Nero came to feeling like absolute shit. The room was cold and he was lying under sheets that were scratchy as hell. There was an irritating beeping noise and he was hooked up to so many wires he felt like a fucking cyborg. There was a plastic device pressed over his mouth and nose that seeped cool air onto his skin. Made him sound like Darth Vader, though. His side hurt like hell and... was he wearing a dress? What the shit? Reflexively, he sat up with a groan. Or tried to, anyway. His body stubbornly refused to move. That was weird. He tried again to no avail. What the fuck? He tried to wiggle his fingers but again there was nothing. Was he paralysed? What the fuck was going on? The beeping picked up speed as his heart raced. A rough hand touched his upper arm gently.

"Relax, kid. You're okay."

Was that Dante? What the fuck was going on?

"He's comatose. He can't hear you," came a familiar nasal voice. Vergil was here, too? That was extra weird.

Comatose. The dress must be a hospital gown, then. He'd gone through that before after his old man had ripped off his arm. Passed out from the shock and blood loss and woken up in a hospital bed with one hell of a five 'o clock shadow. V- or Vergil, whatever. The whole thing made his head hurt- had shown up in his hospital room with a proposition for revenge. Nero still didn't know how to feel about the situation. V had been lying to him from the get-go. But how much of V was Vergil? His old man wasn't exactly the honest sort, either, and they both seemed to thoroughly enjoy being ominous and cryptic as shit. The gears turned in Nero's brain, trying to piece together what had happened this time. Last thing he remembered was losing a decent chunk of his side to a behemoth bite and Dante screaming at him. After that it was bits and pieces. Dante telling him he wasn't going to die and then everything fading to black. Firm hands winding bandages around his torso. The soft leather of a couch. Needles prickling deep into his skin. He hadn't been able to move through any of it. How bad was his side, had the demon healing kicked in yet? He wished he could take a look for himself.

"You don't know that," Dante rebutted.

This time was different though. He was definitely awake, even if he couldn't move or speak. It was weird as hell. Kyrie was gonna be pissed. That was, considering she even knew. How long had it been since he'd passed out? Why was Vergil here? God he wished he could ask. Dante's hand finally withdrew from his arm. Nero heard the sound of wood scraping against tile and then the turning of pages, as if a book had been picked up from a surface and opened.

"So, you gave the kid your precious William Blake collection?" Nero could hear the smile in Dante's voice.

Vergil only made a scoffing noise in response. From the direction of their voices, Dante must have been on Nero's left, and Vergil on his right with the hospital bed sandwiched between them.

"You wouldn't even let me touch that thing, insisted on putting your initial on it," Dante continued.

"Not that it ever stopped you. "

The sound of shifting fabric came from his right, like Vergil had adjusted his position.

"Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your boy isn't much of a reader."

Had the book really been that important to his father? Nero hadn't really had time to process when it had been flung his way. Dante was right, he wasn't the bookish type, anyway. He could never sit still long enough to devour a book. It never occupied enough of his brain to keep his focus. The hands-on demand of steel against steel as he fought, that's what Nero was made for.

"No, clearly not. From what I've gathered, most of his vocabulary seems to consist of the word 'fuck'," Vergil said dryly.

Dante laughed at that. Nero really wished he could tell the both of them to go fuck themselves. He didn't even care that he'd be proving Vergil's point exactly.

"He's arrogant, vulgar, impatient, and hot-headed. Are you sure you're not his sire?" The nasal voice continued.

Nero's ears were ringing. God but Vergil was an absolute fucking asshole. There came the sound of someone scratching their stubble.

"Yeah he's spirited, all right," Dante said in a soft voice.

"A grievous understatement."

"But he's a good kid."

Then, so quietly that Nero couldn't even be sure he'd said it: "I never said otherwise. "

"Awww, Verg. You're gonna melt my heart saying all that cutesey shit about your little boy!"

"I'll kill you."

Footsteps running towards the other side of the room, followed by scuffling noises. Vergil's chair scraped against the tile and Nero's bed was knocked more than once by their tousling. He could only hope he wouldn't end up on the wrong end of a mirage blade. The sound of his room door opening finally snapped the twins out of it. Nero would've breathed a sigh of relief if he could. He'd finally gotten the two of them to knock the fighting off and he'd be damned if they killed each other now.

"Mr. Dante?"

Nero's heart leapt into his throat. That was Kyrie's voice. What he wouldn't give to be able to take her in his arms right now.

"And you must be Mr. Vergil?"

His pulse was racing. Fuck if that asshole said anything to her, he would absolutely kill him. But even as his ears strained, they were met with silence. Nero could just picture it, Kyrie standing with her hand extended to greet him, and Vergil staring down his nose at her. He would kill him.

"Please excuse my brother, little miss. He's terribly shy."

He almost snorted at that. Vergil was less shy and more of a snooty prick. But Nero appreciated the gesture nonetheless, diffusing the situation like that. Clearly Dante was used to having to cover for Vergil.

"I see," she said sweetly. Then, "Oh, Nero. "

She must have finally noticed him, then. Slim fingers took his own calloused ones and held them tightly. Nero wished he could clasp her hand back. Instead, his fingers hung limply in her grasp. He heard the settling of a weight into the chair next to him and Kyrie's other hand brushed his forehead. Nero wanted to kiss her so badly he ached. There was the sound of Dante clearing his throat.

"We'll uh, give you two some privacy, then. Come on, Verg. "

The two shuffled out and the door clicked behind them.

Kyrie pressed a kiss to his hair and let out a shaky sigh. Her lips were whisper-soft. He'd forgotten how good she smelled. Her scent was kind of flowery but it was also like nothing else in the world. Cheesy as it was, she smelt like home. He wished he could breathe it in now but the air from his oxygen mask was cool and sterile. It smelled like ozone and nothing else. Her hair tickled his face as she pulled back.

"Oh Nero," she repeated. "Come back to me. "