Driving had always been oddly therapeutic for Dante. The endless roads, the sun on his face, the clouds moving rapidly through the skies.

The conversation between him and Verge had fallen short a couple of minutes ago, engulfing them in a pleasant bout of silence. Spending Christmas with Nero and his family had been a nice change of pace, and he'd enjoyed it just a little too much.

Goodbyes were always the hardest, were they not? He could feel the void in his heart already, as if he was coming down from a buzz, cold and sinking. He'd miss Kyrie's soft voice humming in the kitchen. Miss the kids running from here to there, livening up the house. Miss Nero's soft, dad-like nature that Dante could never get enough of.

He'd also miss sleeping in the same bed as Verge, even if that was something he'd never tell his twin. Vergil's familiar warmth beside him had brought a lot of pleasant memories of simpler times when Mom was still alive and their biggest problem was figuring out who was going to sleep on the top bunk- the bottom one was for losers, and neither fancied themselves as one. Their arguments were always loud, and it never took long for one of them to come out scathed. Sometimes there were tears. Sometimes there were fists. The yelling would always wake their parents up, and Mom, bless her heart, would always try her best to get them to calm down, talk it out, and reach an agreement of sorts. That worked out well until Dad got tired of the fighting, plucked the top bunk out and made a giant bed for them both.

And, with that, there was finally peace in their household.

Kind of.

There was always something in the middle to keep the other away from their half of the bed- it was all Verge's idea because he hated having his twin so close. Still, Dante would always roll over to his side of the bed in the middle of the night -not on purpose, though, he'd always moved a lot when he slept. Vergil's swat on the cheek would wake him in a daze, and then they would have another lengthy shouting match in 'hushed tones'.

Kitty slept between them these last couple of days, sprawled as if they were lying on a Cal King bed. His neck was still sore from sleeping in awkward positions, but hell, he'd do it again if he could.

His eyes drifted towards Vergil, trying to see what he what his lousy copilot was up to. He'd been far too silent, and Dante wouldn't be surprised to see that he'd fallen asleep just like he'd done on the way to Fortuna. Strangely enough, instead of seeing his twin with his eyes closed, he saw him wide awake, frowning as he stared at nothing, seemingly lost in thought.

"You alright?"

No answer, just a pensive hum that made Vergil frown even deeper, if that could ever be possible.

"Has Nero ever called you 'uncle'?" Vergil asked with a tone so neutral he might've been just talking about the weather or the fly that had gotten stuck on the car's windshield wipers.

If only Dante couldn't see right through that.

The red-clad devil was expecting something else from Vergil, something among the lines of him being tired, but he supposed it made sense, all things considered. Vergil's relationship with Nero was a little better than the mess it used to be a couple of months ago -they were past the screaming and the kid calling him 'a fucking asshole', for starters-, but Vergil was still Vergil, and Dante was still 'old man'.

"Nope," Dante replied, eyes back on the road just to make sure that the slowpoke on the right lane hadn't drifted a little too close to the left. 'Uncle' and 'nephew' were words that he still didn't feel exactly comfortable with just yet. 'Kid' was better. As was 'old man'. A tad more impersonal, yet too personal all together. "Why?"

Was Vergil really upset about that? Dante didn't want to outright say that his twin was jealous of his relationship with Nero. Bitter? Sure. Vergil had always been bitter and grudge-y. But jealous? Nah. Especially now that the kid had gotten him that cool violin that was carefully secured in the back seat.

He saw Verge's jaw tightening from the corner of his eyes, the stoic mask breaking just a bit as he spoke, his words laced with a certain type of confusion that seemed almost innocent to Dante:

"Nero called me 'dad' last night."

How foreign that word felt for Vergil, almost acidic as it left his lips. He'd paid little attention when Nero actually said it, his mind merely skimming over the word before he went to bed; but, now that his head was clearer, he could see that was the reason why Vergil had felt a strange type of tension between them in the morning.

Had Nero been…embarrassed? Or, perhaps, disappointed that he didn't acknowledge it? That he'd simply overlooked the fact that Nero had said a word that he'd never uttered before? And no, calling Vergil 'father' after telling him he would make him submit did not have the same connotation that the word had last night.

It'd been…personal. A sign that things between them were going well. That Nero felt comfortable enough around him to toss that word his way. That Vergil was doing well enough to deserve it, even if he didn't feel worthy of it.

Or, perhaps, it'd been something else entirely.

He was well-aware that there had been some sort of drinking involved last night- he was able to tell by the smell of Dante's putrid breath tickling the side of his face as he'd shamelessly snored the night away and how Nero had seemed to wince slightly when the sun hit his face in the morning.

Except Nero had been sober when he came into the room last night.

Dante's booming laugh beside him brought Vergil back to reality, and the low huff coming from the back let him know that he had, unfortunately, woken Shadow up. He shot his twin a glare, one that couldn't seem to waver that strange type joy sparkling in his brother's eyes.

"I'm not laughing at you," Dante quickly added, giving his twin a little dismissive way before his hand landed back on the steering wheel. "Okay, maybe I am. You should've seen that look on your –ouch!" A hint of black hit him as Shadow made her way to the front, smacking him with the tip of her tail. He wiped the bits of demonic fur off his lips with the back of his hand, knowing damn well that he was going to find them coating his mouth for the rest of the day.

"Nero really means the things he says, you know?" Dante continued, and he felt his brother's eyes boring into him, waiting for him to elaborate something that he already knew as Shadow nearly melted into a puddle in his arms. The red-clad devil couldn't remember if he'd ever heard Nero calling Kyrie by anything but her name in public, and guess what? He'd called Vergil 'dad'. In private. Just for the two of them to hear. And if that wasn't some goddamn sign that Verge didn't have to think too hard about it then he didn't know what the hell that'd been. "Think he appreciates that you're finally acting like a dad."

"Finally?"

"Staring at him from across the room doesn't count as parenting." Dante couldn't help it. Vergil had actually done that the first month or so and that certainly didn't fit into anyone's definition of 'bonding'. "All jokes aside," He continued, shooting his brother a glance and offering a sincere smile. "You're doing good, Verge."

Vergil scoffed. He didn't need a pep talk from his brother about his parenting skills –or lack thereof.

How easy it was for him to compare his experiences with his own father to the ones he was offering Nero. Vergil'd been more of a threat than a parent and had, at one point, seen his son as something disposable. He wasn't the same man he used to be merely months ago, but he knew how very much alike he and Nero were, and how his actions were going to be forever embedded on the child's mind.

Vergil would've never accepted such foolery. Would've never accepted feeble promises of 'making amends'.

But Nero wasn't him.

His son was still willing to give him a chance. Wanted to believe that he'd truly changed. That he was trying, for once, to think about someone other than himself.

How absurd it was that such a simple word had caused such an internal storm of self-doubt and loathing.

He couldn't escape the past. It would always be there, looming over his head, reminding him of his mistakes, both past and present. Of who he was. Of who he could've been.

But, for now, he would rather focus on the future. On who he could be. On who he could become.

"I suppose I am." Vergil finally concluded, absently running one of his hands through Shadow's fur. The sun was starting to go down and the sky began to show an array of oranges and pinks around them. He reached for the radio, turning it on and letting the music drown away his restless thoughts.


I'm so sorry for taking nearly a month to upload something again. I couldn't, for the life of me, give this chapter a proper ending or finish another draft that I have lying around.

I'm a lil nervous, not gonna lie. I wanted to explore the whole 'Nero called Vergil dad' thing from the Christmas special -thanks for the idea, AVAAntares!-, but my Vergil has always been, well, quite an ass, so I hope I managed to do him justice.

Thank you so much for your patience! And thank you for reading ❤️