Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Devil May Cry. If I did, why would I be writing a fanfic about it?

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Decisions

There was very little that put fear into him. He considered it a weakness, just like the rest of those pesky human emotions. Trembling or running in the face of something terrifying. His devil side reveled in the alluring scent of fear that he put into others. Demons and humans alike were suppose to be scared of him.

And yet here he was, running from the hoard of demons that currently chased him, utterly terrified at the prospect of them catching up. Oh, it wasn't like he couldn't kill them, in fact they would have been dead before they realized that he had pulled his blade from its saya. But too much was at stake, and he wasn't risking stopping long enough to kill the hoard. He wasn't attempting that again.

He ducked, letting the Blade sail over his head. The demon received summon swords to the gut for its troubles.

As much as he hated it, he needed to hide until the hoard passed. And Lady Luck seemed to have suddenly start favoring him, the rain finally pouring down more. That would cover his scent. He adjusted the tan cloak he was wearing for better protection against the rain, increasing his speed. Even though it would cover his scent, the rain still wasn't all that good if he stayed outside in it for too long.

There was suppose to be a cave somewhere around here, one that had a rather large boulder about 20 feet in it. The wards he placed there so long ago should still be there, and it wouldn't be all that hard to quickly replace them should they have faded away.

A smile betrayed his usual emotionless face as he spotted the cave, tricking to the side as another Blade attempted to tackle him to the ground, receiving summoned swords just like the last one.

Normally he would only teleport when he had the line of sight, as it was extremely risky otherwise. But he knew that cave inside out, and directly teleported to right behind that boulder, out of view of the entrance. The wards were fortunately still in place, but he would have to strengthen them the moment he had a chance to. For the moment, they were enough to hide his aura and presence from the demons outside.

Kneeling, he willed his heart to be fainter, listening as the pack of Blades passed by the cave without second thought. Demons they were, but they were occasionally extremely dumb. Good for him though.

Minutes passed as the sound of the demons faded away, and he released a breath he didn't realize he had. He finally sat down, leaning against the boulder. They were gone, for now anyway. He hated this, he hated running away like a coward, terrified out of his mind at a bunch of demons that were easy to kill.

Movement from that precious bundle he held on his chest reminded him of the reason he was even in this situation to begin with. Did he feel some contempt towards the bundle? Maybe. Would he get over it? Faster than his brother could order a pizza without olives.

He loosened his cloak, looking down at the small infant with silver hair. He moved the black blanket the child was wrapped in slightly, checking his right arm. He released another breath seeing that the injury the child had sustained on his hand had healed over, before his eyes widen at what he could now see.

The child's forearm had the start of scaled armor, and he could see the faint blue glow on his hand. He rewrapped the child and looked at the ceiling. Anger filled his head, anger at the demons, anger at himself. If only he was stronger, this wouldn't have happened. His child wouldn't have been injured as he was, he wouldn't be running...she would still be alive.

Tears threaten to roll down his face. Another stupid, weak, human emotion.

More movement from the child caused him to look down at the infant, bright blue eyes staring back at him. The infant cooed, wiggling his arms out of the blanket and reaching towards his father. His free hand lightly stroked the infant's face, receiving a delighted coo from the child. The child smiled, grabbing his father's finger before he could pull it away.

He couldn't help but smirk as the child squeezed his finger, stronger than a baby his age should be able to do, but his father could handle the extra strength. The child did get his demonic blood from him after all. The child cooed more, deciding that trying to eat his father's finger despite the lack of teeth was currently a good idea.

He eventually ended up smiling at the child. His son was alive, but at what cost? His home was destroyed, the mother of his child lying in a pool of her own blood underneath the rubble. He looked at the ceiling, frowning. Who else did he have to lose before life stops screwing him over? His son? His brother? Both? They were the only people left alive that he cared about. Sure, he hasn't actually seen his brother since the attack that killed their mother, but they were identical twins, they would know if the other had died. But he still needed more power, he needed his father's power.

And he was going to make Mundus pay for this.

But...he couldn't bring his child with him. It was far too dangerous to do so. The infant in question yawned, letting go of his father's finger and snuggling against his chest. He looked down at the child, moving what little hair the child had out of his face. The tears that been wanting to appear were finally let loose. Those stupid human tears flowed from his eyes as he held his child close.

He knew what he needed to do, and he hated that he had to make the decision to go through with it.

···

He listened as the door to the orphanage opened, hearing the mutterings of the human women over the blank bundle that held his child. He was out of sight of the door, only still around to make sure that his child was taken in. Fortuna was a place that worshiped his father as a god, his child would be safe here for the time being.

A single tear rolled down his face as the door closed again, the child now safely inside. He thought he was over these weak human emotions already. He didn't need them for what he was going to. They would only get in the way. He looked at the door as the tear was wiped away. He would be back for his child, after he got his father's power and did away with Mundus.

"Goodbye, Nero..."

···

Things never seem to go as he planned. Here he was at the border between the human realm and the demon realm from the portal on Temen-ni-gru, fighting his own brother.

Dante would never understand why Vergil was lusting for power. And Vergil couldn't understand why Dante couldn't see he was seeking this power to protect him? To protect Nero?!

And they were suppose to be twins.

That final strike between the Sons of Sparda had Dante come out of it clean. Vergil on the other hand received the strike straight to his gut. His half of the perfect amulet and Force Edge fell into the water. He quickly picked the amulet up, turning towards his brother.

He started walking towards the edge of the waterfall, one hand clutching his amulet while the other arm wrapped around his stomach, fingers grabbing onto the hilt of Yamato.

"No one can have this Dante. It's mine. It belongs to a son of Sparda. Leave me and go, if you don't want to be trapped in the demon world. I'm staying. This place, was our father's home."

And Mundus was coming. He needed to be stalled.

As Vergil predicted, Dante tricked towards him, intending to grab his brother before he fell over the edge. They may fight each other to the death, hate each other guts, but they were still brothers. The younger twin would try to keep his brother from falling. The elder twin would try to keep his brother from succeeding and possibly having them both defeated by Mundus.

And the elder twin won out due to his foresight. Yamato sung as Vergil sliced his brother's hand, fulling tipping over into the darkness below.

···

Vergil glared at the glowing three eyes that stared down at him. So that was Mundus.

"It would be fun to fight with the Prince of Darkness. If my father did it, I should be able to do it too!"

It was a lie, and he knew it too. There was no way he would be able to survive this fight. But he had to last as long as possible in order to allow his brother to escape from the demon realm and for the portal to close. His mind subconsciously prepared to seal his memories of his mate and Nero. Mundus knew of his brother, knew of his mother, sealing memories of them would do him no good. But he could protect Nero, keep Mundus from learning of his existence for as long as possible.

He should feel terrified over the prospect of dying or worse, being forced to serve Mundus as a shell of his former self. But he wasn't, he was far from it, for he knew who he was protecting by facing Mundus.

He understood in that moment what his father, what Sparda was thinking, when he disappeared that night all those years ago. For Sparda, it was his last act as a husband and a father to protect the ones he loved. And now for Vergil, who was doing something similar, it was going to be his last act and a brother and a father.

And it was the easiest decision he had made.

AN: I wrote this in about 3 hours and proceeded to read it over and over again trying to figure out where I feel like I somewhat OOCed Vergil a bit. But obviously I couldn't figure that out. I even left it alone for a little bit and came back and STILL couldn't figure it out. This is what happens when I try to get into Vergil's brain over things we have little knowledge about how he would act weee.

Ah well, still pretty proud of this one-shot, so I have that going for me.

~Dagon