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Dante watched his brother closely. To anyone else at the table, Vergil probably looked calm, stoic, detached even. But Dante knew better. They were brothers, after all; twins in fact. Yeah, sure there was about a twenty year span of no contact between them (no, Dante did NOT count Mallet Island), but they did grow up together as children. Nobody knew Vergil better than him.
And Dante could tell that Vergil was nervous.
It was in the way he gripped the fork in his hand so tightly, his rigid posture, the way his eyes kept darting around the room, taking in his surroundings as if keeping all escape routes open even though it was unnecessary...until they landed on Dante himself.
Dante gave his brother a pointed stare that clearly stated: Isn’t there something you should be doing right now? Which Vergil pointedly ignored as he turned his eyes elsewhere. Dante huffed.
They hadn’t been back from the underworld for long and this was the first chance Vergil really had to try and connect with his son...and of course he was getting cold feet.
Dante supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, considering it was more than just the two of them and Nero sitting down to dinner. Neither of the brothers were the best at communicating, but Vergil was definitely worse considering his lack of experience. Especially since there were others present that he didn’t know very well.
Not that he knew Nero very well, either. Which is probably why he’d grilled Dante for information about his own son while they were stuck in Hell.
“What is Nero like?” Vergil’s question drew Dante’s attention to him. They were currently resting; no devils had found it necessary to try and kill them over the last few hours and sparring, as much as they enjoyed it, did get a bit old after a while. Honestly, Dante figured Vergil would ask eventually, since he couldn’t really discern that for himself now that they were stuck until they found a way home.
“Thought you got a pretty good taste of that already when he beat you.” Dante chuckled when Vergil shot him a glare.
“I meant under normal circumstances.” Vergil already sounded annoyed. Dante figured if he kept this up, it wouldn’t be long before they were fighting again.
“You mean when he’s not pissed at you?” Dante chuckled again when another glare came his way.
“As I recall, he was angry with you as well.”
Dante grimaced as he rubbed his chin, recalling the punch Nero had decked him with. He swore he could still feel it. “Yeah? Well, can you blame him? Kid grew up without any family and once he has one, seems like they’re just trying to kill each other. Course he’s gonna be pissed.”
“So…he grew up alone?” There was the slightest bit of regret laced in Vergil’s question.
Dante sighed. “Sort of.” Vergil turned to regard him as he spoke. “He grew up in an orphanage. Guess he got left there as a baby with no idea who his parents were. Not completely sure about the whole situation ‘cause I didn’t run into him until he was almost twenty. When we did meet, he had a girlfriend and she and her brother treated Nero like family, so I don’t think he was completely alone.”
Vergil looked at him confused for a moment and Dante could tell there was a question on his mind, about to be asked. “Who taught him swordsmanship, then? I thought perhaps you had, but he’s far too good to have learned since only twenty.”
“Ah, that would be Credo.” When Dante didn’t elaborate, Vergil knew he would have to ask since the name was unfamiliar to him.
“Who?”
“His girlfriend’s brother. He was the head of the Knights of the Order of the Sword at the time or something like that. Like I said, those two treated the kid like family.”
“I see.” Vergil looked away, becoming pensive for a moment. “Well, this Credo has been a good teacher for him, then.”
“Was.” When Dante spoke, Vergil turned to look at him in surprise. “He was a good teacher.”
“He is...” Vergil paused going through the various reasons for Dante’s choice of words in his head before deciding on the most likely one. “...dead?”
“Yeah.” It was hard to miss the frown on Dante’s face. It was so different from his normal countenance. “Died trying to save his sister and Nero from some crazed old maniac trying to use the bloodline of our dad for some idiotic world domination plan. That’s how the kid and I first met. I was there trying to stop the old dude. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it in time to save Credo. Nero or Kyrie either, but at least they were needed alive, so I was able to save them later. Guess the old fart thought his own general was expendable, though. Pretty sure the kid still blames himself for that one.”
Vergil went quiet after that, not saying anymore. Apparently, Dante had given him a few things to ponder on for a while.
That had been the first of many conversations about Nero they’d had while trapped in the underworld. Dante of course, hadn’t told Vergil everything, figuring that it would be better for him to discover some things about his son for himself, but he’d given him a start to grasp onto.
Now if only he’d take it.
Perhaps dinner at Nero’s wasn’t the best time to try and get Vergil to talk to his own son. There were too many other people for it to be comfortable to talk about something so personal. Dante only hoped that once dinner was finished Vergil wouldn’t try to beat a hasty retreat to one of those escape routes he seemed to be constantly looking for.
It was when Kyrie stood up to start clearing the table that Dante saw an opportunity. Nero usually helped her with it, but if someone else did…
“Here let me give you a hand with that, Kyrie.” Dante jumped up and immediately started helping her clear away the dirty dishes. This wasn’t exactly his style, but if it gave his brother some time to talk to his son in private, then he’d make an exception. Just this once, though.
“No! That’s alright! You’re a guest here. There’s no need for you to do that! Nero always-” She stopped short when she noticed Dante was covertly gesturing for her to look over her shoulder. When she turned, she saw Vergil doing his best to avoid eye contact with Nero, who seemed to be studying his father intently, but trying to be discreet about it. Of course, he was failing miserably.
It only took a second for the light bulb to go off in Kyrie’s head and she immediately began to play along. “Oh! I mean, of course! I could sure use the help. Thank you so much!”
This drew Nero’s attention to them. Dante met his gaze, then looked at Vergil and rolled his eyes, attempting to convey to his nephew without words that his father wanted to talk, but was being a coward about it. Maybe this way, Nero would take charge instead. He knew the kid wanted to talk to his father, so maybe knowing Vergil wanted to talk to him as well would help break the ice. Luckily, it worked and Nero nodded in response.
Kyrie had just dismissed the boys from the table and Nico had already booked it back to the garage to work on her next project when Dante heard Nero address his father. “Hey, I was gonna head out back and gets some fresh air. You can join me, if you’d like?”
Vergil’s head whipped around to look at his son while Dante and Kyrie slipped away into the kitchen, but they were still listening intently from just the other side of the door.
“That is…acceptable,” was Vergil’s reply.
Dante cringed. He couldn’t see Nero and Vergil anymore, but he could see Kyrie, and she was cringing, too. The unspoken words between them were conveyed with just that look: certainly not the best choice of words, but at least he hadn’t said no.
Thankfully, Nero seemed to take it in stride. “Come on, then. It’s this way.” A few moments later, they heard the back door shut as the two men stepped out onto the porch.
Kyrie looked at him, then. “If you want to keep an eye on them, you’ll be able to see them from the window over the sink. I won’t be able to hear them from outside so there’s no worry about me being privy to anything Vergil doesn’t want others to know, but you might be able to since your hearing is better so if you’d rather give them some privacy…” she trailed off, not sure how he wanted to go about this. The dishes could wait, if need be. This was far more important.
“We can keep an eye on ‘em. If they’re quiet enough, I shouldn’t be able to pick up on what they’re saying. And if I do hear anything, it’s probably gonna be something I already know. I doubt Verg will tell Nero his whole life story the first go around, but thanks for respecting his privacy, anyway.” Dante smiled at her. Nero couldn’t have made a better choice in a girlfriend. Kyrie smiled back and they set to work on the dishes while keeping an eye on the two men now standing on the back porch.
“So...Why did you leave?”
Vergil was jarred out of his thoughts when Nero suddenly spoke. He’d been standing there, admittedly a bit nervous, trying to sort through what would be the best thing to say. But what can you say to a son you practically abandoned?
In a way it was a relief that Nero spoke up first. It gave him a foothold to start with, at least. He was a bit surprised, though. It wasn’t hard to tell that Nero was just as nervous as he was. He was almost certain they would have stood out there the whole time without saying a word.
“You already know this. Yamato was necessary to close the portal. I had no choice but to go.” He knew he probably should have said more, but the words just wouldn’t come. Why was this so difficult?
“Yeah, I know that.” Nero already sounded annoyed and Vergil realized that if he tried to keep his distance, he’d ruin this chance to connect with his son. “I meant before I was born. Why did you...leave?”
Vergil blinked in surprise. That had not been what he thought Nero was referring to, though he supposed he should not have made assumptions in the first place. Of course his son would want to know about why he was left alone as a baby. And Vergil could tell there was more left unspoken than what Nero had conveyed: Why did you leave us? Why did you leave my mother? Why did you leave me? He recalled what Dante had said about how Nero grew up. He deserved an explanation, at the very least.
“I was unaware of your existence. Not that that is an excuse, but I...I was searching for my father’s power. I couldn’t find the answers I needed in Fortuna so I left. I had to.”
The hard look on Nero’s face softened slightly and gave Vergil a bit of confidence that maybe this wouldn’t be a total disaster.
“Why did you need your father’s power so much?” Nero was genuinely curious Vergil noted, but the reasons hit a bit too close to home for him at the moment. Someday. Someday he would tell him everything, but not now. This conversation should focus on his son, not himself.
“Because without strength, you cannot protect anything, let alone yourself.” He knew his answer was vague. They were the same words he’d spoken to his brother all those years ago, except Dante understood what he meant. He only hoped Nero wouldn’t prod further.
Nero, for his part, just looked at his father for a moment. Vergil was half afraid he would ask him to elaborate, but surprisingly, Nero seemed to understand there was a reason for his vagueness and let it slide. His son was perceptive. The barest hint of pride welled up in him and he decided he rather liked the feeling.
They were silent for a few more moments, and while it still felt a bit uncomfortable, it wasn’t nearly as bad as when they’d first stepped out on the porch. That was progress, he supposed.
Apparently, he was silent too long though, because Nero spoke up again, with a different question this time. “Would you have done things differently had you...known about me?”
Now how was he supposed to answer that? It was over twenty years ago. He had been young and determined. He was no longer the same person he was back then, but he feared what the true answer to that question could have been. Would things have been different if he’d known?
“I...don’t know. I’d like to think that I would have, but...” Vergil faltered, unsure of what real answer he could give Nero.
“But?” Nero prodded when he didn’t finish. He was looking at his father expectantly. Nero deserved to know the truth at least, Vergil decided, after everything he’d grown up without.
“I was young. I had a goal and nothing was going to stop me from getting what I wanted, not even my brother; my own flesh and blood.” The reality of what Vergil was trying to convey seemed to hit Nero, but he remained silent, allowing his father to finish. “I can’t say for sure if there was anything that would have swayed my decisions, but I’d like to think you would have. Forgive me if that’s not enough.”
Nero stared at his father. Vergil refused to meet his eyes, worried about what he might find there. Instead he set his gaze on nothing, simply staring out into the night and braced himself for whatever his son may have had to say in response.
“Maybe it wouldn’t have been enough once, but I’m okay with it now. You had your reasons, you didn’t know, and there’s nothing either of us can do to change it now. All we can do is move forward from here, I guess.”
Vergil turned in surprise to look at Nero. That was certainly not what he expected. He seemed to be a far cry from the angry young man he’d fought at the Qliphoth, but then again, that had been a rather tense situation.
Dante had warned him that Nero could be a bit hot-headed at times; that he sometimes let his emotions get the better of him and reacted without thinking. But this side of Nero, Vergil hadn’t anticipated, though it probably shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. This was his son, after all. Right now, he seemed far more mature than his young age would lead one to believe. That small hint of pride was swelling up within him even more now.
But there was also a deep sense of regret coupled with it. He’d missed everything. From before his son was even born until the moment he’d met him on that fateful day, he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t seen his son grow up over the years into the young man before him today and he felt a sudden overwhelming need to apologize for that as well.
“I’m sorry you grew up alone.”
Nero simply shrugged as if it was nothing, which Vergil knew was not the case. “I wasn’t completely alone. May not have been the best situation, but I had Kyrie and Credo so it wasn’t all bad.”
Vergil recalled what he’d heard from Dante about the two siblings that had been the closest thing to family Nero had while growing up. “Dante mentioned that this Credo taught you swordsmanship. I thought at first that perhaps Dante had, but he said you two did not meet until you were almost twenty.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Nero’s voice took on a hard edge, as did his expression. It was easy to see that thinking of his surrogate brother was still a painful memory for him. Vergil wasn’t sure he would be any good at comforting his son in this, but even he knew not trying would be a worse option.
“Dante told me what happened to him. I’m...sorry for the loss our father’s legacy has caused you.”
Nero didn’t respond and Vergil worried if maybe that had been the wrong thing to say, so he tried another approach. “He must have been a very good teacher. It shows in you.”
That got a response. Nero looked up in surprise at his father. “You...you mean that?”
“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. Giving you a false sense of accomplishment would only hinder, not help you. I may have been tired from my fight with Dante, but it was easy to see your level of skill during ours. You learned well.” Vergil smirked then. He was aware that Dante could likely hear their conversation and would never pass up an opportunity to make a jab at his brother. “Far better than you would have if Dante had taught you.”
That got a laugh out of his son. “Definitely,” Nero agreed. “Dante wasn’t very straightforward about a lot of things, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Vergil was confused now. What could Nero mean by that?
“Well, I didn’t even know he and I were related until the Redgrave incident.”
Vergil’s confusion turned to surprise. Dante had never said anything to him before that? “He never told you?”
“Not until you disappeared through that portal after you put yourself back together. Dante kinda just dropped it on me so I wouldn’t keep trying to go after you.” Nero could tell by Vergil’s expression that he wasn’t too happy with his uncle. He certainly didn’t want them fighting again and decided to try and diffuse any possible problem before it could start. “But it’s alright, I guess. Can’t change it now, anyway. Makes me not feel so guilty about stabbing him the first time we met, though.”
That threw Vergil for a loop. “You...stabbed him?” Dante had somewhat glossed over his first meeting with Nero and Vergil was now realizing there may have been a reason for that.
“Yeah well, He kinda dropped in and assassinated the head of the Order in front of the whole congregation. I was a knight under Credo’s command, so we ended up in a fight. Pretty sure he was going easy on me. Still, I impaled him with his own sword because he went a little too easy on me.” The smugness in Nero’s voice was not lost on him.
But disbelief was on Vergil’s face at first. It didn’t last long though, before Nero’s story drew a wry chuckle out of him. He recalled a certain fight with his brother during the Temen-Ni-Gru incident which bore a similar ending for Dante.
“The apple never falls far from the tree, it seems.”
Father and son looked at each other in what might have been a nice moment for the two, but was interrupted by a very familiar voice yelling, “Aw! Come on!” from the direction of the kitchen window.
It was followed by the panicked sound of Kyrie’s voice asking, “Is everything okay?!” which had both men out on the back porch chuckling. Whatever conversation went on in the kitchen after that was blocked from their hearing, but it was unimportant in the moment anyway.
A silence fell over the two of them, but now it was no longer uncomfortable. That feeling of pride in his son, for what he had endured and what kind of life he’d made for himself, was back stronger than ever and Vergil felt the sudden urge to let Nero know how he felt.
“I’m proud of who you are.” Vergil looked his son in the eyes and watched as the reality of what he’d just said dawned on his son’s face.
Nero recovered quickly though, and what he said next Vergil knew he would never forget, for as long as he lived.
“Thanks...Dad.”
Vergil looked away out into the night, afraid of the amount of emotion he might be showing in his expression. But out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Nero was smiling. And now, he was too.