect condition. You can see how impossible that should be, right? A 40-year-old book surviving stabbings, fights, the horrors of the Underworld, whatever torture Vergil still refuses to talk about…”
At the sight of Nero turning pale, Dante stops, “Right, maybe we don’t go there. Probably should have listened to my brother on that one. The point is, Kid: Vergil protects anything he considers his own. Really well.”
Swallowing, Nero tries to shift the lump which has formed in his throat, “I distinctly remember having to repair a certain sword which your brother considers his possession.”
“I don’t think that one was his choice. And you discovered exactly what Vergil was willing to do to get that blade back. If I hadn’t thought him dead, I wouldn’t have let you keep the Yamato… even though you were his son. I wouldn’t have wanted to risk Vergil coming back for it and killing you along the way. But don’t play dumb, Kid, you understand what I’m trying to tell you here. Vergil protects what he likes and considers his own. He is one possessive prick.” Forcing their gazes to meet, Dante runs a thumb through Nero’s short hair, “For the record, Kid, you are one of the few things I do agree with Vergil on. You are someone I want to protect, too, so no suggesting my brother is following you to keep an eye on that book, OK?”
Nero shifts in his seat, “So Vergil is stalking me around Redgrave so that I don’t run into as many demons? He knows I’m going to have to keep coming back here until we kill them all, right? Or did I give him some sort of brain injury the last time I kicked his fucking pretentious ass?”
“Vergil wouldn’t insult you like that. That whole deadweight thing I said to you when I didn’t want you killing your old man, I only figured it would work because it used to make Verge so mad if I said it to him when we were inventing some game or out ‘protecting’ our old house. That pride of his wanted his strength acknowledged; he was determined that his role was to be the guardian of our mother… and me, since he was a little older. It’s nine minutes by the way, so it barely counts. Of course, even though we were twins, Sparda seemed to feel the same way about his firstborn.” Releasing Nero, Dante instead runs a hand through his hair and shifts his gaze to the sky, “Our father always warned us that his power might attract enemies, that we needed to be aware of anyone and anything that approached our home. I don’t think he specifically told me much about demons. Vergil knew a little more. He warned me once—after Dad was gone—that we had to prove we were worthy of the power of Sparda, that others would want to prove they were better. I was seven, and I didn’t get it then. I do now.”
“Demons who want to become king would want to challenge Vergil, to test their powers against him.” Nero lets the confession hang in the air, “You said you knew I was Vergil’s son. Those demons would know too.”
“Got it in one, Kid. Your power and his are alike; more than Vergil’s and mine ever were. You carry the scent of the blood of Sparda and something unique to Vergil’s line, too. Although I didn’t know that until I saw him again without Mundus’ influence. Anything that encountered Vergil in the last few years would be drawn to you. And demons aren’t all that smart. Berial is proof of that.” Dante laughs, “Verge follows you around to ensure that anyone who makes that mistake can face their desired opponent. You won’t have noticed him every time, but you don’t go on a job without Verge sneaking around in your shadow.”
Nero frowns, “Vergil can’t always know when I have a job. I don’t always get them when I’m at the shop.”
“Now is probably a good time to tell you that Verge stalks your house, too. If he sees you getting the van ready or hears you take a call, he’ll go after you. Makes him easy to live with, since he’s only at the shop when you are these days.” Pausing, the half-demon shifts his gaze to look at his companion, giving his nephew a weary smile, “Confession time! I told you I’d come on this job in the hopes that Verge would finally admit he has a human weakness and actually get some sleep. He’s keeping out of your sight so that you don’t notice how tired he’s looking. That it lets him avoid having a real conversation is a bonus. I think I’m the only person he would let protect you in his place. He doesn’t consider anyone else strong enough. And if he ever finds out what went down when we met in Fortuna… well, you’ll have to learn to like your silent stalker because he will not be happy that I let things get that far. Letting you get eaten by that giant statue will absolutely get me kicked off his list of approved babysitters.”
Letting his words settle in, Dante’s eyes are fixed on his nephew. Nero’s hands are clenched tight, both human and mechanical fists shaking. The young hunter has curled in on himself, shrinking in his seat. With a sigh, Dante loops one arm around the younger man, letting Nero bury his face in the red leather coat. The shaking hands move up, gripping the fabric of Dante’s jacket hard enough to tear.
“Fucking asshole.” The material muffles Nero’s voice enough that Dante isn’t sure if the other is crying, “He’s such a fucking ass.”
“Yep. That’s Vergil for you. A prideful prick who thinks he knows best.” Dante strums his fingers through Nero’s hair in the absent rhythm of some song the kid plays in his van whenever Nico isn’t driving, “Don’t worry, Kid, he drives me crazy too.”
“Why can’t he just fucking talk to me? I asked him what he was doing! I asked him! I always ask him!” Nero lifts his head long enough to swipe at his nose with the hand that’s still flesh and blood.
“Verge won’t talk to you because he suspects you’ll forgive him. Or at least try to accept him. That prideful nature, that desire to protect things… Verge has failed you in a whole lot of ways. He won’t forgive himself for that. He doesn’t want you to reward him. He wants to suffer. That means he watches you; he keeps you alive, and that’s all he gets out of the bargain. Your life.” Pretending he can’t see his nephew scrubbing his eyes, Dante frowns, “He probably also thinks it would protect you, if Mundus ever breaks free. That’s what he’s really afraid of. He’s using watching over you as an excuse not to sleep.”
Eyes still red, Nero scowls, “Mundus, the demon who made Trish? I thought you’d defeated him.”
“He’s sealed. I couldn’t destroy him. Sparda didn’t have enough power, and neither did I.” Dante’s eyes narrow. “He may stay sealed, but if he gets free—”
“We all beat him. Together! Which I can’t do if I don’t know what’s going on!” Nero knows he’s snarling loud enough to draw more demons to their seat. He welcomes the challenge. “I said I didn’t want you two to die! That means I help you fight these kinds of things!”
“Nero… I’m a little better with words than my brother, so I won’t say this has nothing to do with you, but—” Glancing around at some approaching sound, Dante scrubs a hand down his face as he rises, “Vergil will never accept your help with Mundus. I can’t tell you what happened to Verge when he fell into the demon realm, you’d have to collar him for that, but I know it’s what manifested V’s demons. Vergil is more demon than you. Vergil had nothing to lose when he took that plunge: remember that you do.”
“He had something to lose, alright, he just didn’t stick around long enough to know about me!” Nero’s eyes stare into nothing as he scowls, “I’m just more responsible than that asshole in that I actually check in with people.”
“Fair point, Kid. Vergil did leave a lot of people behind.” Offering a hand to pull Nero from the seat, the elder hunter rolls his eyes, “I’m afraid that’s the end of our serious discussion. Your little war cry has brought half the neighbourhood to us. Of all the traits to share with Vergil, why does it have to be that anger which comes out when you think someone implies that you’re inferior?”
There’s a mad gleam in Nero’s eyes which makes Dante shake his head, “Alright. At least tear through enough of these demons that you don’t wreck my shop when we get back. Man, I hope Verge realises he’s in trouble when it comes to you, Kid. Like him, I don’t think you have any idea how to walk away from a fight.”