Nero had spent most of the day in bed sleeping off his big breakfast and watching something good enough to erase the events of this morning. He gave up trying to deduce the time of day but guessed he had locked himself up for the sufficient amount of time allocated for moping and groaning, given the topic that caused his current distress. Some things in life were too complicated to mull over, risking the chance of stressing over things out of your control, or they were just not worth the time you spend thinking about different results and circumstances that factored into the overall outcome. The past was in the past, and he revelled in the chances he would get in his future; Hell wasn't the type of place for dreams to come true, but he knew deep down that anything was possible as long as he wasn't alone. Living with Vergil and the happiness it brought him equated to more than he had in his entire life up to this point; he was sure his performance after eating set them two steps back in their acquaintanceship and wanting to make it up to him already seemed like a horrible idea, given what happened last time.

Nero slowly lifted the covers and located his slippers on the floor, taking a deep breath and hoping Hell stored some invisible courage in the air he was now breathing. He moved to his door and grabbed for the handle, only to have it grasped from someone on the other side; Nero swiftly stepped away and barely missed getting hit in the face by the chunk of wood when an out of place delicate hand and voice reached for him. "Could I steal you for a second?"

He shyly nodded, letting Vergil lead him out of his room. "I'm still in my pjs."

"I couldn't care less."

The authority in his voice sent shivers down the teen's spine; most of the time the sternness was playful and sarcastic, empty threats at Nero's life and awkwardness in general, but the commanding undertone spoke of a switch that had turned off inside Vergil's brain, a dangerous signal in anybody's book. As much as he wanted to snub the concept, the new Vergil excited him. As he was taken to the dining room, the crushing smell of smoke hit his lungs unexpectedly; Nero impulsively tugged in the opposite direction from which they came, but a soothing squeeze to his hand quelled the worry growing in his frame. The heat came quickly as he sat at the table, confused now more than ever. "Please tell me what's going on before I scream."

There was another aroma, but the clouds of smoke hid it well. "Okay, now follow my voice and blow."

"Those words make no sense-"

"Do it." Vergil moved something on the table and the heat and ungodly smell got stronger. "Trust me."

He did as he was told, tilting his head to the side to take a mouthful of fresh air and blew at the general direction Vergil was in, and the odour with the miniscule heat disappeared. His senses were attacked by the smell of freshly-made confectionery, but what he did still made no sense. "What were those?"

"Candles." Vergil swished the smoke away from him. "Little bundles of wax that come in different shapes and sizes that have a wick in the middle which you set alight for people to blow out-"

"I know what candles are." The welcoming smell of chocolate hit his nasal cavity and he wanted more than anything for the pieces of his collected environment to not be true; it was very like and unlike Vergil at the same time - unexpected yet predictable; out of character yet so undeniably him that Nero had no choice but to go with it. "I've seen a few around."

A raised eyebrow was all the atmosphere needed. "Then did you make a wish like you were supposed to?" Vergil was a master at mingling his trademark disappointment with degrading sass, a flavour best savoured with the chocolate cake that was in front of him.

He grabbed one and lit it again, not needing an answer given Nero's facial expression. "I don't think I need to make one, Vergil."

It flew over his head.

He held the now burning candle at a safe distance. "You don't."

He still couldn't resist: following the unofficially altered protocol, Nero obeyed and made his wish while Vergil busied himself with picking the other six out of the brown frosting. He moved to the kitchen and grabbed a sharp knife, heating it on a flame on the gas stove and allowing it to reach the proper temperature for cutting the cake. Vergil felt really silly in going to all these lengths, but if there was ever a happy memory he believed everyone to possess and experience at least once was a decent birthday, even more so if the party included possessed no happy memories whatsoever. "I decided to give them one last try."

The smell invading his nose now made perfect sense. "The custard ones?"

"It must've known I was making it for someone else so they decided to play along."

After slicing the perfect slice and handing it over with an approved experimental pancake, Vergil passed him a fork and sat back in his seat wondering how he was going to do this. He seldom became nervous speaking to anyone, but the subject matter alone could lead to an unprecedented reaction from the man across the table, and the last thing he wanted was upsetting Nero twice in one day. As much as he wished to show that he didn't care, Nero's past had put a damper in him relishing the teens makeshift agony at any given time and even more so now that the topic of conversation upset him to the extent of leaving it unfinished altogether. Three deep breaths were not enough to suppress the building anxiety in his throat and as each second ticked by he drew closer and closer to crumpling the invisible speech sitting on the table in front of him.

Nero was well aware the sweets were there to shut him up until and in the duration he spoke, probably about the events at breakfast, but who was he to complain? He happily took a bite out of his slice, licking the edges of his mouth to claim all the frosted chocolaty goodness. If Vergil thought his contemplation went unnoticed, he would have to think again. "It wasn't your fault-"

Vergil's coffee mug hit the table unintentionally hard. "We all have our pasts that we wish we could forget, but it isn't that simple. It makes us who we are and it makes us want to achieve better than what we originally sought out to do, just to prove that we are much more than the insignificance we were taught to believe." He paused to watch him gobble on, pretending to not be phased by his words. "You're going to be here for an inordinate amount of time, Nero; time that you'll never get back and time you'll never be able to measure-"

Nero was obscenely uncomfortable in his chair staring at nothing in particular; with his fork raised halfway to his mouth he placed it down gently, lacing his fingers and fidgeting over the ledge of the table drawing Vergil's attention to his hands instead of his face. The beginning of his dialogue already implied that this was going to take a deeper and darker turn and he wanted nothing more than to hinder whatever rant Vergil had prepared for him. "Why are you telling me this?"

He spoke softly, but his toned, broad shoulders gave him away. When the teen made no attempt to relax, Vergil moved closer and gently snuck his hand between Nero's, breaking them apart and cradling them in his until he did so. "Don't do that. It makes me nervous."

Nero was taken aback by the sincerity in his voice; his words struck a chord deep inside him that he chose not to explain owing to embarrassment and he had to stop the older man quickly before all hell broke loose in his mind and he would dive into the corner dedicated to regret and self-loathing – the corner he had tried to avoid for three years. "If you're planning on getting emotional with this, I strongly suggest you stop right now because it's taking everything I have in me to stay in this chair."

Holding his hand gave him the perfect opportunity to observe the new layer of armour that grew in the small space of a few hours: the underlay of blue shone bright in contrast to the bloody red scales that had formed over it, converging on his forearm to form a line down the centre of his wrist that acted as a visual representation of his life force; it grew up to his knuckles and halfway on his thumb, opening at the base of his wrist to show his blue palm, and a rough spike of armour shielded his elbow. Vergil guessed that the new layer served as protection from exposure of the blue armour that did most of the work and harnessed the demonic power that now ran through Nero's veins. The rest of his arm had altered to a navy blue, pulsing with the blood that was used to heal him. His hair had taken a snowy turn just like his, and his natural roots were nowhere in sight; he assumed it was the hair dye that he had recently purchased, but those blonde traces had also vanished with the wind. The human side of him thankfully kept his eyebrows their natural colour, and it seemed that the overall physical change was complete. The influence wasn't all as bad as he anticipated; at least Nero still looked human.

Looking at his face he was snapped back to the reality of the situation. "The past is yours to make you stronger; the hand of cards that were dealt to you as a living being faded away when you stepped through those gates. Stop running – it won't solve anything. Whether or not you choose to waste this second chance is up to you, but having no control over what happened on the surface is the reason it's meant to be tossed aside, making space for innumerable other bad decisions to make while you're here." Vergil's usual spark of genius misinterpreted Nero's words to meaning the direct opposite of its intention, wanting to get his point across. "Looking back is the only thing obscuring your way forward-"

"And what does that way forward entail, Vergil?" Nero's scaly grip squeezed tighter, showing the menace in his tone was out of curiosity.

"Whatever the hell you want it to be." Vergil's thought was caught by a surprise yawn. "You need a clear head to survive in here, and it cannot be dampened by experiences that should by now mean nothing to you."

Nero shuffled closer to the table and held his hand tightly, moving his empty plate to the side. "The only reason I'm here is because they mean something to me-"

"Which would be what?" Vergil's reply was soft and calm, merely wanting to put his mind at ease from this morning. He sank deeper in his chair as the mental strain of the day kicked in, the information overload burning what energy he had left to face Nero and place his insecurities to rest. As strange as it seemed to him, the last of his remaining strength clung onto the teen sitting across from him. "They are worthless, Nero. You have nothing to prove to anyone."

"I have yet to prove it to myself, so I wouldn't count them as worthless just yet." Nero smiled the purest, innocent smile while playing with their intertwined fingers as if they were the best thing since his peanut addiction: he seemed to be in a much better mood than previously and Vergil wanted to keep it that way, whatever it took. The thought left an unfamiliar taste in his mouth - one he could see himself getting used to.

He was too busy being cute for his own good that he ignored his roommate's expiring will to stay awake. He made the next yawn as discreet as he could manage while the teen carried on the menial task of amusing himself with their hands. "Did you just think that up so we could stop talking about it?"

Nero took full control of one of his hands and ran a clawed finger into the grooves of his palm, nearly causing the ticklish demon to pull his hand away and shred it in the process. The action, however, didn't wake him from his sleepy haze. "That's the point of the afterlife, isn't it? To do things better than before, to become better and stronger – come to think of it I didn't have much of a life before this, so technically this isn't a second chance." The pale blue of his arm reacted to Vergil's demonic aura, unbeknownst to the teen. "It's the first chance at life that I will have."

How was he going to get through what he needed to say next? "I want you to have motivation - a goal to work toward to keep you going when-"

"I have one, Vergil."

He avoided Vergil's gaze through the confession, but could still feel his steel gaze at the top of his head. Something peculiar caught his attention while he passed over the supple skin at the top of his hand; four small imprints – which he narrowed down to two sets of teeth marks – nested between his middle and ring finger, and thumb and forefinger. Nero could write an essay on the countless possibilities explaining the bite, but that involved processing that his brain alone couldn't handle; he committed the dents to memory for when he needed that perfect distraction. "Your hands are surprisingly soft for the serial killer you say you are."

Nero could feel the power of Vergil's smirk on his fingertips. "Mass murderer – there's a distinct difference."

The teen was looking straight at him, seeing nothing and exposing everything at the same time. He valued Vergil's friendship more than he could have imagined at this small gesture; over the short amount of time he got to know him, this display was out of character, leading him to believe that a rooted change was happening inside of him and that Vergil was scared because of it. His train of thought derailed at the cutest sound Nero had ever heard, trying to imagine what it may have looked like – the demon paid no heed to masking it this time as a full wave of sleep encompassed his built frame. "I think you need some sleep."

"We are not done here." Vergil was in the middle of his umpteenth yawn. "And that one doesn't count."

"Then hurry up; your body can't stand being awake much longer."

"So now it's my fault I can't say what I need to say?"

The onset of fatigue had claimed its prey; the sudden hit of tiredness presents the demonic entity with very little reaction time to it, burning the right amount of energy to find a place to perch and then lights out for the rest of the night: Vergil had tried fighting it, not recognising the unfamiliar trance as it ultimately led to him needing to be dragged into bed as a dead weight. Nero had yet to experience sleepy, mumbling, nonsensical Vergil and it was something he predicted with equal parts awkwardness and silly horror added to the mix.

Nero stood and held tighter onto his hand, pulling him from his chair and leading him to his bedroom. The pull was heavier than normal, owing to the added array of confection in his tummy and the effect of tiredness that was slowly enveloping his body. Nero became a master at worming his way around their home and in no time they were at his bedroom door; he deftly opened it and pushed him though, leading him to his destination.

The voice in front of him slurred his words, talking in his sleep. "How were they?"

Nero took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack in his room, removing the amulet he always kept in the left breast pocket and setting it down on top of his bedside dresser. "Your mom would've been very proud." Vergil stood at the edge of his bed ready to climb in and collapse the second his head hit the pillow but his drowsy state made no way for the compliment to sink in properly. As he lay sprawled under his covers, Nero unexpectedly knelt down and ran his human hand through Vergil's hair, soothing the last traces of his alert state. "Don't ever think that who you are isn't enough, alright?"

After that came a small click, and after that came complete darkness with the small blue glimmer of the amulet in the corner of his eye.

It was late at night when they heard the first scream; a guttural, painful shriek that would haunt them well into the years if their adult life. Dante woke first, running over to his older brother for protection, waking him up from a dream of baskets of sweet treats and pale blue clouds of marshmallow. Vergil blinked frantically at the second scream – much closer than the first – and held a weeping Dante to his chest. They knew what was coming, but they had prayed they'd be spared the morning of their ninth birthday.

The younger brother clutched at the necklace his mother gave him for his eighth birthday as the sharp edges dug into his skin and cared nothing for the blood that seeped from his wounds. "Vergil, I'm scared."

"Don't be, Dante. Everything is going to be okay."

"You promise?"

The front door of their house was blasted inward by an inescapable force and thirty or so hungry, maniacal demons washed through every crevice downstairs before slowly making their way up to snatch their prey. Their footsteps landed hard on each wooden step, cackling the closer they crept to every inhabitant's bedroom. "I promise."

Luck was on their side tonight as they were still too young to have their demon powers triggered, so trying to locate them by their scent was going to be downright impossible for the invading attackers. Vergil moved quickly in shifting his bed to the side, revealing a trap door underneath his bed. He heaved it open and instructed his brother to climb in, leaving a tiny gap for him to breathe. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"There are things that have to be done, Dante – stay quiet under there and don't lose mommy's present, okay? You'll be safe, I swear it."

"Vergil, don't do this-"

Their bedroom door opened while Vergil stood stubbornly in the centre, ready to fight his part of the makeshift battle that was to ensue. He softened as he saw his mother's face peek through, sneaking in without making the hint of a sound. "You need to hide, sweety."

After seeing her face, Vergil busied himself in finding his half, located on the floor next to his bedside dresser. "I'm not leaving you to face these creatures alone, mother-"

"They are coming for me; they have no business with you. They don't know you exist, and I'll be damned to Hell if they find you after all these years." Like a true mother, she looked around the room for her son, and knowing her other son, bent down and saw two tiny blue eyes pop out from under the bed. "How you doing, champ?"

Dante replied in a broken voice. "Okay mommy. Vergil put me here, so I know I'll be safe." He sniffed, attempting to make himself believe the words that just left his mouth.

"That's my boy. Be quiet, this will all disappear soon. I love you."

With a small nod Dante retreated further into the hole and she turned her attention to her eldest. "Listen to me, okay? It's going to be fine; when the time comes, your father will come through for you and teach you all you're going to need to know on the way forward. For now, I need you to trust me-"

"I'm not going to watch you die-"

"Rather me than all of us, my dear."

From the other side of the door, the demons could be heard bashing down their mother's bedroom door, rummaging on and through every surface they could find. Vergil was rushed into the closet he and his brother shared; as she closed the door, he took hold of her arm with tears flowing from his icy blues. "You can't leave us."

"I will never leave you, Vergil. I'll always be here. Always."

With a parting kiss to his forehead, she caressed his cheek one last time and shut the doors, locking them for good measure. She turned and faced the door as it swung open, facing twenty angry salivating demons. "So this is where you've been hiding."

The pack of hunters were too focused on the task at hand that they didn't bother questioning the two single beds in the separate bedroom. "I'm not hiding. This is just a prettier room to die in, that's all."

"Indeed." The demons simultaneously drew their weapons and stalked closer to her. She backed herself into the only corner out of sight from her two children. A few of them disappeared from Vergil's view, and in that moment he knew his mother stood no chance of making it another day. He shrunk himself onto a tight ball on the wardrobe floor, balling a fist into his mouth and biting down hard to prevent any accidental noise escaping behind the wooden doors. The second line of monsters suddenly stopped in their tracks as his mother welcomed her inevitable death. "Any last words?"

He could hear the blade reach her skin. His mind shifted to his brother hidden on the other side of the room, praying he had no full view of what was about to happen to their mother. The tears streamed down Vergil's face as he heard her utter her final words as a living human being. "Rot in Hell."

"I'm sure your husband would love that." He covered his ears anticipating a blood curdling scream of pain and anger; instead the night was silent, flinching as demonic titanium steel slid through flesh-

Vergil managed to hold the scream as he woke in a cold sweat, sitting straight up and catching the breath he had been holding for who knows how long. He gawked around his room in frenzy and threw the covers off his body as he swung his legs over the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, rubbing at his temples and telling himself to calm down. Vergil's heart raced at an alarming speed causing his hands to inadvertently shake beyond his control reaching for the glass of water on his nightstand that wasn't there.

Instead, his hand grazed the sharp edges of his blue amulet that should have been in the desk drawer – the power of the amulet possessed both good and evil traits and acted in accordance with the owner's subconscious: a clear mind brought a good night's rest, while jumbled brought despair-inducing, discomforting nightmares assured to keep you awake for as long as possible. Vergil angrily opened his drawer and threw it hard enough to reach the back, gliding over Nero's peanut brittle he had hidden ages ago. A noise at his bedroom door made him turn faster than he needed to; with a towel draped over his shoulder, jug of water and empty glass at hand, Nero waited for his permission to enter the room. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Does it matter?" His voice was soft as he made his way across the room, dodging every obstacle in his path and setting down the icy beverage on its supposed spot; something about his fluid movements told Vergil that this was known territory to him, but in the heat of the moment he didn't care. He bolted for the water and poured a glass in record time, gulping it down and relishing in the cold bringing reality back into place. He poured a second, not pausing to breathe. "Who's Dante?"

Vergil preoccupied himself with finishing his drink, wiping the sides of his mouth with his bare hand. "Why do you ask?"

"You kept saying his name, over and over again." Nero was standing directly opposite at a safe distance, assuming his roommate would want his space after his nightmare; he made himself comfortable on the carpet at Vergil's feet playing with the loose threads that had withered with time. His face stooped low, seemingly watching himself fidget with the Persian cotton. "You kept calling for him, reaching out for him in your sleep-"

"Dante's my brother."

Sadly, his reply signalled the end of the conversation, but he could swear the man on the floor breathed a sigh of relief whilst picking at the expensive carpet. Nero moved to his knees and grabbed the towel, feeling the cool cloth in his hands before handing it over; Vergil caught the look on Nero's eyes and half-heartedly took it from him, enjoying the cool texture on his skin as he wiped the feint droplets of sweat on his forehead. His hands were still shaking from the ordeal and he felt embarrassed being so vulnerable; he knew Nero sensed the anxiety that wracked his body and hiding it was futile against a man who was able to pick up the tiniest of inconsistencies day to day. "Please don't worry. I swear I'm okay."

"I have no doubt about that." Vergil let the spread towel hang loosely in his grasp. Nero took it from him, folded it into a rectangle and did it the right way, reaching in the general direction where he had heard his voice and dabbing the towel along his silver hairline, using his finger to trace down the rest of the offending droplets; Vergil leaned into it unknowingly enjoying the attention given to him, also knowing Nero wouldn't leave until he convinced himself he was okay. He pensively moved closer to him, waiting for a gesture to stop - when none came, he snuggled between Vergil's legs and continued the quest with his bare hands, tracing his sharp, shaky features with his fingertips - he fell upon the invisible trail his tears left as he woke, following them to the corners of his mouth where he treaded lightly and used his thumb to wipe them away, earning a much needed hearty chuckle from the man on the bed. Nero imagined the kind smile that accompanied his laugh and couldn't help but smile too, looking directly at Vergil as he did so. He instinctively cuffed Nero's wrist that found its way to his jaw, rubbing his thumb over the gentle and soothing pulse of his heartbeat.

Nero's eyes grew at the sudden contact, surprised that his hand hadn't yet been swatted away by the demon. Vergil watched as his smile grew and the cogs in his brain whiz a split second faster, completely disregarding the fact that he missed a pulse holding his wrist; he watched Nero for a second longer, noticing a flicker of longing and apprehension cross his eyes. Vergil coyly leaned forward as his hands caressed Nero's neck, resisting the urge that had been building since he walked in the room; the man below braced himself knowing what was coming and straightened his spine, meeting his roommate halfway, giving him no leverage to turn back. They kissed, delicate on one another's lips like the unspoken tension between them; Vergil pulled him closer and closer, savouring the feel of Nero's skin on him as his hands snaked to the back of his head, playing with and threading his fingers through his snow white hair.

Nero's tongue escaped his mouth and ran over the other's lips, begging for entry into his mouth to deepen the kiss; Vergil obliged, grabbing his tongue and sucking ever so slightly before collapsing into Nero's mouth like a maniac starved of human contact for centuries. The teen whole-heartedly welcomed his advances, enjoying the idea of him taking charge in allowing him to quench the thirst he had watched grow since he moved in. With his hands anchored on his thighs the teen moved backward attempting to break the kiss for the burden of oxygen, but Vergil immediately caught his lower lip between his teeth and suckled at the enflamed flesh.

He couldn't get enough.