"You're not concentrating, Dorian," Vergil scolded, dropping his stance and tugging his mask over his head.

A second later, Dorian followed, his face rosy and damp from the mask. "Sorry, Uncle Vergil. It feels like forever since we've done this."

"It has been a while," Vergil conceded. Maybe two weeks was a little too long to neglect his training, but he hadn't wanted to push it too soon after Dorian got hurt and then he overlooked it a while longer in order to give Dorian and Dante a chance to bond. "You've never really liked fencing anyway."

Dorian looked sheepish. "I didn't know it was obvious."

"Your father never liked it much either."

Dorian perked up; he enjoyed hearing about his father when he'd been younger. It was a recent development, really. For a long time, he'd get angry anytime someone dared to mention he had a father. Now, they were getting along well (even though Dante tended to act like Dorian was a younger brother, not a son), and things had changed a little.

"That's because everybody looks a little like a fairy, jumping around on their toes and swinging that foil around," Dante interjected as he showed up just outside their training area, looking back and forth between his brother and his son. "Épée," he corrected himself, glancing at their weapons. "But that's not to say that footwork isn't important. Sometimes you come across an enemy where it gets to be a big thing, like when I had to fight-"

He cut himself off, glancing quickly at Vergil, who had a pretty good idea of what he was going to say. Dante smiled weakly. "Hell, I don't remember that guy's name. Wasn't important anyway," he said carelessly. "Anyway, kid, this one guy I had to fight was all about fancy footwork, so I was kind of glad I had to learn it."

"Do you want to fence against Dorian?" Vergil asked, offering his épée.

"Don't have any of my gear," Dante replied as he shrugged his shoulders.

"The last time I checked, we were the same size," Vergil pointed out, dryly.

Dante sighed and took the fencing sword, watching as Vergil tugged his gear off and handed it over. "You'll be evenly matched this way," he said as Dante pulled the jacket and glove on, tucking the mask under his arm as he looked around. "I'll judge."

"It's been forever since I've fenced," Dante murmured as he tugged the mask on. He waited for Dorian to follow suit, they crisply saluted each other, and then Vergil, and the match began.

Dorian lazily reached out, touching the point of his épée to his father's forearm.

"Point," Vergil called, smirking.

Dante's mouth dropped open, and he turned to look at his brother. "What?" he asked.

"Your whole body is a valid target area," Dorian reminded him smugly. "Or did you forget the rules in your old age?"

"Hey! Didn't your uncle teach you to respect your elders?"

"You got the 'elder' part right," Dorian taunted. "Too old to fence with me? C'mon! I'll go easy on you."

"Oh, you're on, kid. I'll show you old! And we'll see who has to go easy!"

The taunt worked, and they fenced like they were possessed until Vergil called an end to it two hours later. He had to admit to himself that he was impressed—he'd never seen either of them work so hard, all without one complaint about the exercise being a waste of time and without asking for a break.

"C'mon, Uncle Vergil," Dorian said as they pulled their masks off. Both of them were sweaty and, Vergil guessed, more tired than they let on. "We haven't figured out who won yet."

"You can continue your fencing match next week. We've gone through dinner and neither of you have fenced in a long time, so it wouldn't do any good to tire your muscles." It was getting dark, actually, and Vergil's stomach was rumbling so he knew the other two had to be hungry.

They headed for the house together, Dante throwing an arm around his companions' shoulders. Vergil started to tell him off for rubbing his sweat everywhere, but caught Dorian's happy look out of the corner of his eye and shut his mouth.

He sighed instead, glancing over at both of them with a small smile. "How about we order pizza tonight?" It was the one thing they all had in common, really—pizza toppings. It seemed trivial, but every little bit helped.

They looked overjoyed. "Ah, Verg, I could kiss you," Dante said rapturously.

Vergil peeled Dante's arm off of him, ducking away. "Get off. You're not going to kiss me."

Dante, unperturbed, just tightened the arm around Dorian's neck and winked at his son, playfully. "C'mon, you know I'm your favorite little brother."

"My only little brother, thank whatever deity is listening," Vergil muttered in reply, but he knew Dante was aware that he was just teasing. "If I had to put up with two of you, I would have probably died early."

"I wasn't that bad!"

"Oh, sure. You wouldn't sleep in your own bed at all until you were eight."

"I had a lot of bad dreams!" Dante shot back in retaliation. "Besides, you told me you didn't mind!"

"I didn't. You'd keep me awake if you weren't sleeping with someone, anyway," Vergil answered. "Dorian had nightmares too, though he didn't sleep with me very often." Maybe the whole family was prone to nightmares, Vergil thought, but he didn't say.

"You weren't home too much, and my nurse never let me sleep with her. You didn't seem to mind that much," Dorian said. He shrugged his shoulders, unconcerned. He hadn't slept with his uncle for ten years, at least, and he'd been little. What was there to be ashamed about?

They'd all showered, gathered to eat the pizza that Vergil had delivered (thin crust, extra cheese and no olives under any circumstances) and play a game of Scrabble with dinner. Vergil had beaten them both, which didn't really surprise anybody, and he'd endured his brother's taunts about being a walking dictionary without taking the bait. After dinner, they'd gone their separate ways, Dante and Dorian going to watch a movie or something, while Vergil went to the study to catch up on his neglected business.

He left the door open, every so often catching the laughter or snippets of conversation coming from the other room, but he only looked up when Dorian came in. "Did your movie end?"

Dorian nodded, glancing nervously around the study, and Vergil realized he hadn't been in there since he'd been stabbed. "What're you working on? Are you going to take another case?"

"I'm considering it. This one's a private matter, a family nearby. A son and a daughter, both under the age of ten."

Dorian winced. He'd always been more sympathetic to the victims than his uncle—Vergil only wanted the demons gone, and to deal with them, and leave the sympathy to the family and the doctors. "Which one's possessed?" he asked.

Vergil took a deep breath. "The father. If I take the job, I'll probably bring you along. And your father, if he's willing." He didn't usually take private jobs. In the institutions, there were always plenty of ways to restrain the humans while he worked. He didn't get paid well if they were injured, institutions were always reluctant to hire someone who wasn't careful, and demons were notorious for using their host's body to take the damage for them.

Dorian's eyes lit up and Vergil had to hold back a smile. Vergil knew he'd been waiting a long time to hear that he was old enough to go along on a trip. "I hope you decide to take the job."

"I'll think about it," Vergil promised. "You realize that there will be a lot of research and preparation involved. With small children around, there has to be a reason the demon chose the father instead of one of them."

"I'm sure you'll make the right decision. Anyway, I came in to tell you goodnight."

"Goodnight, Dorian. I'll see you tomorrow." Vergil smiled briefly, standing up from his desk to turn around and grab a book from the shelf, flipping through the aged and yellow pages to find something he'd remembered while reading the file.

"And... Uncle Vergil?"

"Yes, Dorian?" Vergil replied without looking up from the book.

"I also wanted to say thanks."

That made Vergil look up, and he frowned at the bookshelf for a second or so before turning his head to glance at his nephew. "For...?"

Dorian shrugged, clearly embarrassed as he stared at the floor. "Everything. I don't know, I just kinda realized I'd never said it and that maybe I should've. Anyway... 'night."

Dorian took off, leaving Vergil to stare after him, bewildered. He'd never expected an actual thank you—it was an odd lesson to learn; gratitude didn't always have to be spoken to be present. Dorian sometimes did unexplainable things like that, and Vergil had given up trying to figure out why. He shook his head, turning back to his book.

"What'd you do to my kid?" he heard from behind him, and he smirked.

"Since he's your son, I don't have to do anything. He's like that without my help."

Dante laughed quietly. "You busy?"

Vergil nodded. "Stay if you like," he added as Dante started to back out of the study. "I could use another opinion on this file I'm looking at." He didn't, actually, but he and his brother had been getting along fairly well since Dante had moved in.

Dante looked excited at the idea and Vergil was glad he offered. "What is it? One of your exorcisms?" he asked, as he dropped down in a chair.

"Not yet. I haven't decided if I'm going to do it—I'm just looking over the material right now." He closed the file and handed it over to Dante. He knew his brother was experienced enough that he didn't have to stand over him and point out the significant parts, so he went back to the book while Dante read.

"It's weird that it'd go after the dad and not the kids," was all Dante said when he'd finished reading. "You think it's a trap?"

"Most demons who stoop to possession aren't quite smart enough to lay out a trap," Vergil replied dryly. "But it is odd. If I took it, you and Dorian would both have the option of coming along. I'd probably need your help; it's not as easy in a home as it is in an institution."

"You know I'm in. You think Dorian's ready?" Dante asked, and Vergil could have sworn he heard a small amount of parental concern in Dante's voice.

"He thinks he's ready. I'd rather take him along with both of us, if I had the option. But he isn't a child anymore, and he'll resent it if we insist on treating him like one."

Dante nodded. It was his son, and something in him didn't want to put the kid in danger before he'd gotten to do anything fun in life, but he understood what Vergil was saying. "So what're you looking for?" he asked, nodding at the book Vergil was still holding.

"Something the demon said. I know I've read it before, I just can't remember where."

Dante frowned. "That's kinda odd for you. You remember everything you've read." He watched his brother silently for a few minutes, then shrugged. "Maybe you'll know after you've slept on it."

"Maybe." Vergil sighed in defeat and pushed the book back onto the shelf before sliding into his seat. Dante was sitting across the desk from him, ankle resting on his knee as he gazed back, obviously studying Vergil for... something. "What is it?" he asked at last, tired of the silent staring contest.

"Just wondering why you'd let Dorian sleep with you when he was little," Dante replied quietly. "You've really changed a lot, Verg. It was one thing when we were both kids, but I never saw you as the paternal type."

And it had been a surprise to Vergil too, when he'd gone home to check up on things and woken up to find the toddler in bed with him. He slept like Dante had, before Dante had learned that Vergil honestly didn't mind—curled into a ball, taking up the least amount of space that he possibly could, and teetering on the edge of the bed. He'd slept like the dead, and it was only when Vergil sat up that he'd noticed the boy's puffy eyes and tear stained face. He'd intended to lecture the boy, explain that he should stay in his own bed, but it had been Dorian's resemblance to Dante that stopped him. So Vergil had sighed, given in and moved Dorian away from the edge. Just a little.

"He was a lot like you," was Vergil's response.

Dante smiled back. "Hey, look," he said suddenly, straightening up. "I came in here because I have something for you. Come upstairs with me."

Vergil stood just inside his room, perplexed but curious as Dante pulled his canvas bag from the closet.

"Stop looking at me like that, I've unpacked," Dante said as he sat the bag down carefully beside his bed. "Get in here, and shut the door. The kid has something in here too, but he doesn't know it yet."

Vergil obeyed, coming closer as Dante began to untie the bag. "What are you going to give Dorian?" he asked.

"Rebellion. I like the sword, but I like the idea of passing it down again, too. And it's not like I don't have plenty more."

And he did. He laid them out on the bed one by one as he pulled them out of the bag. Force Edge. Alastor. Agni and Rudra. Cerberus. Ifrit. Beowulf. Ebony and Ivory, a collection of other arms. He certainly wasn't lacking in weaponry at all.

"Here it is," Dante said at last, and Vergil's breath caught in his throat.

Because his twin held Yamato, was holding it out to him expectantly. Offering it. Vergil hardly dared to move, worried suddenly that this was Dante's disgusting idea of a joke. But even Dante wasn't that cruel; he knew how much their father's sword had meant to him.

Reverently, Vergil touched the hilt, running his hand over it once before taking it from Dante and popping it from its sheath, inspecting every inch of the blade. "I was under the impression that this was broken," was all he could say at first.

"It was," Dante replied. Into about seven pieces, really. "I fixed it." It had been Yamato, in fact, that had brought him out of the drunken depression he'd fallen into.

He'd been wandering the streets, too drunk for any bar to let him in but not wanting to go home. He wished he could get lost. He thought that Lady and Trish were probably right when they said he acted like he had a death wish. He wished it was a little easier to kill him.

He saw the man standing there, off to the side, and he looked more like a demon than a human. Dante smirked, drunkenly; maybe a good fight would make him feel better. But the guy in the overcoat and scarf only nodded at him, grumbled something to himself and said clearly, "Got somethin' for ya, strangah."

He pulled it out of his overcoat, a tattered, grimy piece of gray cloth. "Don't know why, just seems you oughta have it," he explained, and pushed the bundle into Dante's hands. It clanged suspiciously.

Dante pulled a corner open; his breath caught when he realized what it was. But when he looked back up to demand where this man had gotten exactly what Dante had spent so long looking for, he was alone.

"I put it back together, cleaned it, rewrapped the hilt," Dante explained as Vergil looked the weapon over with a critical eye. "It took me a long time but... I don't know, I probably didn't do it quite right."

"You did a good job," Vergil replied, sheathing the sword. "But, Dante..." He knew he didn't deserve it. Dante had done an outstanding job, in fact, maybe better than Vergil could have done. He'd cared for the sword for years, done better than Vergil had when he'd lost it to Mundus. When he'd watched Mundus snap it in half. It was the last thing he remembered before he'd walked out of Hell, when Mundus' control over his mind had broken and he was free to remember it again.

"Don't, Verg," Dante argued. "It's your sword. Our father gave it to you, and it... likes you, don't tell me you can't feel it." It would be a lie to say he didn't. "So just keep it, Verg, I took care of it and kept it for you, and I want you to take it."

He knew Dante was right, that was the problem. And he wanted Yamato back, another problem. In the end, he nodded. "Dante... thank you."

My apologies for taking so long to update! I had a monster under my bed, you see, a giant, demonic (no joke) bunny, and I had to negotiate and befriend him before I could go on. But I found out that his name was Plot Development, and after he went back home (with plenty of chocolate), I was able to work on this again.

No, seriously, real life is so much less fun to deal with than fanfiction.

Anyway, to make it up to you, this is almost 1000 words longer than a normal update! (No updates for a while? Great! Authoress can't shut up!)
In case you were wondering and you caught the reference, yes, that's the Merchant! I needed a convenient character, and at least he's Capcom's!

I hope you all enjoy this, and as always, thanks to all the readers, reviewers, and favoriters! You guys are awesome!