[So. Funny thing about working for Devil May Cry. Nero may not technically be part of the office gig, but he'll visit from time to time. The van's a comfy place, but right now it smells like ass and he needs to get out of a cramped bed and Nico's being herself and maybe driving him up the wall a little. Not that he has much else to do at this point- there's still work to do eventually, because there's always going to be people calling at the dumbest of times. But, he figures, why not bother the old man because a. he's bored and b. he's got time to spare.
So off to the office he goes, and what does he find?
Dante.
Asleep.
With no lights on.
Don't mind him as he might just try to kick your legs off your damn desk, Dante. Also, if you've got a magazine around he's grabbing that too.]
Seriously? I leave for a week and you're still sleeping? I think you're starting to show your age, old man.
[ Today is one of those quiet days, those slow days, where there isn't much coming in and what little jobs are available already got snatched up by the girls. He would have joined had it not been for Lady's compelling argument about debt or something─which is to say he had been bullied into staying behind and manning the fort under pain of only eating salad for a week. Ugh, fate worse than death.
So naturally what done the Legendary Demon Hunter do on a slow day? Turn off all the lights, unhook the phone, and take a god damn nap. What? He works hard, he deserves some uninterrupted sleep once in a while.
Well, it would have been interrupted had he thought to lock the door and flick the sign around to "Closed."
Dante hears Nero enter with the sharp jingle of the front door bell, hears the disappointed huff and listens to him make his way all the way up to the desk. A swift kick to his legs Dante precarious balance is disrupted and he slump forward with a groan, scowling. ]
Can't a guy get some shut eye around here? [ That's his magazine, thank you, he's gonna try to get that back. ] Give that back, kid.
[Welcome to how your nephew treats family, Dante. Try not to grow any grey hairs.
Nero pulls the magazine further out of Dante's reach, having a look around the shop and taking his time in doing so. Even with the random pizza boxes it's still cleaner than the van (though really, he doesn't mind the mess it is, it feels more familiar like that), though Nico would argue the mess comes from him rather than her. He shoves an empty box onto the floor and settles on the couch; Devil Bringer lazily holding onto the kidnapped prize.]
Trish and Lady out? [He's surprised they didn't drag him, honestly, those two love to give him a hassle any chance they get. It's part of the reason why Nero doesn't visit often, because whatever they can't do with Dante, they definitely try to pester with him instead. Small mercies, honestly.]
[ Haha, real funny. It's not like he already has a head of white hair.
Dante chases the magazine as far as the edge of desk before slumping back into the chair, arms crossed and scowl upon his face. Thanks you little shit, he had been having a perfect dream until you came along. He leans back, feet kicking off an empty pizza box of the desk to rest his feet up once again. ]
Yeah, on a job. [ Something he is both annoyed and grateful for. Part of him would rather be on a job than manning the fort, but another part of him would rather not be nagged for the umpteenth time about the state of the shop. Their current hassle crusade. ] What about Nico?
[Congrats at looking like a bit of a child, though Nero keeps that to himself, snorting back something of a laugh. It takes a moment, but he tosses the magazine back at the desk, just so Dante has something to cover his eyes with.] What, they ground you for something?
[At the mention of Nico, though? He lets out an aggravated sigh.] Considering she's putting me on blast for nearly breaking a prototype, she's busy. [It's not his fault she left it out and a group of demons almost ransacked the van. Nero had to take care of them, obviously. Shit happens, she'll cool off eventually.]
[ That's a win for Dante. The scowl changes for a grin as he catches the magazine, tossing it onto a empty spot on the desk. Later he'll cover his face when his nephew isn't demanding attention and leaves him to sleep in peace. ]
Something like that. [ A dismissive wave. ] They made it real clear they didn't need any help with this one.
[ The subject change makes him grin, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at Nero. ] Ah, you got grounded too huh? [ Banned from the van, banned from a job, aren't they a pair. ] She'll cool down eventually, though it's probably a good idea to steer clear for a while.
Sounds like a day that ends in y. [Nero makes it easier for Dante to at least catch the snort as he speaks. Whether his comment is on Dante being bullied or the girls doing what they want, it's hard to say. It might just be both.] Gotta be rough.
[He huffs at that, though. God, Dante, he's not a kid!!!! It's not a grounding!!!] Yeah, well- I'd rather not get my ass run over the next time she sees me.
[No, it's absolutely a grounding and he knows it is, but he's also stubborn. Isn't that familiar?]
[ Dante snorts, shaking his head. Nico sounds just as bad as Lady, it isn't surprising they get along so well. ]
Not as rough as being kicked out of my own van.
[ Come one, it's totally being grounded. Worse even. ]
So, [ He leans back in the chair, floor boards creaking as he does so. ] Why did you come here for? No where else to go? Or did you really want to come visit little old me?
Pretty sure she can do worse. [ Don’t tempt fate, man, Nico could hound his ass even worse, and Nero definitely doesn’t want that.]
Don’t flatter yourself. [He scoffs and rolls his eyes just a little at that. Yeah, it’s bad, but he’ll live with it!! He’s not as bad as Dante in terms of debt or reputation.] I figured trouble had to be out somewhere- I’m just surprised it’s not here with you.
[ There are things in life he can ignore. Forgive, even, if that is the verbiage one prefers. He can ignore that Dante's chosen cohorts are far less quick to trust him than his brother; in fact, were they to immediately welcome him into their strange fold, he would be suspicious. He can ignore the brunette, familiar from the Temen-ni-gru, and her dark looks; he can ignore the demon that wears their mother's face and little else.
He can ignore that Nero doesn't seem to know quite how to interact with him; in all truthfulness, he has no idea how to interact with him, either. And he can ignore the general state that Dante's offices are perpetually left in, the papers and books and bottles strewn haphazardly across the floor.
Well. He can almost ignore that. It speaks to a strange, crawling feeling in the back of his mind, centering on his brother's health and uncomfortable to acknowledge — so he doesn't.
He can even, for the most part, ignore how the utilities in the building seem to operate entirely at the whim of their mercurial renter. Twice since their return from the underworld have the lights gone out. Twice.
But that's fine. He can ignore it. He can (and does) do his part to maintain some measure of upkeep, at least for the building.
What he can't ignore, however, is— ]
Dante!
[ The box is dropped rather unceremoniously in front of his brother, and Vergil crosses his arms over his chest. ]
Why is there another pizza molding in the fridge? Is it really so hard to finish one before ordering another?
[ And there is a lot Dante can't ignore despite his best efforts. First, the awkward attempts at conversation Vergil and Nero have every time the kid drops by the office. Second, the mood Lady has been in ever since they dragged their asses through the door. Third, that uncomfortable feeling in the back of his mind that urges Dante to randomly check on his brother; just to make sure he's still here, not some figment of his shitty imagination.
He doesn't talk about it, because why the hell would he? But it's there, gnawing away at his will until he breaks. It's stupid and makes him feel like a god damn teenager all over again. Wishing his shitty brother would drag his ass out of the underworld just so he can kick his ass for making him cry.
What he can ignore, however, is the tone of Vergil's voice whenever something causes him displeasure. Which, Dante's discovered, happens a lot. There hasn't been a moment where everything as up to Vergil's standards since their return from the underworld. At least not one that Dante can remember.
With a groan Dante pulls magazine from his face, hand raised to rub the sleep from his eyes mumbling: ] Here we go again.
[ Oh boy, he's been at the fridge again. ]
Of course it is, have you ever tried hopping over to the fridge at two in the morning?
[ Of course Dante would be lazing about. Of course. The urge to swipe the box off the desk and into his lap is sudden and overwhelming — but somehow, he manages to resist. Somehow. It is remarkably difficult, and some small part of him believes he should be rewarded for his restraint. Knowing that he won't be is, in fact, appalling. ]
Of course I haven't. [ He's being snippier than he needs to be, and he knows it — but this isn't the first moldy pizza he's found. He's allowed to be snippy. ] Two in the morning is typically when one is meant to be sleeping.
[ Does that mean he's asleep? Not in the slightest. The quiet and (relative) peace are foreign to him after so long in Hell, and he finds himself waking up at the slightest noise. This includes Dante's early morning pizza calls, but— ]
You can get up and fetch yourself a new pizza, but you're unable to walk to the fridge. Really. Perhaps we should put a fridge in your room to solve this issue.
[ Should they discuss why Dante is awake at 2AM to order pizza? Probably. Does Vergil have any idea of how to bring it up? Not in the slightest. Is it a conversation he wants to have? Not particularly, especially since he has a suspicion that the fault is partially (and understandable) his. ]
Branch out with your diet, brother. You may find your gastrointestinal system thanking you.
[ Vergil might have a right to be snippy, but Dante is just being snippy because he can. Because he's a god damn adult and he's being lectured like a child. ]
I'm not the only one using that fridge, you know? Lady and Trish store all sort of crap in there too. It's hardly my fault if a pizza box gets pushed into the back and forgotten.
[ It's more likely that he couldn't be bothered to check the fridge to see if there was any leftovers, choosing to instead order another one during one of his many late night episodes.
It was either pizza or strawberry sundaes, and the no one delivers sundaes at two in the morning. ]
My guts have been surviving just fine for the last thirty years, Vergil. I'll be fine.
[ Surviving, sure, that's what he has been doing. ]
As the one who keeps ordering the pizza, I believe its disposal falls to you.
[ Admittedly, it does cut down on the amount of dishes left in the kitchen: what use for a plate or utensils when a pizza can be eaten straight out of the box? Still, that doesn't change that he has found far too many pizzas in the fridge, all cold and congealed into one solid mass. ]
If I find another one, I will make you eat it.
[ It's a threat, of course, as well as a promise, and he stares Dante down for just a moment to make sure he understands this. Then, with all the dignity he can muster, Vergil scoops the box off of the desk, walking to the trash can at the side of the room. Just because Dante is a mess, it doesn't mean he has to fall into the same habits, and he unceremoniously dumps pizza and box into the bin before securing the lid. It should be done in the kitchen, where any smells will be contained, but.... Well.
He's making a point.
It should be the end of it. He should walk away and find something better to do with his time. Should. And yet he finds himself unable to. There have been far too many moldy fridge pizzas, too many times he's woken up in the middle of the night to hear Dante ordering yet another. Too many bottles stashed in the bins behind the building, and still more that he's stumbled onto, sometimes literally. The bags beneath Dante's eyes are heavy and dark, and the mess around the office calls louder every time he sees it.
He should address this. He needs to address this.
So Vergil pauses as he turns, gaze averted away from Dante. He narrows his eyes as he catches sight of a dark, empty bottle just barely peeking out from behind the couch. ]
Why haven't you been sleeping, Dante?
[ He's fairly certain he knows the answer — but he wants to hear Dante say it out loud. ]
[ It isn't that Dante doubts him, Vergil isn't the sort to make empty threats or promises, he just... is being petulant for the sake of it. Resisting because he's being lectured like a ten year old, because it's his own brother lecturing him on keeping the fridge clean and maybe eating something other than pizza. Because he doesn't really know what else to do.
Because underneath the high and mighty attitude Vergil always puts forth it almost seems like he's concerned for Dante's well being.
Dante watches the display, feigning disinterest, expecting Vergil to disappear back into the kitchen or something. Except he isn't. Except he just stands there. That sense of dread washes over Dante again, pulling feet from the desk to land flat again. Dammit, where are the girls when he needs them? Or, hell, Nero would be more than welcome than whatever is about to transpire.
Why haven't you been sleeping, Dante?
There it is again, that concern Dante doesn't know what the hell to do with. He stands with a laugh, walking over to the couch to unceremoniously fall down on it. ]
Why do you care? Been interrupting your beauty sleep or something?
[ At least this seems to be as excruciating for Dante as it is for him. Vergil watches as Dante crosses through his vision and past the bottle that is somehow incredibly interesting to stare at, only to fall across the couch. He remembers the Dante of before, when they had fought atop the Temen-ni-gru. When Dante had reached out, to stop him from falling into the demon world. Barely, almost as if through static, he remembers fighting Dante on Mallet Island and seeing his half of the amulet.
The Dante in front of him seems... diminished. Deflated, almost. Vergil has no idea how to address it, but now that he's put the question out there, he can't very well take it back.
There are no words for how little he wants to have this conversation. He will not run from it, though. ]
No. I find myself unable to sleep, as well.
[ Said as imperiously as possible, his chin raised in defiance and challenging Dante to make a comment about it. Only for a moment, before he crosses back toward Dante's desk, leaning back against it and crossing his arms over his chest. Suddenly, the (still) broken jukebox in the corner of the room is the most fascinating thing in the world, even as his fingers find a loose thread on one of his sleeves and start to worry at it.
Perhaps the best way to get Dante to stop deflecting is to speak honestly. It might actually be the first time in their lives, if he thinks about it.
What he wouldn't give for a demon to come crashing through the wall to interrupt right now. They can ill afford it, but — please. ]
Rest has been.. a difficult thing to come by. It comes as no comfort to find that I am not the only one experiencing this issue.
[ Talk about it as clinically and detached as possible. Maybe that will make it easier. It won't. ]
[ Why can't he just drop it? Why does Vergil have to prod at the things that not even the girls are willing to poke at? It'd be easier if he did instead of dragging them both down a path neither of them really want to go down. But they're here and it doesn't look like there is any out of it. No demon crashing through the window, no Lady coming to collect on an ever increasing debt.
Nothing.
Dante exhales, dragging a gloved hand down his face. ]
You really wanna know?
[ There's no way to avoid the conversation, no getting out of it as much as Dante desperately wants to. Fine, he'll talk about it then. He'll give Vergil every little detail if that's what he wants. Pushing himself up he looks over at Vergil, leaning against his desk focused on the still broken jukebox. Ha, if he thinks he can get through this by being as detached as possible he has another damn thing coming. ]
Well, you see some years ago I had to kill my own brother. With my own two hands. It was pretty rough, you know? Years of being trapped in the underworld and I find him again, brainwashed into being the flunky of the asshole who killed our mother and I had to kill him. [ It's still there, in his desk, the two halves of the amulet that their mother gave them before she died. ] Man, I spent so damn long grieving my asshole brother. Thinking I should have done more to get him back. Then I find out that shit, looks like he had a kid at some point and for some crazy reason left him with a cult that worshiped Dad as a god.
[ He leans back into the couch, resting a foot on top of a propped up knee. Yeah, Dante can't detach himself from this. Emotion wells up in his voice, his expression, that uncomfortable mix of anger and relief and hurt. ]
And then after all that shit in Fortuna, after entrusting his kid with his most precious possession, the asshole comes back. Doesn't just come back, he cuts off his own son's arm and goes straight back onto his bullshit again. Almost destroys an entire city again for power, as if he didn't learn from the last time he tried to pull that shit.
But hey, that really isn't the point is it? Nah, point is that after all that bullshit somehow I got my shitty brother back. Alive, whole, not some twisted brainwashed form of himself. He's back.
[ Then Dante deflates, sinking further into the couch. ]
He's back and part of me doesn't know what the hell I'm supposed to do with this. Part of me is terrified that it's all in my head. That now that I've got the only family I've got back, he's gonna disappear, pull some of the same shit he has pulled before, and I'm gonna have to kill him. Again.
[ Vergil is silent the entire time Dante speaks. What can he say? He did indeed ask for this, knowing full well that he is likely the cause of Dante's troubles. Somehow, he'd suspected that confirming this truth would make him feel better; it comes as no surprise, then, that it doesn't help at all.
The trip down memory lane isn't entirely welcome, but he supposes it's the least of his worries. Briefly, he remembers his time as Mundus' slave, only vaguely remembers the woman in Fortuna. Far more clear are his memories when he and Dante had fought together to defeat Arkham, and when he'd discovered a boy with a demonic arm and needed to take it back. Would Dante understand that, without taking Nero's arm, without doing what he'd done, Vergil would not be standing here in front of him? He isn't sure. Still — how does he explain what he's done? Can he? Probably not in a way that matters.
So he won't. Not unless Dante asks. There is no justification, no explanation that will serve. Urizen's decisions were not my own. It's as flimsy an excuse as it sounds; Urizen is as much a part of him as V had been; by proxy, whatever choices had been made were his.
I'm gonna have to kill him. Again. ]
No. You won't.
[ He still refuses to look at Dante as he responds. There's a deep breath, his fingers digging into his arm almost to the point of pain. He asked for this. He will accept the consequences. ]
I will not make excuses for myself, Dante. I'm aware of the consequences of my actions. [ He pushes away from the desk, hands curling into fists before he rests one on the hilt of the Yamato. ] I'm also not so foolish as to repeat the same mistakes. If that's what you want, I'll take my leave. As you said, you've done just fine in my absence.
[ Just say the word, Dante. He will tear open a portal here and now. ]
[ Maybe, maybe not. Dante can't admit to understanding what ran through his brother's head, in part because he never asked and in part because he always just assumed. Power for power's sake, right? To settle a rivalry that they've always had since they were kids. To lord over Dante like he used to.
Maybe he should have asked, actually sat down and listened to his brothers reasons for what he did. But it wouldn't have changed much in the end. Dante still would have tried to stop him at Temen-ni-gru, still would have been prepared to kill Urizen and stop V from returning. But maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to understand a bit better. Maybe. ]
Won't I?
[ He wants to believe him, desperately, he'd be more than happy to cling to those words never think about any of this shit ever again. But there is a tiny seed of doubt in the back of his head, scratching away at the corners of his mind. Keeping him awake, keeping him on edge, urging him to check just this once (it's never just this once) that Vergil is still there.
Dante lifts his chin, focusing his gaze properly on Vergil instead of the space just next to him, fingers absently curling into fists. ]
I wouldn't have accepted any excuses anyway. [ Not for Temen-ni-gru, not for all the shit with Urizen. Mundus, that is a different story. ] And no, I don't want you to leave. You think after all these years I actually want you to disappear out of my life again? Shit Vergil, I wouldn't have gone down there with you if I wanted you gone.
[ He stands, suddenly, crossing the space with a few quick strides until he's standing beside Vergil. ]
I probably would have been doing better if you were around, idiot.
[ It's all the confirmation Dante is going to get. There's tight-lipped, and there's Vergil; there is no good way for him to explain that he remembers, now, why he sought power in the first place. That being V, even for that small amount of time, reminded him of what he'd lost. Why he'd endeavored for so long to become strong.
A small voice in the back of his mind reminds him, then, that he still needs to find a way to properly thank Nero for it.
Still, he won't deny that a part of him is surprised that Dante does not wish him gone. They've been at odds for so long, for more of their lives than they'd ever spent together — how easy it would be to fall back into old habits, maintain that distance. Finally, he turns to look at his brother, watching as he comes to stand beside him with an eyebrow raised. ]
And here I'd thought you'd joined me to "keep an eye" on me. [ His grip loosens on the Yamato's hilt, and this time when his arms cross over his chest, it's a far more relaxed stance. ] I'll admit, it was.. an interesting change, to have someone fighting at my side.
[ Nostalgic, even, though he won't say that. He's also never going to admit that the differences between then and his first trip to Hell had been nearly overwhelming; from time to time, he finds himself wondering what would have happened if he'd been able to swallow his pride and accept Dante's help.
It's too late to dwell on such things, but — he's here now. So instead he'll just take a deep breath, let himself relax just a hair. ]
Well. We're here now. [ And because they can't have nice things: ] As long as you remember to get rid of old pizzas, I see no reason why that should change.
[ There is a part of him that has always been curious and a part of him that doesn't want to know, fearing the truth might be exactly what he always thought it to be ─ or it'd be so very alien that he'd struggle to accept it. It's probably better off remaining a mystery, at least for the time being.
A grin starts to form on Dante's lips, tension draining from his shoulders as a hand rests on his hip. ]
I told the kid I would. [ He didn't want Nero to lose his old man like they lost theirs. ] Yeah, we work pretty damn well together.
[ The memory makes him think of Temen-ni-gru, of the day Vergil fell; since their return Dante sometimes wonders how things would have changed if he had jumped in after him that day. He wouldn't have met Trish, there probably wouldn't have been a reason for Mundus to create her, and that thought leaves something uncomfortable sitting in the middle of his chest.
It doesn't matter now, what's done is done. ]
Fine, fine. [ Dante shakes his head, shoulders slumping in an overdramatic shrug. ] I'll try not to leave molding pizza in the fridge anymore. But you have to promise to try talking to your damn son sometime, you know how awkward it gets when he comes around?
[ Strange, how seeing the grin quirking Dante's mouth inspires a tiny mirror on his own. Far more casual this time as he looks away, and for a moment, Vergil wonders if this might be what they'd been missing all these years. ]
I suppose we do. Though you're kidding yourself if you still think you're up one.
[ Because what is a family without a little bit of brotherly rivalry? Surely it won't spiral into anythin— wait. Vergil chuckles to himself, a quiet sound. It's...a strange feeling, to have this. His brother at his side, neither of them at the other's throat. To feel welcome, even.
At least, until Dante mentions Nero. A frown crosses Vergil's face, his eyes narrowing as he looks at him. ]
Nero? [ And isn't that just odd, thinking of Nero as his son. ] What would we have to talk about?
[ Of course he notices how awkward it gets. He's one of the uncomfortable parties. How is the supposed to approach the boy, though, when they had already met through V? He has no idea the protocol, what should happen — is he supposed to reintroduce himself? ]
He knows where I am; if he wishes to speak to me, he need only speak up.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
So off to the office he goes, and what does he find?
Dante.
Asleep.
With no lights on.
Don't mind him as he might just try to kick your legs off your damn desk, Dante. Also, if you've got a magazine around he's grabbing that too.]
Seriously? I leave for a week and you're still sleeping? I think you're starting to show your age, old man.
[:VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV]
no subject
So naturally what done the Legendary Demon Hunter do on a slow day? Turn off all the lights, unhook the phone, and take a god damn nap. What? He works hard, he deserves some uninterrupted sleep once in a while.
Well, it would have been interrupted had he thought to lock the door and flick the sign around to "Closed."
Dante hears Nero enter with the sharp jingle of the front door bell, hears the disappointed huff and listens to him make his way all the way up to the desk. A swift kick to his legs Dante precarious balance is disrupted and he slump forward with a groan, scowling. ]
Can't a guy get some shut eye around here? [ That's his magazine, thank you, he's gonna try to get that back. ] Give that back, kid.
no subject
Nero pulls the magazine further out of Dante's reach, having a look around the shop and taking his time in doing so. Even with the random pizza boxes it's still cleaner than the van (though really, he doesn't mind the mess it is, it feels more familiar like that), though Nico would argue the mess comes from him rather than her. He shoves an empty box onto the floor and settles on the couch; Devil Bringer lazily holding onto the kidnapped prize.]
Trish and Lady out? [He's surprised they didn't drag him, honestly, those two love to give him a hassle any chance they get. It's part of the reason why Nero doesn't visit often, because whatever they can't do with Dante, they definitely try to pester with him instead. Small mercies, honestly.]
no subject
Dante chases the magazine as far as the edge of desk before slumping back into the chair, arms crossed and scowl upon his face. Thanks you little shit, he had been having a perfect dream until you came along. He leans back, feet kicking off an empty pizza box of the desk to rest his feet up once again. ]
Yeah, on a job. [ Something he is both annoyed and grateful for. Part of him would rather be on a job than manning the fort, but another part of him would rather not be nagged for the umpteenth time about the state of the shop. Their current hassle crusade. ] What about Nico?
no subject
[At the mention of Nico, though? He lets out an aggravated sigh.] Considering she's putting me on blast for nearly breaking a prototype, she's busy. [It's not his fault she left it out and a group of demons almost ransacked the van. Nero had to take care of them, obviously. Shit happens, she'll cool off eventually.]
no subject
Something like that. [ A dismissive wave. ] They made it real clear they didn't need any help with this one.
[ The subject change makes him grin, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at Nero. ] Ah, you got grounded too huh? [ Banned from the van, banned from a job, aren't they a pair. ] She'll cool down eventually, though it's probably a good idea to steer clear for a while.
no subject
[He huffs at that, though. God, Dante, he's not a kid!!!! It's not a grounding!!!] Yeah, well- I'd rather not get my ass run over the next time she sees me.
[No, it's absolutely a grounding and he knows it is, but he's also stubborn. Isn't that familiar?]
no subject
Not as rough as being kicked out of my own van.
[ Come one, it's totally being grounded. Worse even. ]
So, [ He leans back in the chair, floor boards creaking as he does so. ] Why did you come here for? No where else to go? Or did you really want to come visit little old me?
no subject
Don’t flatter yourself. [He scoffs and rolls his eyes just a little at that. Yeah, it’s bad, but he’ll live with it!! He’s not as bad as Dante in terms of debt or reputation.] I figured trouble had to be out somewhere- I’m just surprised it’s not here with you.
[He’s b o r e d. Save him.]
no subject
He can ignore that Nero doesn't seem to know quite how to interact with him; in all truthfulness, he has no idea how to interact with him, either. And he can ignore the general state that Dante's offices are perpetually left in, the papers and books and bottles strewn haphazardly across the floor.
Well. He can almost ignore that. It speaks to a strange, crawling feeling in the back of his mind, centering on his brother's health and uncomfortable to acknowledge — so he doesn't.
He can even, for the most part, ignore how the utilities in the building seem to operate entirely at the whim of their mercurial renter. Twice since their return from the underworld have the lights gone out. Twice.
But that's fine. He can ignore it. He can (and does) do his part to maintain some measure of upkeep, at least for the building.
What he can't ignore, however, is— ]
Dante!
[ The box is dropped rather unceremoniously in front of his brother, and Vergil crosses his arms over his chest. ]
Why is there another pizza molding in the fridge? Is it really so hard to finish one before ordering another?
no subject
He doesn't talk about it, because why the hell would he? But it's there, gnawing away at his will until he breaks. It's stupid and makes him feel like a god damn teenager all over again. Wishing his shitty brother would drag his ass out of the underworld just so he can kick his ass for making him cry.
What he can ignore, however, is the tone of Vergil's voice whenever something causes him displeasure. Which, Dante's discovered, happens a lot. There hasn't been a moment where everything as up to Vergil's standards since their return from the underworld. At least not one that Dante can remember.
With a groan Dante pulls magazine from his face, hand raised to rub the sleep from his eyes mumbling: ] Here we go again.
[ Oh boy, he's been at the fridge again. ]
Of course it is, have you ever tried hopping over to the fridge at two in the morning?
blame it on farts, y'know, like an adult
Of course I haven't. [ He's being snippier than he needs to be, and he knows it — but this isn't the first moldy pizza he's found. He's allowed to be snippy. ] Two in the morning is typically when one is meant to be sleeping.
[ Does that mean he's asleep? Not in the slightest. The quiet and (relative) peace are foreign to him after so long in Hell, and he finds himself waking up at the slightest noise. This includes Dante's early morning pizza calls, but— ]
You can get up and fetch yourself a new pizza, but you're unable to walk to the fridge. Really. Perhaps we should put a fridge in your room to solve this issue.
[ Should they discuss why Dante is awake at 2AM to order pizza? Probably. Does Vergil have any idea of how to bring it up? Not in the slightest. Is it a conversation he wants to have? Not particularly, especially since he has a suspicion that the fault is partially (and understandable) his. ]
Branch out with your diet, brother. You may find your gastrointestinal system thanking you.
shocked and, frankly, appalled
[ Vergil might have a right to be snippy, but Dante is just being snippy because he can. Because he's a god damn adult and he's being lectured like a child. ]
I'm not the only one using that fridge, you know? Lady and Trish store all sort of crap in there too. It's hardly my fault if a pizza box gets pushed into the back and forgotten.
[ It's more likely that he couldn't be bothered to check the fridge to see if there was any leftovers, choosing to instead order another one during one of his many late night episodes.
It was either pizza or strawberry sundaes, and the no one delivers sundaes at two in the morning. ]
My guts have been surviving just fine for the last thirty years, Vergil. I'll be fine.
[ Surviving, sure, that's what he has been doing. ]
uh huh, very convincing
[ Admittedly, it does cut down on the amount of dishes left in the kitchen: what use for a plate or utensils when a pizza can be eaten straight out of the box? Still, that doesn't change that he has found far too many pizzas in the fridge, all cold and congealed into one solid mass. ]
If I find another one, I will make you eat it.
[ It's a threat, of course, as well as a promise, and he stares Dante down for just a moment to make sure he understands this. Then, with all the dignity he can muster, Vergil scoops the box off of the desk, walking to the trash can at the side of the room. Just because Dante is a mess, it doesn't mean he has to fall into the same habits, and he unceremoniously dumps pizza and box into the bin before securing the lid. It should be done in the kitchen, where any smells will be contained, but.... Well.
He's making a point.
It should be the end of it. He should walk away and find something better to do with his time. Should. And yet he finds himself unable to. There have been far too many moldy fridge pizzas, too many times he's woken up in the middle of the night to hear Dante ordering yet another. Too many bottles stashed in the bins behind the building, and still more that he's stumbled onto, sometimes literally. The bags beneath Dante's eyes are heavy and dark, and the mess around the office calls louder every time he sees it.
He should address this. He needs to address this.
So Vergil pauses as he turns, gaze averted away from Dante. He narrows his eyes as he catches sight of a dark, empty bottle just barely peeking out from behind the couch. ]
Why haven't you been sleeping, Dante?
[ He's fairly certain he knows the answer — but he wants to hear Dante say it out loud. ]
he is, thank you for noticing
[ It isn't that Dante doubts him, Vergil isn't the sort to make empty threats or promises, he just... is being petulant for the sake of it. Resisting because he's being lectured like a ten year old, because it's his own brother lecturing him on keeping the fridge clean and maybe eating something other than pizza. Because he doesn't really know what else to do.
Because underneath the high and mighty attitude Vergil always puts forth it almost seems like he's concerned for Dante's well being.
Dante watches the display, feigning disinterest, expecting Vergil to disappear back into the kitchen or something. Except he isn't. Except he just stands there. That sense of dread washes over Dante again, pulling feet from the desk to land flat again. Dammit, where are the girls when he needs them? Or, hell, Nero would be more than welcome than whatever is about to transpire.
Why haven't you been sleeping, Dante?
There it is again, that concern Dante doesn't know what the hell to do with. He stands with a laugh, walking over to the couch to unceremoniously fall down on it. ]
Why do you care? Been interrupting your beauty sleep or something?
vergil, internally: [screaming cowboy meme]
The Dante in front of him seems... diminished. Deflated, almost. Vergil has no idea how to address it, but now that he's put the question out there, he can't very well take it back.
There are no words for how little he wants to have this conversation. He will not run from it, though. ]
No. I find myself unable to sleep, as well.
[ Said as imperiously as possible, his chin raised in defiance and challenging Dante to make a comment about it. Only for a moment, before he crosses back toward Dante's desk, leaning back against it and crossing his arms over his chest. Suddenly, the (still) broken jukebox in the corner of the room is the most fascinating thing in the world, even as his fingers find a loose thread on one of his sleeves and start to worry at it.
Perhaps the best way to get Dante to stop deflecting is to speak honestly. It might actually be the first time in their lives, if he thinks about it.
What he wouldn't give for a demon to come crashing through the wall to interrupt right now. They can ill afford it, but — please. ]
Rest has been.. a difficult thing to come by. It comes as no comfort to find that I am not the only one experiencing this issue.
[ Talk about it as clinically and detached as possible. Maybe that will make it easier.
It won't.]dante, internally: ABORT ABORT ABORT [sirens!!!]
Nothing.
Dante exhales, dragging a gloved hand down his face. ]
You really wanna know?
[ There's no way to avoid the conversation, no getting out of it as much as Dante desperately wants to. Fine, he'll talk about it then. He'll give Vergil every little detail if that's what he wants. Pushing himself up he looks over at Vergil, leaning against his desk focused on the still broken jukebox. Ha, if he thinks he can get through this by being as detached as possible he has another damn thing coming. ]
Well, you see some years ago I had to kill my own brother. With my own two hands. It was pretty rough, you know? Years of being trapped in the underworld and I find him again, brainwashed into being the flunky of the asshole who killed our mother and I had to kill him. [ It's still there, in his desk, the two halves of the amulet that their mother gave them before she died. ] Man, I spent so damn long grieving my asshole brother. Thinking I should have done more to get him back. Then I find out that shit, looks like he had a kid at some point and for some crazy reason left him with a cult that worshiped Dad as a god.
[ He leans back into the couch, resting a foot on top of a propped up knee. Yeah, Dante can't detach himself from this. Emotion wells up in his voice, his expression, that uncomfortable mix of anger and relief and hurt. ]
And then after all that shit in Fortuna, after entrusting his kid with his most precious possession, the asshole comes back. Doesn't just come back, he cuts off his own son's arm and goes straight back onto his bullshit again. Almost destroys an entire city again for power, as if he didn't learn from the last time he tried to pull that shit.
But hey, that really isn't the point is it? Nah, point is that after all that bullshit somehow I got my shitty brother back. Alive, whole, not some twisted brainwashed form of himself. He's back.
[ Then Dante deflates, sinking further into the couch. ]
He's back and part of me doesn't know what the hell I'm supposed to do with this. Part of me is terrified that it's all in my head. That now that I've got the only family I've got back, he's gonna disappear, pull some of the same shit he has pulled before, and I'm gonna have to kill him. Again.
[ You asked, Vergil. ]
vergil: zips through the wall and Away
The trip down memory lane isn't entirely welcome, but he supposes it's the least of his worries. Briefly, he remembers his time as Mundus' slave, only vaguely remembers the woman in Fortuna. Far more clear are his memories when he and Dante had fought together to defeat Arkham, and when he'd discovered a boy with a demonic arm and needed to take it back. Would Dante understand that, without taking Nero's arm, without doing what he'd done, Vergil would not be standing here in front of him? He isn't sure. Still — how does he explain what he's done? Can he? Probably not in a way that matters.
So he won't. Not unless Dante asks. There is no justification, no explanation that will serve. Urizen's decisions were not my own. It's as flimsy an excuse as it sounds; Urizen is as much a part of him as V had been; by proxy, whatever choices had been made were his.
I'm gonna have to kill him. Again. ]
No. You won't.
[ He still refuses to look at Dante as he responds. There's a deep breath, his fingers digging into his arm almost to the point of pain. He asked for this. He will accept the consequences. ]
I will not make excuses for myself, Dante. I'm aware of the consequences of my actions. [ He pushes away from the desk, hands curling into fists before he rests one on the hilt of the Yamato. ] I'm also not so foolish as to repeat the same mistakes. If that's what you want, I'll take my leave. As you said, you've done just fine in my absence.
[ Just say the word, Dante. He will tear open a portal here and now. ]
dante: oh no you don't
Maybe he should have asked, actually sat down and listened to his brothers reasons for what he did. But it wouldn't have changed much in the end. Dante still would have tried to stop him at Temen-ni-gru, still would have been prepared to kill Urizen and stop V from returning. But maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to understand a bit better. Maybe. ]
Won't I?
[ He wants to believe him, desperately, he'd be more than happy to cling to those words never think about any of this shit ever again. But there is a tiny seed of doubt in the back of his head, scratching away at the corners of his mind. Keeping him awake, keeping him on edge, urging him to check just this once (it's never just this once) that Vergil is still there.
Dante lifts his chin, focusing his gaze properly on Vergil instead of the space just next to him, fingers absently curling into fists. ]
I wouldn't have accepted any excuses anyway. [ Not for Temen-ni-gru, not for all the shit with Urizen. Mundus, that is a different story. ] And no, I don't want you to leave. You think after all these years I actually want you to disappear out of my life again? Shit Vergil, I wouldn't have gone down there with you if I wanted you gone.
[ He stands, suddenly, crossing the space with a few quick strides until he's standing beside Vergil. ]
I probably would have been doing better if you were around, idiot.
vergil: YOU CAN'T STOP ME
[ It's all the confirmation Dante is going to get. There's tight-lipped, and there's Vergil; there is no good way for him to explain that he remembers, now, why he sought power in the first place. That being V, even for that small amount of time, reminded him of what he'd lost. Why he'd endeavored for so long to become strong.
A small voice in the back of his mind reminds him, then, that he still needs to find a way to properly thank Nero for it.
Still, he won't deny that a part of him is surprised that Dante does not wish him gone. They've been at odds for so long, for more of their lives than they'd ever spent together — how easy it would be to fall back into old habits, maintain that distance. Finally, he turns to look at his brother, watching as he comes to stand beside him with an eyebrow raised. ]
And here I'd thought you'd joined me to "keep an eye" on me. [ His grip loosens on the Yamato's hilt, and this time when his arms cross over his chest, it's a far more relaxed stance. ] I'll admit, it was.. an interesting change, to have someone fighting at my side.
[ Nostalgic, even, though he won't say that. He's also never going to admit that the differences between then and his first trip to Hell had been nearly overwhelming; from time to time, he finds himself wondering what would have happened if he'd been able to swallow his pride and accept Dante's help.
It's too late to dwell on such things, but — he's here now. So instead he'll just take a deep breath, let himself relax just a hair. ]
Well. We're here now. [ And because they can't have nice things: ] As long as you remember to get rid of old pizzas, I see no reason why that should change.
dante: I CAN AND I WILL
A grin starts to form on Dante's lips, tension draining from his shoulders as a hand rests on his hip. ]
I told the kid I would. [ He didn't want Nero to lose his old man like they lost theirs. ] Yeah, we work pretty damn well together.
[ The memory makes him think of Temen-ni-gru, of the day Vergil fell; since their return Dante sometimes wonders how things would have changed if he had jumped in after him that day. He wouldn't have met Trish, there probably wouldn't have been a reason for Mundus to create her, and that thought leaves something uncomfortable sitting in the middle of his chest.
It doesn't matter now, what's done is done. ]
Fine, fine. [ Dante shakes his head, shoulders slumping in an overdramatic shrug. ] I'll try not to leave molding pizza in the fridge anymore. But you have to promise to try talking to your damn son sometime, you know how awkward it gets when he comes around?
vergil: >:T
I suppose we do. Though you're kidding yourself if you still think you're up one.
[ Because what is a family without a little bit of brotherly rivalry? Surely it won't spiral into anythin— wait. Vergil chuckles to himself, a quiet sound. It's...a strange feeling, to have this. His brother at his side, neither of them at the other's throat. To feel welcome, even.
At least, until Dante mentions Nero. A frown crosses Vergil's face, his eyes narrowing as he looks at him. ]
Nero? [ And isn't that just odd, thinking of Nero as his son. ] What would we have to talk about?
[ Of course he notices how awkward it gets. He's one of the uncomfortable parties. How is the supposed to approach the boy, though, when they had already met through V? He has no idea the protocol, what should happen — is he supposed to reintroduce himself? ]
He knows where I am; if he wishes to speak to me, he need only speak up.