Kyrie greeted the two of them with a nod as the twins re-entered the room. She was seated next to Nero's hospital bed with his hand still clutched in hers. Vergil must have noticed the gesture as well, because he pulled his gaze away from their intertwined hands quickly.

"Do either of you need anything?" She asked and Dante's heart just about melted.

"Nah. In fact, I should be asking you that question. Ain't exactly the shortest trip from Fortuna to Redgrave."

Vergil stared out the window pensively, back entirely turned on the both of them. He had both hands clasped firmly behind him and resting on the small of his back. If Kyrie found the gesture rude, she had yet to comment on it. Instead she only smiled at Dante and stroked small circles into Nero's hand with her thumb. The heart monitor beeped out a steady beat in the background. Dante leaned against the wall and stretched out his arms behind him. He was facing Kyrie, even if the same couldn't be said for his twin.

"So who's looking after the place while the two of you are gone?" Dante asked.

He wasn't really one for small talk but the silence was worse. And Vergil sure wasn't gonna fill it.

Kyrie sighed and shifted in her chair, "Nico is keeping an eye on things. But she's always been a bit..." she pressed her lips together, obviously searching for a way to put it politely. "Well, eccentric."

Dante couldn't help but snort at that. That was certainly one way to put it. Kyrie smiled slightly and ran a hand through Nero's cropped hair absently.

"But we also have a volunteer to help out whenever we need him. He's amazing, I don't know what we'd do without him."

"And the kids?"

Dante hadn't known that Vergil had been following the conversation, but there was no mistaking the speed with which he reeled around. Even if he wasn't the most sociable, he'd obviously surmised Kyrie and Nero's relationship pretty accurately. He had always been observant, which meant that he was good at reading people. Now, he took in the way the fingers of her left hand stroked Nero's hair and how her right hand still clutched his. This clearly only cemented his understanding of their bond. Vergil was usually an incredibly inexpressive guy who kept his emotions close to his chest. But there was no mistaking the look on his face. It was pure shock with a hint of panic.

"Children?" He asked in a small voice.

Clearly the idea had freaked him out enough that he'd been caught off guard. Dante clapped a hand to the big guy's shoulder and chuckled.

"They're adopted, relax. Kyrie and Nero run an orphanage on the side."

Vergil visibly deflated at his assurance. But Dante couldn't help but poke the bear. Wasn't that a little brother's job?

"You're not a grandpa. At least, not yet, anyway," he added.

Vergil turned his grey eyes on his him, clearly unimpressed. His lips were pressed into a thin line of disapproval. Dante was so dead. Worth it, though. But his execution was cut short.

"Grandpa?" Kyrie repeated, eyes wide. Then she pressed her hand to her mouth with a squeak. "It's none of my business, please excuse me. I was just a little surprised."

Dante could almost see Vergil soften at that. And honestly, he wasn't surprised. His older brother's disregard for human life in general aside, it was kind of impossible to hate Kyrie. And Vergil had always been incredibly private. Of course he'd appreciate the discretion.

"I always assumed Dante-" She said quietly, likely to herself.

She didn't finish the thought, but she hadn't needed to. Most people were guilty of that assumption. Kid had the same fire to him, the same cheesy one-liners. And before Nero had gotten that crew cut, they'd almost had the same hair, too.

"Kid stabbed me with my own sword when I met him. Should've been my first clue he was Vergil's. "

Dante risked a glance at his brother and he swore he actually looked proud. The asshole.

"You and Nero are... Married?" Vergil asked haltingly.

He still hadn't turned to face Kyrie, even as he posed the question. He had returned to watching the horizon. Guess there hadn't been much sky in hell. Maybe he'd missed it.

"Oh goodness, no. He's my boyfriend, that's all," she looked a little embarrassed at the question.

Vergil only nodded. A comment about getting to know his future daughter-in-law died on Dante's lips. His older brother was actually making an effort and it was weirdly sweet. He didn't want to risk ruining it. But that seemed to be it for now. The silence stretched on awkwardly, permeated only by beeping and the rasps of Nero's oxygen mask. Kyrie seemed to sense that the window had passed, because she got to her feet.

"I'm going to the cafeteria. Do either of you need anything?" She announced.

"That's a good idea. Hey, I'll join you!" Dante quickly followed suit. Then he turned back once he'd reached the door. "Hey Vergil, why don't you spend some time chatting to Nero, huh? I'm sure he'd like to catch up. "

His older brother raised his eyebrows scornfully. But Dante didn't give him time to reply. Instead, he quickly slammed the door behind him.

So Kyrie and his asshole of an old man had actually sort of talked? And it'd been mostly civil? Nero had to admit, he was stunned. He was glad to know the kids were looked after, too. It'd been weighing on him but he hadn't been able to ask. He knew about Kylo, the volunteer. Kyrie'd had to employ his services the last time Nero had been comatose. She'd needed an extra pair of hands in his absence. But it was still a welcome assurance that the children were being properly looked after all the same. Nero heard Vergil fall into the chair with a huff.

"This is ridiculous, even for Dante," he mumbled to himself.

And then there was a sound of someone rubbing a hand over bare skin. Maybe he'd run his hand over his face. A heavy book is opened. It's either the William Blake collection or another book that Vergil had brought from home. Aside from having to sit around uselessly while everyone worried themselves sick over him, Nero's second complaint about being comatose was that it was so fucking boring. Now that Dante and Kyrie were gone, all he had for company was his genocidal father and the sound of him reading. He was definitely going to go fucking nuts before the whole thing was over. But from boredom or worry? The jury was still out on that one. Vergil was incredibly quiet. His footsteps, his breathing, it was all silent. Incredibly fitting for his statuesque persona. A sigh, like the old man was mulling something over in his head. The turning of pages was stilled.

"Nero, if you really are in there... This is ridiculous, I'm talking to an empty room."

Say it, dammit! Say anything! Give him some form of entertainment!

"Once this is all over, I look forward to our rematch. If such a time comes. You should be proud of how well you fought."

And it wasn't a whole lot. It was a short statement said in an almost monotone voice. But coming from Vergil, an incredibly disciplined man who didn't waste a single movement... Well the idea of him speaking out loud to a person who may not even be listening, was almost a fucking miracle. Nero filed it for future reference, into a folder full of evidence that maybe his father wasn't a total bastard. A file that was slowly filling, bit by bit.