Dante didn't usually have trouble sleeping. He'd been through that more times than he cared to admit, even to himself. But tonight, he couldn't keep his eyes closed. He had too much to think about.

He'd returned Yamato to Vergil, which was something he never thought he'd be able to do. Vergil had almost accepted it without saying that he didn't deserve it, which was something he never thought would happen. He'd met his son, someone he'd never expected to even exist.

And okay, maybe the son didn't feel exactly like a son—not that Dante knew what fatherhood was supposed to feel like. His father was dead by the time he was old enough to think about that kind of thing. Vergil had stepped in, but Vergil wasn't his father, no matter how much he'd tried to fill that role.

Dante remembered watching Vergil, his onetime playmate and best friend, drowning in a position he wasn't ready to fill. He'd tried so hard, and he'd failed, and Dante hated his father for that. Vergil shouldn't have had to try. And Dante would have to be completely stupid to miss the fact that his brother was still trying.

He gave up on even pretending to sleep, and kicked the blankets off of his legs to sit up. A quick glance at the clock told him it was almost 5am. No point in even trying, then. A nice, long shower would probably be better at this point than a couple hours of sleep. He'd just be groggy and he needed to be sharp today. They had a full one planned.

Something rattled. Dante froze, slowly backing out of the closet and heading noiselessly to the bedside table where his handgun was resting. Ebony in hand, he headed for the door. He could still hear the rustling, but couldn't quite identify its source. He figured it probably wasn't any of Vergil's household staff; he'd gotten used to the noises they made.

Dorian was still asleep. His door, across from Dante's, was still shut and if he stood still and listened, he could hear his son's even breathing.

The noise was coming from Vergil's room. Dante moved on, confused now. He might have been able to hear things that ordinary people couldn't thanks to his demon heritage, but Vergil had the market cornered on that. He should've already been awake.

Confused, Dante let the handgun dangle at his side as his hand hovered over the doorknob. This wasn't right. It sounded like Vergil was in real trouble, and Dante didn't think anyone else was in the room....

He opened the door.

Vergil was asleep, alone. He was frowning, mumbling and tossing. A nightmare. It figured, Dante thought sourly. He'd chased down a fucking bad dream. Having his handgun on him now seemed a little stupid, not heroic.

"Dante!"

His head jerked up. Vergil was still sleeping, but still, he couldn't stop the answer before it came out. "Verg?"

His twin's eyes popped open immediately. He was gasping, but alert as he took in Dante's relaxed stance. His eyes settled on Ebony, held loosely in his right hand, before dropping to his bare feet and moving back up.

"Sorry, I thought you were in trouble... are you okay? You look like shit."

Vergil didn't answer right away. Dante was going to leave, but he noticed the cold sweat on his brother's forehead and something kept him locked to the spot. He wasn't going to leave until Vergil answered the question, not this time. "Vergil!"

"For God's sake, Dante, shut the door before Dorian sees."

Dante had dropped Ebony on Vergil's table and settled on the edge of his bed a while ago, for the moment just fine with watching his brother try to collect himself. It'd been too long since he'd had the opportunity to just sit with Vergil, without arguing or fighting or even having to talk, really. And today, he was going to sit there without arguing or fighting or having to talk until he got Vergil to tell him what the living hell was going on.

"This has to do with Nelo Angelo, doesn't it?" he blurted.

Well, so much for his genius plan. His big mouth ruined that. Oh well, no taking it back now.

Vergil studied him, obviously debating on whether or not he wanted to say something. "Yes," he said at last. Apparently, Dante had proven himself trustworthy. "I appreciate that you didn't mention... my past to Dorian yesterday. I would prefer to keep it that way. Nobody in this house knows anything."

"He's never even heard the name?"

Vergil shrugged. "He's heard it. He hasn't made the connection. Dorian believes that I'm one of the good guys, you know. More your style than mine."

"Don't you think that it'd help if you talked about it? I don't ever remember seeing you like this, Verg. It's not right."

"I can't talk about it."

"Goddamn it, Vergil! You're a real piece of work, you know that? I'm trying to be nice here, but I'm beginning to wonder if it's not just a waste of time!" Dante snapped. "I'm sick and fucking tired of your bullshit."

"Keep your voice down, Dante. I can't talk about it because I can't remember anything."

Dante, for once, took his own advice and kept his mouth shut. He glared at his brother, this time determined to keep his stony silence until Vergil cut the shit.

"Don't look at me like that. The last thing I remember is Mundus snapping Yamato into pieces. I don't know how long I was there, I can't remember exactly when I started fighting the control Mundus had over my mind. When I sleep, I dream about it, and it's always about you and how we fought back then and what was going through my head. That's all I remember. I was going to kill you and then, 'Dante, let's play King Arthur.' It's an insignificant detail, but that's it."

Dante smiled a little. Finally, progress. It'd been too tense lately, and it was about time Vergil said something to somebody. "You always wanted to be Merlin," he remembered, grinning. "All brains, fighting from the background."

"You enjoyed the physical fighting more than I did," Vergil answered. He stared at his bedspread, too lost in thought to meet Dante's eyes. "You probably always will. That suits you." He was quiet for a few minutes, then kept talking. "I suppose that makes me lucky. You didn't kill Mundus—I'm not sure that's possible—but you weakened him enough for me to remember who I was. I should thank you for that."

"Only doing what I should've done," Dante replied, a little embarrassed at the uncharacteristic statement from his brother. Vergil must have slept like shit, too. "You think he could still control you?"

Vergil thought about that for a bit before answering. "I don't know," he said at last. "I can remember every minute of every day since then. I don't think I'd be able to remember it if he were controlling me."

"I don't think he will," Dante continued. "Mundus would know you'd be expecting it. You've always been too smart to fall for the same trick twice. And you were in Hell for seven years, by the way. Before I saw you as Nelo Angelo, anyway."

"Seven years."

They were silent after that. The sun was starting to rise and light was streaking into Vergil's bedroom. Dante knew that before long, Dorian would be awake, so he should be leaving, but he was feeling more like his brother's friend than he had since they were seven or eight years old.

"Can I have Dorian today?"

"He's your son," Vergil replied, frowning. "You don't have to ask."

"Yeah, maybe, but I'm pretty sure you still have legal custody, don't you? Besides, you're all into training... I wanna have some fun."

"Like I said... he's your son. It's a good idea for you to bond. It's good for him to hang out with you; you had no idea how much he wanted to know you when he was younger."

"I can't change the past, Verg."

"I know. Anyway, he's happier with you around. But he's also scared you'll leave again."

Now it was Dante's turn to stare at the bedspread. It was his chance to be better than his own father—given the opportunity to leave, Dante would stay. "That... isn't in my plan. It's hard to imagine myself as a dad, but every day I stay it's harder to imagine going back to the way things were."

"Take it from me, Dante, there is no going back to the way things were. Even if you walked out the door, you wouldn't be able to forget that you have a son who is living with your estranged brother."

"Estranged?" Dante murmured. "I don't think we're estranged anymore."

He looked up just in time to catch the barest hint of a smile grace Vergil's lips before his brother stood up, turning his back on Dante. "I'm going to take a shower. I suggest you do the same. We'll have breakfast, and then you go have fun with your son. What do you plan on doing with him?"

Dante grinned, reaching to grab Ebony and twirl it around in his hand. "I'm gonna teach him how to drive."

Vergil nodded. "There are cars in the garage. You can take your pick."

"That's no fun," Dante answered as he stood to leave, his hand on the doorknob.

"Then what do you plan to use?"

"My bike. You have a nice shower, Verg."

Sorry. Just... I'm sorry.