Disclaimer: I do not own DMC nor am I recompensed for my time. Except in reviews.

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Prometheus

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Vergil stayed there with his father long after they had both woken up, resting and enjoying each other's company. No words were exchanged. He had wanted this as a child, this bond, missed it: now he had it and did not deserve it. When Sparda knew… he should savor this while he could, even though knowing what he was deprived of would make the rejection hurt even more.

There was a knock at the door, too light to be Dante: he always banged hard twice, this was a quick patter of six knocks, light enough not to disturb a sleeper (unless they were Vergil, who was hair-triggered), but loud enough to be easily heard even through blankets.

"Yes?" Vergil called.

"It's me, babycakes. Your brother's not back yet, so I thought I'd bring the food." Nevan. Food, she added.

Will get, Sparda told Vergil, and squirmed out of the fort.

He heard the door opening and hoped Sparda would not remember Nevan had belonged to Mundus.

Is safe, Sparda told him when he sensed Vergil's worry. Belongs to younger nestling, Endurance. Dante.

"Here you go, you cute little thing you." He heard claws tap against metal as Sparda took a tray, or so Vergil guessed, and, quietly, a hand patting a carapace-covered head.

Thank you. Vergil heard Nevan close the doors as Sparda flew back to him, putting the tray on the ground and then lifting the blankets off of Vergil. Sparda sat down as Vergil pushed down a wall of the fort so he could get out.

The tray had two plates: salmon and rice with a glass of water for Vergil and raw steak for Sparda: in devil form he wouldn't be able to digest anything but meat in the way of solid food, emotion was another matter.

Sparda waited for Vergil to start eating before he did, picking the pieces up with taloned hands, first nibbling and then, after he knew they were good, eating them whole. This is good, but there is other food.

"What?" Vergil asked.

Only remembered now, seeing food. I had the food in souls stored in something that wasn't a soul, because imprisoning human souls hurts them. Much power there, for in case hurt badly. Will go get now. Sparda flew up, concentrated to reactivate the wards on the room, and then flew down through the floor.

Vergil waited, but Sparda didn't come back. Father? He called.

There was only a weak response, from far below. The caves beneath the castle.

What if he had overloaded trying to absorb enough power to recover? Vergil pushed open the doors and headed for the stairs.

Yes, the trace of Sparda's presence was coming from below here, where his workrooms were, but the door did not open, sealed only to him. Father! Father, wake up! Worry! What if Sparda died again, became his devil arm? Would they ever be able to unseal these rooms and retrieve it to raise him again? It would all be Vergil's fault for not stopping him!

Nestling? The trace was stronger now.

Father, come back to me! He tried to mimic the lost nestling he felt like, tried to focus on the need for his father that it seemed like had always been with him, use Sparda's misplaced desire to protect his son to rouse him.

Can't… come here. The wards relaxed.

Vergil ran down the stairs: the sixth door along was open. "Father!" he called, rushing in.

A body lay on the floor near a broken jar that had spilled things that looked like white marbles but radiated power. A human body. A groan came from it.

The next thing Vergil knew he was next to it. "Are you alright?"

"I should have waited until I had eaten a fourth," Sparda answered, carefully pushing himself up to his knees. Vergil offered him a hand. "Thank you." He took a deep breath. "Well, that seems to work. I'll know if I failed to shape some organ correctly if my healing energy starts being drained." He stood with Vergil's help and then leaned against the counter. "Oh dear. Don't touch them, they're modified white orbs and will try to drain your power as you are not I." He showed Vergil his hands, which wore leather gloves.

Vergil noticed his appearance for the first time.

He looked exactly as he did in most of the pictures: the clothing, the amulet around his neck, the hair, the eyes (so like his own), the wisdom: the only thing wrong was the tiredness.

That and the fact that he was beginning to look amazed as he pulled himself together. "How on earth did you survive?"

"We managed."

"Eva died not long after I was defeated. How on earth… you were children even by human standards. That you survived, let alone that you grew this powerful, is simply impossible! It's know that human hybrids mature faster, but this much power so young?"

"I'm not that strong."

"Only compared to Dante. I've never seen… Mundus' strength was that of a legend, it was how he gained so many followers, but Dante eclipses him!" Sparda shook his head. "I can't understand it. I'm not a weak devil despite my defeat, but first nestlings are always weaker, as human hybrids are weaker. How is it possible he triumphed over Mundus?"

"He had help, Trish," Vergil explained.

"Trish?"

"The clone of Mother."

Sparda relaxed. "You know she is not your Mother?"

"Of course. She's part human, so she was able to rebel against Mundus and side with Dante."

"I see… and I have attacked her when I should have thanked her for doing what I could not..." Sparda's knees buckled as he tried to take a step. "Did I do something wrong: no, merely out of practice…" Another, better, though he braced himself against the counter.

"Here, Father, let me help you." Vergil reached out to him.

"You were captured by Mundus."

"Yes." How did you know?

"It's obvious that you've been tortured, it's stunted your growth. You would be much closer to Dante's level otherwise, twins are meant to be equal." He swayed a little, letting Vergil support him.

So he wasn't inherently weaker than Dante? It was all Mundus' fault? But that didn't explain how Dante had defeated him on Temen ni Gru.

"I'm so sorry. I failed you all." Sparda lowered his head. "I am unworthy to be called your father."

"What?" Don't you want me as your son?

"I am Dante's devil arm now, I shall serve him as best I can, if he lets me despite my failure."

Father would be Dante's? As Mother had favored Dante?

That was fair, Dante was the savior, Vergil was the traitor, the weak one.

But still, it hurt to hear this from the one he had hoped would love him best, even though he should have given up on that by now.