Archive of Our Own ^beta

Nero was naturally woken up by the sun and groggily realized his life will be objectively miserable for the foreseeable future.

Stuffy nose, swimmy head, an unscratchable itch in the back of his throat and he was feeling a little colder than usual even though he's sweating… Or just feeling like shit in general. His sore throat since yesterday was actually a prelude.

Thing is, he's been sleeping in the shop for the last day or two since quite a few jobs popped up after a wannabe cult meddled with things beyond their understanding and unleashed a mini demon invasion in the human world. That got solved pretty quick with all three Spardas around but there's still some stragglers running about.

'Hey, for once it's not you, eh Vergil?' Was what Dante said, much to his mother's lack of amusement.

Ah well, cold or not, he's got to face the world.

Nero pulls his covers away, being greeted by the sting of a cool environment, (the heater fucking broke again. Fuck's sake, Dante) trying to get on his feet lends him a good measure of regret. Either he got up too fast and now his brain is bloodless or it's just the dizziness that comes with being sick– or both, probably. Balance was a distant dream for Nero and he tried to twist around to at least fall backwards to bed.

 He fell face first on the ground with a pretty loud thud instead, only by a stroke of luck he managed not to break his nose.

"Kid? You good up there?" His uncle yells from downstairs. "Kid?" The hell is Dante doing awake before noon?

Nero tried to speak but a cough stopped him right then and there.

"Neeerrrooo?" Dante keeps yelling from downstairs, fueling a growing headache. 

Nero managed to at least get back on his ass and lean his back on the bedframe before, surprisingly, Vergil burst through the door, Yamato in hand and rapidly checking every corner of the room before letting her cold gaze fix solely on him. He could almost swear he saw something other than the endless ice of her eyes, but it was gone before he could pin what it was.

Disappointment, probably.

She doesn't say a thing, before teleporting over to him, short slicked back bangs of silver hair defying the laws of physics and remaining perfectly styled. Vergil gets down on one knee and lays two fingers on the side of his neck with a blank expression. Checking for a pulse? even though his pathetic ass is staring right at her in confusion? She visibly relaxes as the fact he is obviously alive, but frowns when she keeps the fingers on his neck for a moment longer.

"Have you been hexed? Poisoned?" Vergil's usual nasal and indifferent tone is spiked with something Nero can't identify.

"Relax, it's just a-" His voice is like a steel brush on sandpaper and Vergil's eyes widen.

"Nero? The hell happened?" Dante questions as he comes in, crouching just beside him as well, voice dripping with undisguised concern.

Vergil removes her fingers from his neck and faces her brother. "Something is wrong with him. His skin feels hot and his voice is..." Vergil stops, gesturing for Nero to speak.

Nero sighs, eliciting a cough denouncing of all the mucus stuck on Nero's trachea as he clears his throat. He sits back on the bed while the twins stand up. "It's just a cold." There, his voice came out much better.

Neither sibling looked relieved.

"... I don't think colds do that...?" Dante's voice was uncharacteristically timid and full of doubt. The endless bravado of the legendary devil hunter was nowhere to be seen.

Nero looks at his dumbass uncle with an equally dumb expression. "If you're outta luck then yeah, they do... What? You've never been sick before?"

It's the twins' turn to stare at each other with inscrutable expressions.

"Don't you fucking tell me you assholes don't get sick." Nero says, somewhat incredulous.

Dante scratches the back of his head. 

Vergil averts her gaze elsewhere.

"Of fucking course-" Nero's imminent profanities were cut off by a nasty cough that easily got the idiots' attention back to him.

"You're sure you're alright, kiddo? That didn't really sound good…" Dante questions, putting a hand on Nero's shoulder.

The youngest sparda opts to ignore it. "Yeah. I don't get sick often, sucks when I do but I get better fast." Something about the way they're looking at him, especially Vergil, puts a chip on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

"Uh-huh." Dante says, completely worried. "Will you get better?"

"I'll be good in two- maybe three days at worst."

Dante forces on a grin, his humoristic mask sliding on as quickly as it was gone. "Great! Hear that, Verge? Kid's gonna be up and kicking in no time." Dante's voice shows some relief. None of which can be said for Vergil, who hasn't so much as blinked. "So what do you do until then? Eat soup and sleep?"

Nero was gonna say he wasn't exactly wrong, but Vergil seemed to get knocked out of her trance just to spite her twin. "Foolishness, Dante. Don't you remember when mother had been sick once? Nero needs to stay hydrated and eat plenty of saltine crackers."

That's a nice piece of trivia from his grandmother, Nero thinks. "No, that's for a stomach bug, I've got a cold. Which means i just need water, some vaguely heathy food and sleep." Nero explained.

His mother tilts her head like a fucking owl. "A stomach... Bug? You refer to a parasite?"

...What? Oh right, from whatever little Nero knows, Vergil spent a good chunk of her life in hell and human problems aren't something she has a good grasp on. Even Dante, to a point. The man's a vampire that either haunts his office or a nearby bar. "It's just a figure of speech. It's a broad term for whatever illness you got that doesn't let you hold any food down."

Understanding dawns on her features. "Ah... Still, Dante, bring him water and food– procure adequate medicine as well. I'll stand by for any complications."

What the fu-

"Gotcha, I'll see if I've got any meds in the bathroom closet. By the way kid, how healthy does lasagna leftovers sound? Lunch was an hour ago."

Nero is more stunned by his family being all helicoptery than by the fact he well overslept his usual routine, he's usually up by seven at the latest. "I-it's fine, i guess." He wipes his nose, even though nothing's dribbling out yet. "Meds don't work on me, by the way."

Vergil's frown deepened and her head did the same head tilt one would correlate to a confused dog. "Why not? You are human enough to get sick, surely a human remedy would prove effective?" 

Nero coughs to clear his throat. "I'm human enough to get sick but I'm also just demon enough for the meds to get burned off. Go figure."

The look the twins gave him just soured his whole week.

"Aww, kiddo..." Dante says while ruffling Nero's hair. "I'll get you the best lasagna you'll ever eat, just you wait."

He bats away Dante's hand, no matter how much better it made him feel. Nero's not much in a position to start yelling a couple flowery words at the fact they feel pity for him. "Bring some tissues too, old man."

"Comin' right up!" Dante chirps before leaving Nero and Vergil alone in the same room for as long as it takes for him to fetch all the requested stuff.

The awkward silence kicks in fast. Vergil crosses her arms and doesn't seem like she's leaving anytime soon. Which is a problem, since Nero doesn't feel like going anywhere.

So he gets back to laying on the bed, paying no mind to the fact it feels like plopping down on a pile of fresh laundry. All he can really worry about is the fact that his mother is just standing there like a statue, watching him like a hawk.

"You're just gonna stay there all day?" Nero inquires, wiping his nose with his forearm.

"If I must." Vergil says, as if standing around a sick guy for a few days is completely normal.

"At least get a chair or something." Nero says, coughing to get rid of an itch on the back of his throat, to which Vergil disappears for a grand total of seven seconds and reappears back with a plastic lawn chair.

Nero blinks, pretends he didn't just see that, then rolls on his other side. If she just stole it or Dante had one in some dark corner of the shop it's none of his concern.

Trying to ignore his mother's eyes burning holes through him is his concern however. -Nero very pointedly ignores the fact someone pulled the cover over him.-

About a minute later, Dante pops in, carrying a tray with lasagna, a big glass of water and a whole roll of toilet paper along with a bin.

"Heya kid, got you some- woah." He stops as he lays eyes on the lawn chair where his sister sits.

Vergil notices the younger twin's abrupt stop. "Dante?" 

That seemed to kick Dante out of whatever stupor he got into. "Just some weird deja vu. Anyways, kid, here's your lunch!"

Getting his head out of the pillow is a challenge in and of itself. Now, having to eat and drink and only then go back to sleep... 

"Can I eat later? Not really hungry right now..." Nero mewls without getting up.

"If I recall, you haven't eaten anything since yesterday's dinner. You need the energy, Nero, especially in your current state. Eat." Vergil puts it bluntly, calling Nero out on his bullsh-

Wait. She's keeping track of his meals?

By spite alone, Nero sighs– coughs– and sits upright. 

Dante has the most shit eating grin ever as he sets the bin on the ground near the bed and hands over the tray to Nero. "As they say kiddo, mother knows best."

Both mother and son scowl identically at the uncle, whose grin shamelessly widens. "Bon appetit!"

Nero mutters a creative jumble of profanity under his breath while Vergil rolls her eyes.

One eagerly guzzled glass of water and a not so eagerly consumed lasagna later and Nero was ready to plop back down and go to Dreamland. Except Dante put a cool feeling hand on his forehead. 

"Shit... That not how a forehead's supposed to feel..." He goes back to messing up Nero's hair. "Feels a tad too hot. How about a shower to cool off?"

This isn't even the worst fever Nero's had and it's by very fucking far. Because that title goes to when he had the flu some 2 years before the Qliphoth debacle. He was fucking delirious then, everything hurt almost to the point he couldn't breathe. Poor Kyrie didn't let him leave the cold bathtub until he was de facto better and fully lucid. This one is annoying at worst.

That doesn't mean he doesn't feel dirty.

"Yeah, guess I could use one." Nero blows his nose and throws the tissue in the bin, the green mucus a clear sign of infection. "And a change of clothes would be nice too."

"I'll change your bedding. It's currently disgusting and you require better." Vergil says before sauntering out the room, lawn chair vanishing in a blue distortion, leaving Dante to tend to his nephew.

"Need me to carry you?" 

Nero feels and probably looks like he got slapped in the face. "Hell n-!" 

"Tough luck, kid!" Dante says flippantly as he grabs Nero in a bridal carry while looking far too pleased by receiving death threats from his nephew.

A couple punches later and Nero finally gets into the shower without Dante trying to run him a bath. Not cold, not hot. Good enough. 

As he rinses away the sweat and other gunk, Nero ponders on wether he should just tell them not to fuss. It's just a cold, not even a bad flu, no need to literally carry him around as if he couldn't stand on his own. 

Yet some selfish part of him can't help but see where this goes. It's obvious they're both tense as hell. Nero's learned to peek through Dante's carefree facade, the small wavers of his dumb grin or smirks that look painfully forced only happen when he's really nervous, while Vergil just not getting her eyes off him is freaky enough on its own.

Usually she just ignores him– hell, won't even look at him in the eye most of the time. Now she's being a helicopter parent? What the fuck is it with her? 

Isn't Nero just a mistake of her youth which she doesn't wanna bother with? Vergil certainly didn't bother with him when she left a baby on the doorstep of an orphanage… Or is there something else?

Nero blows his nose again and lets the gross flow down the drain, then grabbing a towel and some fresh clothes Dante separated for him. 

Black sweatpants and a blue t-shirt. Oversized of course, because Dante is built like a loaded freight train, but It'll do.

Dante was waiting just outside the door and tapping his foot to some incoherent rythm this whole time, as Nero finds out upon exiting the bathroom. "You done? Great! Let's get you back to-"

"Oh, fuck no!" Nero says as he manifests his wings, ready to fight off his uncle if he tries to carry him again. "I can walk just fine, asshole!"

Dante does not relent, sigils of his Royal Guard flaring. "I cam wak jut faine." He mocks with a high pitched voice, while he once again carries Nero through the shop as the impact of Nero's bringers on Dante's guard make it seem like it's raining glass. Nero is all but frothing at the mouth from sheer anger and frustration.

Upon reentering his room, Nero's blinding fury turns to confusion, as he sees more than one mattress strewn on the ground, a bunch of comforters, pillows, duvets and blankets all positioned into a U shape on the furthest corner from the door.

While Vergil is there arranging the chaos into something looking almost organized.

"What the fuck"

"Ooh, looks good." Dante says, ignoring Nero. "Hold up, how'd you fit the mattresses through the door?"

"By force." Vergil puts simply.

Then she does the strangest thing. A thing Nero thought would never fucking happen for many more reasons than he could bother to list, but Vergil walked over to Dante and picked Nero up like a damn newborn. Sheer disbelief makes sure Nero is perfectly frozen still, letting Vergil carry him around like he weighs nothing.

"Are you feeling well?" She questions as he is moved over and placed in the middle of the comfy... Nest? Can it be called that?

"Nero?" Vergil calls just beside him in clear concern. He must be hallucinating. His fever must be comically high. There's is no fucking way-

"I'm fine." He furiously rubs his nose. "What's with you two? I'm not fucking dying if that's what you're worried about."

Vergil's lips press into a thin line while Dante's shoulders tense.

"I'm serious. I've had worse and you know it."

Dante moves closer, sitting down on the opposite corner of the whole mess. "Yeah, but... Doesn't hurt to make sure you're gonna be fine, does it?" 

"Physical injuries are of no consequence for demons or cambions. An illness, however… I have never seen nor is there any record of devils falling ill. I will not take chances." Vergil adds.

Nero doesn't really know how to handle all this. He's not dying and that's a fact, but these idiots can't process that, apparently. 

An irritated huff escapes him. "For fuck's sake, you guys are making a mountain out of an anthill. You don't have to do all..." Nero gestures around to the madness around him. "This! It's just a cold, damnit."

"Regardless, you should rest." Vergil says, while wrapping a bunch of blankets around Nero with so much care and caution that he can barely believe this is the same woman that easily ripped his arm off a couple months ago.

Nero probably looks like a burrito and he's too shocked by Vergil's abnormal behavior to do something about it, opting to just stay quiet and still until, eventually, Vergil deems him insulated enough and places him in the most comfy pile of bedding in the back of the nest.

Nero wants to laugh and scream and cry at the sheer absurdity of whatever the fuck is currently taking place. "You know what? You weirdos do whatever, I'm just gonna take a nap." Convincing the twins of anything is a challenge of its own unique caliber. One Nero's not gonna bother with when his head feels as detached from his body as he is confused.

"Go ahead kiddo, you earned it." Dante says and Vergil hummed in agreement.

Nero ignores the fact the twins just agreed on something. He tries to think of something better than this weird ass day in an attempt to soothe his short circuting mind. Think of home and Kyri-

Ah shit.

"Dante?" Nero calls, continuing when his uncle acknowledges him. "Do me a favor and tell Kyrie I'm not gonna be home for a few days. Don't wanna spread this to her or the kids."

"I gotcha kid-"

"Wait. Don't tell her I'm sick."

Dante smiles. "Awww. You're seeing this Verge? Your baby boy doesn't wanna worry his princess. Such a gentlem-"

"Shut the fuck up." Nero snaps, much to Dante's amusement and… relief?

"Alrighty then. I'll come up with some excuse for the gal."

With that, Dante exits the room. Leaving Vergil to once again try to kill Nero with her near unblinking stare. Not even a scowl or frown, just a stare.

Nero's getting tired of this shit, but it's not like he's unused to it.

Vergil always makes a point to sit across from him on Nico's van if they go hunting together, even if she never really talks to him and keeps her eyes glued to whatever book got her interest.

Occasionally, he'll catch her glancing at him, to which she immediately snaps her eyes back to the book and pretends Nero doesn't exist for a while. Or when she looks out the window and sneakily stares at his reflection in the glass if the lighting is right, until he catches her looking at him that way and instead of pretending to just be looking out the window, she'll actually snap her eyes back to her books. It's happened far more than once.

Every look of almost… pride after exterminating a pack of demons, every awkward moment it seems like she's about to say something to him but stays silent… 

Every longing look she gives Nero and Dante whenever they're goofing around…

Part of him wants to say that if she gave a shit about him, she'd already have made that clear. There's hardly a thing that Vergil can't do with perfection. Forming an actual mother-son relationship shouldn't be that hard if she put her mind to it.

The other part of him wants to take Dante's advice that "Your mom is an emotionally stunted psycho samurai" to heart.

The one time Vergil's doppelganger decided to cup his cheeks and pat his head is entrenched deep in Nero's memory. The fact Vergil never pulled it out again also stuck with him.

"Can you pass me a tissue?" Nero asks.

Vergil complies immediately, a blue distortion forming around her hand to reveal a roll of toilet paper, before doing the same for the bin and setting it just beside him as Nero blows his nose. He's really ought to learn that pocket dimension trick one day. (Maybe he could ask… no. She wouldn't teach him… would she?)

Nero finds it weird that Vergil seemed very fixated on analyzing the mucus covered tissue. Her nostrils flared and some small observation he made of the woman some hunts ago tells him that she only does that to track blood.

Where the fuck did Dante go? Having Vergil as this ultra intimidating helicopter parent is somehow scarier than fighting her. Granted, they never fought again beyond the Qliphoth, just sparred. But even then, she never even unsheathed Yamato. Always parrying or dodging and occasionally letting Nero land a blow or two– she once gave him a judgment cut but that's about it. That went on until he got bored or tired, usually both, before deciding he's got better shit to do.

He always noticed that she almost seemed a little more reclusive after it, furthering his notion of 'she doesn't care', not even staring at him from afar as she'd usually do –But when she spars with Dante they'll come back looking like they went for a dive in an ocean of blood.

Does she not want to fight him because she doesn't want to bother? Or because she doesn't want to hurt him? Maybe it's time he rethinks a thing or two.

Before he could put his head to work, Dante makes his way in with a cup of tea, filling the room with a cinnamon scent.

"Hey, kid." Dante chirps. "So i talked to your lady... I told her that a few more jobs popped up and you wouldn't be home for a while but I might have done an oopsie on the delivery."

Oh god. "What did you do?" Nero asks.

Vergil decides to give her own statement. "Dante is a horrible liar."

"Bull. Anyway, Kyrie told me to make you some leaf water and keep you hydrated, so here ya go." Dante sits opposite to Vergil and hands the cup to his nephew.

Great. He should probably call later and say it's nothing major. "Eh… not surprised Kyrie caught you. Taking care of three kids makes you good at spotting bullshit." Nero says, clearing his throat as he accepts the cup, blowing at the tea until it's cooled enough to drink.

Kyrie had always been stupid good at figuring people out. Hell, she figured Nero out far before he ever had any good idea of himself. From when he was at the orphanage to when he was taken in by her family– He's been nothing short of devoted to her and will remain so until she realizes she can get a much better man than him or until he dies. But until then he'll just cherish that the universe accidentally assigned a goddess to an idiot and he's going to make every minute they spend together count.

"Considering Dante's status as an overgrown child, you should think twice before sending him off on such affairs." Vergil advices.

It was only natural for Dante to rise to the bait. "Oh? But don't you love your overgrown little brother?"

"I'd love cutting him down to size, yes."

Nero quickly tunes out their banter, instead focusing on enjoying how warm the tea makes him feel, how it soothes his sore throat and reminds him of an oh so gentle aura, a careful hand cupping his jaw and a firm voice shooting down his stubbornness and telling him to rest. The warmth pooling in his stomach and spreading out only incites his sleepiness. This is bliss.

He would have dropped his head on the pillows and fainted had he not smelled ozone. Turns out the banter had escalated and now the twins were all but ready to trigger and start mauling each other to death.

"Hey!" Nero had to interfere, immediately lamenting raising his voice as he massages his throat. It feels like he swallowed a pack of rusty, greasy nails and his voice reflected as much. "No fighting."

Even then he must have sounded really severe. The twins stopped damn near instantly, swapping out their violent glee for a distant, hazy stare in his direction. Almost as if they're looking at Nero but seeing someone else.

"Sorry" Dante says with a small chuckle.

"Apologies." Vergil looks away with a somber smile.

Nero could question what this new weird bullshit is about but he knows he isn't gonna get anything out of them. So he just drinks the rest of his tea and coughs a bit, while the twins behave like actual adults, for once.

What-fucking-ever with these two.

Nero picks one of the pillow piles and blankets to lay against and tries his best to sleep. Much to his chagrin, it doesn't work. The best he gets is being close to dozing off but still awake enough to eavesdrop on the siblings.

"What do you know of human illnesses?" Vergil, maybe, questions.

"Not much. Trish obviously doesn't get sick, I'm pretty sure Morrison has more than one double and Lady… isn't her blood holy or some shit like that?"

"So Nero's ailment is new to you?"

"Unless you wanna hear about some cheap zombie movies then yeah, pretty much. Now, besides that I just know that if you're sick there's a non zero chance you might, uh, die."

Silence. Long and heavy, Nero almost fell asleep. There's zero chance he'll die of a cold but whatever.

"I will not allow it, cost what it may." Vergil stated. An absolute truth.

Ok…? Why would Vergil even do that?

Dante sighed, but didn't seem to have any problems with that. "Guess I'm on the same boat. You got any clue?"

Vergil's hums. "The closest i have gotten to being ill was when I was falling apart before… his arm."

"Oh… you know he doesn't hold it against you, right? You were dying and all."

"That's no excuse." Vergil snapped.

"It fucking is." Nero stirs from his ever near, yet unreachable slumber, coughing once. " If it meant you wouldn't die then it is a good excuse– And don't try to argue. It was my arm so I say what justifies ripping it off or not."

Both twins stare at him for a few moments. "Nero…" is all Vergil can say, finally showing some emotion other than disdain for Dante. It was eerily similar to the 'Nero' she said on the Qliphoth, one filled with as much confusion as some other emotion he scarcely believes Vergil can feel.

Dante kicks Vergil's foot, smug as can be. "Told ya he didn't hold it against you."

"You're not dead and it grew back. Could have been worse." Nero throws in just because he'd rather lose a whole arm again than let his family die.

Vergil's expression carefully composes itself to neutrality with evident years of practice, before she gives a weary sigh. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping? It's past your nap time."

Nero still remembers the burning, throbbing fury he felt when Vergil told him that on top of the Qliphoth. That she said nap time instead of bedtime somehow insulted him more. "Oh, fuck you-" Nero bites back, before coughing to get rid of an itch on the back of his throat.

Nero kept coughing and coughing, sometimes wet mucus would pass by his trachea, sometimes it would be dry and painful. Cough after cough until his abdomen hurt like a bitch, no matter how much he tried to control his breathing and stop the damn fit. He wasn't sure what the twins where doing but one thing is sure, he did not stop coughing and It was only getting worse. Think if Nico's lungs weren't impervious to the damage caused by smoking bad. Really bad.

"Kid?" Dante asked worriedly and Nero sucked in a breath to hack harder, trying to get rid of the coughing fit once and for all.

He did and, good savior, it sounded nasty.

"Jesus, Shit-! Vergil we gotta-!" Dante shrieked.

Something slammed on his chest as he fell backwards to the soft mattress and Nero felt like he was about to explode. Power flooded his body to capacity and it changed accordingly. It was euphoric. It was confusing.

His coughing fit was staved off by pure shock and he opened his eyes to see both twins on each side of his vision, Vergil with her hand on his chest and letting a steady flow of blue energy into him, the other supporting the back of his head with tender care and slightly trembling. Dante was off on his other flank, holding on to his hand and shoulder like a lifeline.

"Nero, are you alright?!" Dante didn't even bother to put on a smirk or a chirpy tone. He's scared shitless and it shows.

"Nero? Speak to me, my son..." Nero cannot put into words how deeply unnerving it is to hear Vergil so concerned. For a split second he thought he might have been on his last legs but… it's a fucking cold.

Did they...They did. The twins panicked over a fucking coughing fit. He'd fucking laugh if they didn't look to terrified. 

First he gets Vergil's hand to stop pumping him up with power. "You idiots really panicked over a cough?" He says with a demonic reverberation, ironically with the urge to cough, even triggered.

"It sounded like you were fucking dying, Nero." Dante breathed.

"Well I wasn't and I'm not abou-" Nero was cut off by being pulled tight against Vergil's chest. A very tight hug as if to not let even the grim reaper rip him out of her arms.

She would probably break his spine if Nero was in human form. Dante was absolutely readying his mental state to throw a comment at the scene and Nero could not be more confused.

"I cannot lose you, Nero. No matter what."

Oh. 

Well… that's one way to find out your mother would give a shit if you died. Or finding out that she really doesn't want you to die at all is pretty good too.

Nero blinks once and wonders how the fuck he got here, but without options, he slowly hugs her back, careful not to let his horns scratch her jaw even if instinct demands he do it and mindful to not let his claws rip open her back. His heightened hearing can easily pick up Vergil's heartbeat at this negligible distance.

It's like someone gave cocaine to a jackhammer.

"I-It was just coughing fit. I know it sounded bad but I wasn't gonna die."

"We know, kiddo. We know." Dante says as his arms wrap around them both with an unsteady breath. " But I don't think we'd take losing you."

God fucking damnit. Since when did he matter so much to them? Sure as fuck didn't seem like it when they were perfectly content skipping off to hell or Dante keeping him at arms length since before the Qliphoth disaster. Or just… Vergil.

Nothing is simple with these idiots, Nero resolves as he realizes he can only do so much to keep his own bubbling emotions in.

His family. The one he wanted so much and for so long… They want him too.

"Nero? Is something wrong?" Vergil asks in clear concern as she releases their embrace- to which Nero nearly whines- and cups his cheeks with both hands.

"S-shut up, mom." Nero finally musters up the courage to fucking say it. To say that goddamn word every other kid threw around to their mothers like it's nothing special before he can't hold in his emotions any longer and gets to clinging on to Vergil again. Shame be damned.

His mother looked like someone that just had a bucket of ice dunked on them, while Dante is nurturing a big smirk, but she indulges his clingyness nonetheless.

 "Hush, my boy." Vergil tenderly placed on hand on the back of his neck, before using the other to pet his scalp and bring him closer. "Shh. It's alright."

"Don't cry, kiddo…" 

Nero will deny until he dies that he cried, or that he found Vergil and Dante's purring in response to his devilish whines to be comforting.

He had to ask for a tissue more than once, since his not-tears made his nose run even more than it already had. The result of doing so in trigger is that the snot became a weird blue-green phlegm that was even grosser than normal and they ended up running out. 

Nero felt bad that Dante had to go get more but it didn't last, thanks to Vergil. She sat behind him, crossed her legs and put a pair of pillows over them, before guiding Nero's head to rest there. Always having one hand laying over his heart while giving him a trickle of power every now and then. Nero didn't have it in him to even be embarrassed anymore. Telling her she doesn't have to do this just got himself hushed as she lined the delicate feathers of his horns with a finger or played with the long hair of his trigger form. 

Being triggered doesn't really help getting rid of his cold and his mother doesn't seem keen on letting him naturally expend the extra energy she's giving him. It's alright, Nero thinks. By aura alone he can feel Vergil regenerating more energy than she's giving him, the only reason he's not getting even more power pumped into him is because he's already filled to the brim. It seemed as a comfort to both of them.

Eventually, they all calmed down back to normality.

Nero can't help but feel guilty in the long silence that settled in. "Sorry I scared you two."

"Don't sweat it, kid. Just tell us if I should throw a vital star or two in your face." Dante tries to reassure him.

"You wouldn't have any more golden orbs in that latrine you call your room, would you?" Vergil briefly breaks her minutious watch of Nero to question the red hunter.

Golden orbs? You only use one if you're in a really bad spot-

"I think I do, actually. Hold on, I'm gonna check." Dante says as he gets up to leave the room once again. "Anything happens, you yell."

Nero can only sigh. He really wants these dumbasses to understand he's not gonna get offed by a cold but some part of him really just wants to stay comfortable under Vergil's watch. Something about her fingers combing through his hair just makes him want to curl into a ball and let the oppressive sense of safety take over.

She… cares about him. Strange as the notion may seem, it's true. 

Nero's better judgment gets the better of him just as Vergil flows a little more power down her arm and into his chest. "Look, i know you're worried and all but I promise I'll be fine."

Vergil's apprehension can be felt. "I'm simply ensuring your heart keeps beating."

Savior give him patience. "I mean it. You know when I said I had worse? It wasn't just getting thrown around or slashed up too hard. I've gotten much sicker and got off just fine."

He might have said something wrong because Vergil's hand pressed down ever so slightly harder over him.

"How worse?"

Time to worry his mother to death. "Like coughing up blood bad."

Vergil tensed. "Nero… will you…?"

Nero almost flinched at the spike of concern rolling off in waves from Vergil, but didn't shy away from it. "No. That only happened when I had a really bad flu. My fever was so high I was rambling to Kyrie about turning into a crab."

The hand Vergil used to play with Nero's hair went to his forehead. Nero could practically taste the mounting worry Vergil was exuding and it felt oddly bemusing, although he does feel a little guilty.

"Before you ask, no. This isn't nearly as bad and i don't think it gets worse than this." Sometimes, Nero can get worse before he gets better, but he's being fawned over enough as is. "Don't worry."

"What if it does get worse?"

"It probably won't."

Vergil's lips curl. "Luck isn't a particularly strong trait of Sparda's blood."

Considering the family history, it's very hard to ignore that statement.

"Again, it probably won't." Nero reiterates.

Vergil's breath spiked in irritation. "Don't be complacent. What if it does?"

If it was anything really bad, Nero would already be in a rough spot right now. "Won't change much. I'm probably just gonna need more tissues. I'm not dying either way."

She bit the inside of her cheek. "If you say so." Vergil starts playing with the long bangs again. "Are all human illnesses this… obtuse?"

"They're annoying, yeah, but they won't kill me." He'll say it until his voice dies, if it's what it takes.

Vergil fixes her gaze on a small pile of bedding on the side. Retrieving it would mean having to jostle him around a bit, and the occasional crash and bang means Dante is still fucking around in his room.

After a moment of careful consideration on Vergil's side, her doppelganger pops out and starts enveloping Nero in every kind of cover available, once again making Nero feel like a burrito.

At the end of it, it settled down next to them and laid it's head on Nero's stomach, absently purring before dissolving in blue motes.

"I never forgot that time it pet me." Nero felt the need to point out as he shifted to lay on his side so he's not staring up at Vergil all the time.

Vergil's pale skin barely held back a pink shade. "It was a momentary lapse of control."

Dante once told him that Vergil's doppelganger just follows whatever Vergil's greatest desire is when it's not being actively controlled. "Doesn't it do what you want to do?"

Vergil was caught red handed and she knew it. So, like a cornered animal, she retaliated. "Such an endearing nestling deserves affection, don't you think?"

Nero couldn't blush in devil form but damnit, he tried. He huffed and grumbled something about 'not a nestling' as some strange instinct made him cover his face behind his wings even if they were a translucent blue.

"You're not helping your case." Vergil said as she carded fingers through the feathers, lightly massaging the wing itself, releasing some tension Nero didn't even know existed and making him purr louder than red queen.

"They must be quite sore, no?" Vergil apparently read his mind.

"I didn't even know that was possible but yeah, I guess." They're made of energy, they're not supposed to be able to get sore.

"Stretch them."

Nero shifted slightly so his back was in Vergil's full view, as he opened his wings to as far as they would allow– which was really fucking far. He had to stretch them upwards so he wouldn't fuck up the walls.

Also... It felt so fucking good. He could feel tendons he never used pulling and releasing of their own accord and musculature letting go of resistance as if it was washed away by a warm stream. If his wings had bones they would surely be doing a world class impression of bubble wrap as he felt a small prickling sensation across his extra limbs. He had to bite back a moan, for savior's sake.

Nero hadn't seen it– but somehow could feel it– that Vergil was irrevocably fascinated with the wings. Like a literature nerd receiving the perfect book for their tastes– or a child that just received candy. "They're ethereal, yet physical." Vergil lightly felt around the lengths of his demonic appendages with the tips of her fingers, stopping only to minutiously study a fallen feather before it dissolved into blue sparks. "Beautiful and powerful."

The feathers fluffed up, even though Nero didn't command anything. It wasn't long before the ecstasy washed off and he went back to laying on his side, releasing one long and relieved sigh as Vergil once again buried a hand on his hair and set the other to check on his heartbeat.

 This much admiration- all this interest and attention from Vergil isn't something she ever put on show and before Nero knew it, he'd already opened his big dumb mouth. "Why… I thought you didn't care about me."

Vergil's expression changes to slight disappointment. Though sharpened eyes and sharper senses tell Nero it's directed at herself. "You'd have been right not long ago. More presently, I can't blame you for that assumption. I… had not the right... Nor any real strategy on how to proceed. I've pondered so much on what to tell you I never said much at all."

That explains… a lot. And Nero's already in too deep to back out. "Well… at least I know you do care. I can work with that." Nero sets that in stone. If Vergil wants to connect but doesn't know how then he's not gonna wait around and do nothing about it.

Vergil's tail manifests and wraps snuggly around his waist. Some tenuous strain Nero didn't even know existed on the back of his mind relaxed under the firm hold. "I was under the impression you only tolerated me." Her hands clenched, but still careful not to pinch him. "Considering how much time I've wasted or all that I have done, I assumed…" Vergil trailed off.

Nero's starting to see some good in this whole mess, weird as it is. "There's plenty of wasted time under both our belts. But we still have plenty left."

Vergil's lips press into a thin line. "We shall see."

Of fucking course. Nero groans. "You're gonna believe I'm gonna die until I'm in good enough shape to kick your ass again, right?"

"If you have little time left, I will make the most out of it." Vergil vowed.

Nero tried to find it within him to argue. He really tried, but simply sighed. "Pass me a tissue." And blew out a bunch of snot.

Dante barged in just about then. "Great news! I found some six vital starts and eight gold orbs. How's the kid?" He asked before plopping down on a few piled duvets.

Nero should probably be impressed by all those finds, but the one time he entered Dante's room has managed to appear in his nightmares. "I'll be fine."

"Sure, you will. Here's a star." Dante offers with a forced smile.

"I don't need it." Nero declined.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it. Maybe it'll help with your nose?"

Dante has a good point, doesn't mean Nero will admit it. He takes the star and crushes it in his hand, to no real effect.

"Feeling better?" Dante questions.

"Nope." He really did get the shit end of the deal with his blood ratio, didn't he?

The old man sighs, settling down by the side and fishing for one one of Nero's hands as the items vanish to somewhere within Dante's pocket dimension. "Guess we really have to wait it out, then." Dante gets himself comfortable on his spot, occasionally rubbing his thumb on Nero's scaled knuckles. 

Could Nero see beyond the long hair Dante decided to keep after the Qliphoth fiasco, he'd see something bleak behind his eyes.

"Hey, Verge?" Dante starts, hopefully not another instigation for a fight.

Vergil hummed. 

"You remember when father used to make a nest in a guest room for all of us to drop in?"

"Just like…"

"Yeah, just like now. Hell, we even dragged mom into it."

Vergil lets out a low chuckle, accompanied by a low purr. "I recall you trying to bury father in the bedding while mother would-" Vergil's hand abruptly stopped carding through his hair.

Dante's grin was all teeth.

"Be a good little brother and fetch me a brush."

By some miraculous circumstance, Dante wordlessly complied.

To say Nero is confused is an understatement. "Uh… what was that about?"

Vergil openly smiled. "Your grandmother would usually style our hair when father went on with our demonic antics. Your hair is quite like hers."

Nero liked that he resembled his grandmother in some way, but he had to ask: "Wasn't she blonde?"

"Yes. You have the hair color of Sparda's kin, but the thickness and smoothness…" Vergil runs a hand freely through the locks, careful not to tug on any possible knots. "That is entirely Eva's."

"Oh… how was she like?"

"Strict, but kind. Very kind and stubborn." Vergil sifts through some far memory like she sifts through his long bangs. "You seem to take after her quite a lot in personality. Especially your temper."

"She was a hot head?"

Vergil's smugness could overdose someone. "You admit yourself a hothead?"

Nero's very small rising anger just proved her point, and the anger turned on itself, before getting pissed off that it was being in the middle of a civil war with itself and self-destructing out of self hate.

"Maybe." Was the result of that micro-war.

Vergil demeanor turns wistful. "I recall one time Sparda had tried to make breakfast on his own… the burned toast was the only thing he did intentionally-"

A protective fury sparked within him faster than his mouth could stay closed. "Don't you dare shit on burned toast! Put some cheese on it and it's great."

What happened next Nero had not expected in a thousand years. Granted, today's events were never expected to begin with but… Vergil started fucking giggling. To the point Nero turned his head to stare up at his mother and see for himself that she was covering her mouth and indeed, giggling. "It seems you take after your grandfather as well. He adored obscene amounts of cheese on burned toast. Mother would spend the day cursing him for his wasteful nature while he desperately tried to ensure we hadn't learned any foul vocabulary."

Nero turned his head back to where he was staring to the side, before putting a thought together. "Huh… Kyrie always gets on me everytime I swear around the house." He does not have the heart to swear after being chastised by his lover. Else he always feels like some petulant child and stops not soon after.

Vergil hummed in satisfaction. "That woman may be only human, but I see devotion and bravery befitting of a mighty hero behind that housewife facade. You've chosen a good mate."

Before Nero could tell Vergil to just call Kyrie his 'girlfriend' instead of 'mate', Dante popped back in carrying a variety of brushes and combs. 

"Ey, Verge, go ham. " Dante said with a boisterous smirk as he sat in his spot. "Care to pretty me up next?"

"I'll shave you with Yamato, how about that?" Vergil used her tail to tug Nero to a sitting position while putting a small distance between them. Nero's devil did not like the separation, even if momentarily.

"Sounds nice and slicy"

Vergil started with a comb, smoothing his hair outward and gently undoing the many knots it acquired before getting stuck on a particularly stubborn tangle.

Dante could resist the urge to jabber for only so long. "Man… why does Nero get to have hair in his trigger and not us?"

"You say it like the mop on your head is anything but unsightly." Vergil responded.

"I'm agreeing with Vergil on this one. You look like a retired eighties rockstar, Dante." Nero added, much to his uncle's feigned hurt.

Dante tch'd. "You say that like I wouldn't kill it at being a rockstar."

Vergil scoffed. "To answer your question: He's three quarters human. His appearance reflects as much." Vergil explains as she starts working on his hair with a large, thick brush.

Dante laughs once. "You almost look like an angel, kiddo."

Nero is now thankful he can't blush, lest his uncle tease him on it as he wipes his nose. "Angels are bullshit."

"You are factually correct." Vergil cheekily cut in. "However, I'm tidying the hair of the closest approximation right now."

Nero is very thankful his skin is currently blue as he coughs and scratches his nose. Dante is cackling maniacally. Vergil was trying to contain a mirthful, low chuckle.

"Hahahah! You hear that, Lil' angel~?"

"Shut it, Dante!" Nero says, immediately regretting raising his voice as he covers his mouth to cough.

Dante laughs harder.

Nero relents. The only way to beat Dante in his bullshit is not to play. "At least be useful and get me some tissues."

"Here ya go!" Dante says as he hands the roll. "Now let me see your wings, angel~"

Nero considered backhanding Dante with a bringer just because, but opted to throw the gross tissue in Dante's direction.

Dante used his guard to deflect the paper into the trash bin. "Ew! The hell, kid! That's gross as shit!" 

"That's shiny clean compared to your room, uncle."

"My room's perfectly fine thankyouverymuch."

Vergil momentarily stopped the constant rasping of the brush against Nero's hair to take a stance in this conflict. "I have managed to clean most of the shop to a tolerable state. The sole exception being your room, Dante. I have not the bravery to enter that pigsty."

The legendary hunter huffed. "Thank fuck. You ruined the atmosphere of the whole shop with your clean freak ass."

Nero didn't have to see Vergil's face to see her glare. "You consider an endless amount of filth and cockroaches… atmosphere?"

"Yep!"

"There was a dead rat behind the fridge." Vergil said, deadpanned.

Nero just had an answer for a long time question. "So that's why your kitchen smelled like death. What the fuck was that about? Why never clean it?"

"It's a message so his buddies don't try anything funny." Dante attempted to justify.

Everyone felt Vergil's eye roll. "You're hopeless, little brother." Vergil goes back to tending to Nero's long bangs.

"Nah. You're just no fun." 

"I'm gonna agree with Vergil again. I could eat a book and crap out more sense than you. Clean this dump every once in a while, It stinks." Nero added.

Dante gasped. Long and over dramatic. "It's a dump alright, but it's my dump! You betraitor!"

"'Betraitor' isn't a word." Vergil corrected.

"It is now." Dante poked back.

"Shall I get you a dictionary?"

Nero butt in. "He's just gonna use it to sleep like his girly magazines." 

"Nero's right, y'know. All the words there are made up, anyway."

"Then I'll just get one heavy enough to crush your skull."

Nero idly wondered how heavy that would have to be, considering how hard to kill they all are.

The twins bantered back and forth. Nero only spared a few brain cells to keep track of it so they won't start fighting. Otherwise, he let himself get lost in the fuzzy feeling that's spread throughout his whole body, especially his chest, where it feels like a continuous thrum that very much lulls him to sleep. He closes his eyes but makes sure to remain awake enough not to fall over so Vergil can continue her work on his hair.

All that coupled with a slight fever making him drowsy set him up for failure.

He only realized he failed the 'stay awake' part when the tail around his waist tugged at him, while a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and head to not let him fall on his side.

"Nero?" Vergil questioned, calmed only by the fact Nero is purring pretty loudly.

He is coherent enough to give a good answer, such as 'i dozed off' but he opts for: "Jus' five more minutes, Mom."

As expected, Vergil froze solid and Dante started giggling. 

Vergil, through will alone, responded: "You are supposed to be resting after all." She then carefully guided Nero to lay down, carefully placed his head on a soft pillow and wrapped strong, scaled arms around him before dragging his back against her stomach. Vergil had triggered and wrapped wings around him up to the chin, making sure he stayed warm in a far too comfy cocoon.

He faintly registered Vergil's snout burying itself in between his shoulder and neck before distantly hearing Dante saying something about 'sappy' and 'cute'.

He was about to doze off for good, soothed by his mother's rumbling purr. 

Safe. Hidden. Something whispered in his mind.

Safe.

Abruptly, the vibrations switched to something much more aggressive. When he tried to open his eyes he found his whole self covered. All he could see was the blue patterns that lined the inner layer of her wings and he could feel the grip of the tail and arms around his waist bordering on painful.

"Mine." Vergil snarled. Demonic and violent and feral.

Dante choked on whatever he was gonna say to laugh for a second. "Vergil, I'm not gonna steal your kid."

"Then keep your distance."

"Oh, c'mon. I just wanna see if-"

"My. Nestling. Get your own." Vergil hissed. Voice dripping with a very real threat of violence.

"Geez. Okay, just let me know if something's off about him."

Vergil hmphed in triumph before slowly loosing her hold on him, letting the wings fall back to his chin and giving Nero a view of the room.

Dante was sitting at a supposedly safe distance on the opposite side of the nest. A long, dumb and genuine grin stretching his face. "Sup, kid."

Nero blinked. 

 Dante smirked. "For the record, you're not getting any cousins."

Nero rolled his eyes. "Idiots." And sniffled.

"Rest, my nestling." Vergil murmured, restarting the easy rumbles as she petted his head.

Nero was too spent to do much about it. He slightly curled on himself, Vergil curling around him in response, before his consciousness slipped away.

Safe. Mama is here.