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Nero stares at his father where the old man lays on the couch, his book resting limply against his chest while he snoozes. He's been watching for twenty minutes, but Vergil hasn't so much as twitched throughout that time.
Dante puffs out a breath under his magazine. He, too, has been intermittently napping, but someone should be up to keep an eye on the place. Vergil needs the sleep more than he does. If Dante has to make sure no one's peering in the windows of the closed shop to grant it to him, he will. "You know, he can probably tell you're watching him, even while asleep. He's got a sense for that kinda thing."
"I know that. Well, the sensing me thing, not the sleep-radar thing."
"Then why're you still staring at him?"
Nero makes a face. "Just never seen him sleep before."
"He's been burning the candle at both ends cleaning up the whole Red Grave mess. This is probably the first he's slept more than two hours at a time since we went down to the underworld."
"Yeah, but.... Why didn't he sleep in his room?"
Dante sighs, tosses his magazine aside, and drops his chair onto all four legs. "This place has exactly two functional heating vents. One in my room, and the other right next to that couch. I locked up the shop for the day once I realized he was really asleep down here, but don't tell him."
Nero glances at the shop doors. He stayed the night last night, but he never heard anyone so much as move down here to sleep, lock the doors, or otherwise. "It's hot as fuck in here already."
"Clearly, you're not familiar with demon dens."
"Calling this place a den is a bit generous, don't you think?"
The half-devil shrugs. "It's as close as we're going to get. Besides, he's conked out. Long as nothing demonic approaches the shop, he should be able to get some decent shut-eye. Actually, you know what?" Dante stands and strolls over to the couch, carefully sliding the gilt book from his still fingers. Vergil's body tilts unconsciously toward his brother and Dante rubs a hand down his shoulder. He turns Vergil partway onto his side, slips a couch pillow under his head, and crouches beside him. When one of his brother's eyes cracks open with drowsy confusion, Dante smiles. "Hey, there. You just stay asleep, all right?"
The eye closes.
Nero frowns. "If Lady were here, she'd point out that you're coddling a mass murderer."
"And what are you gonna point out, kid?" Dante asks, a warning edge to his voice. If that's not a massive sign warding off any untoward comments, Nero isn't sure what is.
Fortunately for Nero, he doesn't have any such comments. "You didn't cover his toes."
Dante glances over his shoulder, a curious look on his face. Nero understands his skepticism. Vergil and Nero don't always get along great, but... the old man is trying. He wants to make amends, even if he doesn't know how or goes about things the wrong way. More than that, terrible as he is at it, Vergil attempts to connect with Nero here and there. It's entertaining... and endearing. Sometimes, he'll look at Nero and make the young hunter wonder if the half-devil sees his mother in him.
Nero certainly sees his father in himself. More than he'd like sometimes.
The red twin tugs at the end of the blanket, curling it over Vergil's feet like Nero suggested. "You really look like him, you know."
"I know," Nero murmurs, eyeing his father's slack face. "I borrowed one of his shirts after a messy job once, one of those turtlenecks, and Nico didn't stop giving me shit for it for a month."
He won't ever tell Nico that he kept it, or Vergil that he took it. It was sappy and selfish, but Nero likes having a piece of his family with him. When he sits at home with Kyrie while the kids are at school, it's nice to have proof they're out there. That reassurance means a lot.
"He asked me if I stole it," Dante says, meeting Nero's eye with a sly smile. "Don't worry. I won't tell."
Nero blushes furiously. Of course, Dante would know. "Thanks."
He's absolutely mortified by how squeaky that one word was, but Dante merely grins and makes a zipping motion across his lips. Nero brushes his nose and looks away. His eyes are drawn back to his father in no time at all and he watches his uncle smooth down his twin's hair. A few strands stubbornly stick out of his hairline. Nero tilts his head. His father's hair is never anything short of perfection.
Vergil's brow creases in his sleep.
"I know, buddy," Dante murmurs, tugging the blanket up a bit higher on his shoulder. "I'll quit messing with you in a minute." As Dante moves to pull away, a hand snakes out from under the blanket and grips his shirt. The half-devil stares at his brother. "Well.... All right, then. I guess I'm stuck now."
Nero snorts. "The old man really must be tired, huh?"
"Uh, yeah. You could say that." Dante relents and sits beside the couch. His gaze settles on something just over Nero's shoulder. "Although, I don't think you're getting out of this unscathed either, kiddo."
Nero glances over his shoulder and nearly jumps a foot in the air when he sees his father's doppelganger behind him. It chirps, snagging Nero with its tail when he tries to flee and pulling him back against its chest. Nero looks to his uncle for help, scowling when Dante shoots him a pitying smile and a hapless shrug.
"No can do, Nero. Old man wants to cuddle, we're cuddling."
The doppelganger lifts Nero off his feet, carrying him over to the couch and placing him beside Dante. His uncle chuckles, peering into its translucent eyes when they meet his and accepting its friendly nuzzle.
"Sure is touchy-feely when he's tired," Nero grumbles, only slightly bitter about the doppelganger's act of entrapment.
"Not usually. Think he's just feeling the isolation a bit more today."
Nero tilts his head. "I thought he liked to be alone."
"Liking being alone and liking being lonely are two different things. After living most of his life without anyone else around, he's used to it, but that doesn't mean he likes it." Dante untangles his brother's fingers from his shirt, twining their hands together instead. "Besides. How could someone born with a twin ever enjoy being lonely? I sure as hell didn't. Lady and Trish are good to have in your corner, but they ain't the same. Nowhere close."
The young devil hunter nods slowly, startling when the doppelganger musses his hair and disappears in a shower of sapphire motes.
Dante smiles, his carefree mask cracking away as he glances between Nero and his brother. In that smile, Nero witnesses grief and insurmountable joy coiling together, woven so closely separating one from the other would destroy it entirely. "You've probably heard by now that I killed him once, yeah?"
"Yeah. From Morisson."
"I... wasn't the same after. How could I be?" Dante's face falls, but his fingers grip Vergil's hand a little tighter. "I killed him, yeah, but I killed a part of me, too. And that? That was the loneliest I ever felt. The worst fucking pain I've ever experienced, and trust me, I've experienced a lot." The red twin pulls his knees up, resting his free arm across them. "I hurt him then more than he ever hurt me. Physically, anyways."
Nero tilts his head to better see his uncle's expression. "He needed you, though. I sure as hell couldn't have weakened Urizen enough for he and V to rejoin."
Dante huffs, nodding slightly. "I know, kiddo, but like hell would you have accepted it back then. You were ready to fight me just for a go at him. Always been a hothead, but... we love you for it. You get your stubbornness from your old man, you know."
Rubbing at his nose, Nero ducks his gaze away from his uncle's. "I've noticed."
"He's proud of you."
Yeah, Nero noticed that, too. He sits with Dante in embarrassed silence.
"You know, I don't think we've thanked you, yet," Dante says suddenly. "Your old man and I are pretty bullheaded. You come by it honestly enough, that's for sure, but we both needed an ass-kicking that day, not just him. I'm proud of you, too, even if you jumping in between us scared the living shit out of me. So.... Thanks, Nero."
"I'd say it was no trouble, but you two are more of a handful than three orphans."
Dante laughs, genuine and mirthful. "Oh, I'm aware."
"Personally, I'm just glad you two aren't trying to kill each other anymore. I can take all the bickering and scuffles, but I draw the line at murder."
"And we're ever so grateful."
Nero flushes pink to the tips of his ears when those words come from his father's mouth just behind him. As he wonders if he can turn any redder, he feels a distinct pressure at the crown of his hair. Dante's laughter and Vergil's sleepy chuckle flow together.
Not for the first time since finding his family, a gentle warmth stirs in Nero's core. For as much as they needed him, and as much as they needed one another, Nero needed them, too.
One day, he hopes they understand just how much.