Disclaimer: I don't own the Devil May Cry franchise nor the characters.
WARNING: THIS CONTAINS SPOILER FOR VERGIL'S ENDING CUTSCENE IN DEVIL MAY CRY 4: SPECIAL EDITION. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.
"You're a real fucking class act, you know that? Is this how you thank people? By punching them in the face and effectively breaking their nose?"
Dante, was splayed across Nero's cramped sofa, nursing a bloody nose, grimacing from the possible concussion, a product of his prick of a brother's roid rage; while Vergil occupied the sofa opposite of Dante, wrapped in nothing but a milk-coloured bedsheet, sipping Jasmine Green Tea from a cup with saucer. The original occupants of the house decided to take a hike and let the two brothers have some privacy, but not without making the Sparda twins swear on their father's grave that the house will be just as it was before Nero and Kyrie left. Naturally, the descendants of the Legendary Dark Knight begrudgingly promised, accompanied by some grumbling from both brothers. The elder twin even went as far as asking Nero if the young man required a blood pact to seal the promise. Asshole.
"Last I recall, dear brother, you did nothing but whine and make inappropriate assumptions on my person. I consider it kindness that I merely broke your nose as opposed to breaking off your dominant arm and slapping you with it for your impertinence. I also haven't forgotten that childish prank you pulled, interrupting my much-needed rest. Have you no sympathy for your older brother's poor health?"
The eldest retorted, placing the cup of tea on the coffee table. Vergil knew today was going to be one hell of a long day, seeing how he has much explaining to do. He was thankful that the young man named Nero offered to allow the two to have a proper family reunion before other matters proceed. Matters such as the loss of a certain someone's Devil Bringer and how he, by "happenstance" appeared out of bum fuck nowhere, unconscious and butt naked, sprawled on the bathroom floor one fine day when said certain someone was going about his morning routine.
"Fuck off, prima donna. You damn near gave Kyrie and the kid a heart attack showing up unannounced like that. The hell do you want from the kid, hmm? You ever thought about how much of a pain the ass you are to everyone around you?"
The younger twin was fuming, all the pent-up rage since Temen-Ni-Gru up to Mallet Island, surfacing like tidal waves of an approaching tsunami, each current mightier, higher, and more destructive, till nothing is left in its path. The demon hunter was tired of making excuses for his brother's action, tired of blaming himself for losing his remaining family member, but most importantly, Dante was tired of fighting with his brother; a brother who has a massive tree trunk shoved in him where the sun doesn't shine, a brother who has liquid nitrogen pumping through his system instead of blood, a power-hungry, megalomaniac who's hell-bent on claiming their father's shitty power. Even though many times Dante felt the need repeatedly shoot Vergil in the dick for being a MASSIVE dick, the more human part of the red devil just yearned for his brother's approval and affection, and Dante felt like he was a child once more, reminiscing the days when the two would play together, simpler times when mother was still alive and they needn't concern themselves with surviving demon attacks.
His usually aloof brother cringed, a minute gesture, but Dante caught it nevertheless. The younger son of Sparda found himself shocked for the first time since a long while, to see the brief hurt and miniscule flinch that Vergil actually displayed. Clearly what he said had hit a nerve or several, with the older twin, and Dante felt bad for making Vergil feel bad. Christ, he just can't win when it comes to Vergil.
The Cerulean devil was silent. He cast his eyes on the coffee table, suddenly finding intense interest in its design. He couldn't mask the sudden onset of emotion, for he was done playing the role of the misunderstood martyr. Granted, his actions during the Temen-Ni-Gru fiasco was genuinely fucked up, but he had his reasons, twisted as they may be, he had hoped that through acquiring the power of Sparda, he could finally avenge the death of his mother and protect Dante from any demon attacks. He knew he deserved the tortures under Mundus, his brainwash and subsequent defeat once more at the hands of his idiotic brother on Mallet Island. He did not expect to be forgiven quickly, if not at all, but he hoped that he would be given the chance to set the records straight.
"I shall not attempt to convey the remorse I feel for my past actions, because simply put, I am not remorseful nor will I ever be. I am well-aware that you, of all people, will never comprehend why I did the things I did, however I will say this: my only regret was failing in my undertakings, and for that, I have paid my dues during a period of my life that I am not keen in divulging. I may have caused immeasurable grievances to humans, including the boy and yourself, but I believe I have served my penance by continuing our father's legacy of protecting the human realm from demon attacks when I could have just rested idly while watching you and the boy's effort go in vain."
Dante laughed. Hard. He couldn't believe what his delusional brother was sprouting. He knew dude's not all there in the head, but this takes the proverbial icing on the cake. HAH! Vergil, 'protecting' humans? The younger twin was used to being called stupid and everything that is synonymous to the word, but even Dante wasn't THAT naïve. The demon hunter took a solid five minutes for his laughing fit to abate before he could speak or breathe.
"God, Verge—ahah, did you hit your head hard on Nero's bathroom floor or something? What gorilla shit are you talking about? I'm sober you know, so however you spin this crap won't even fool me when I'm piss drunk. I'm not completely stupid bro, contrary to what you believe. Why don't you just cut to the chase for once and tell me what I need to hear before I beat it out of you."
"If you would kindly stop your drivel for a moment I would be more than happy to explain!" The blue twin snapped. Vergil's patience was beginning to wear thin. He pinched his nose bridge, eyes snapped shut, trying to delay what he knew would be the inevitable advent of the mother-of-all migraines; he had hoped to at least provide some sort of clarification before he retires for a much-needed rest.
"Okay, Verge. Shoot. Cause if you don't, I will. And I don't mean figuratively,"
The red-clad demon hunter crudely placed his feet on the coffee table between the two of them and crossed his feet, making himself comfortable for the big 'reveal'. Oh man, this was gonna be good!
The other twin only rolled his eyes and shook his head disapprovingly at the immature gesture.
"Did the boy tell you how he managed to repair the Yamato?"
Dante shook his head, and indicated for his brother to go on.
"It was only possible because I aided him in the endeavour. It took a monumental toll on me, which was why I couldn't restore myself to my physical being. I was bidding my time, recuperating, close to finally finish repairing my body, however I sensed the boy in trouble, and I couldn't let my host die, not when I was nearing to completing the task. Besides, Yamato is my birthright, just as Rebellion is yours, I would not, under any circumstance, allow it to fall into unworthy hands."
"Okay, but that still doesn't explain how you ended up a poltergeist and possessed the poor kid's hand."
"I never told you this, but prior to our 'heart-warming family reunion' on top of Temen-Ni-Gru, I encountered Fortuna City and The Order of the Sword while searching for the means to break Temen-Ni-Gru's seals. It was there I found out that The Order had other veiled agendas besides eradicating demons and worshipping our father when I hinted to one of the high-ranking scientist serving in The Order that I may have some relation to Sparda. Unsurprisingly, the man opened himself and his research to me in return for unknown knowledge of Sparda and his power—"
"So it was you who started all this hoo-ha. Man, why do you ALWAYS have to cause shit wherever you go?" The red twin exasperated.
"They would have found out other means to harness demonic powers and bind it to themselves, with or without my contribution, Dante. Arkham was a prime example. I merely showed the scientist some of my abilities, nothing more. It was to earn the trust of The Order, so that I could have a closer look at their activities. When I deemed they weren't threats, I merely left, but not before I formulate a contingency arrangement in the events they became a menace to my plans to acquire our father's power.
I can't say that I fault them in their foolish efforts, might, after all, controls everything. But I did recall vowing they would experience something more than just the power of Sparda; they will encounter something stronger, the power of a son of Sparda. Indubitably, what I said did come to fruition, as their arrangements were thwarted when I decided to lend my power to Nero."
The room was soundless like a vacuum, and neither half-breed seemed to be backing down from the immense tension in the house. The tea had grown cold, long-forgotten, while Dante removed his feet from the coffee table and straightened up.
"So… Nero's really not your son?"
"Wha— Did you not hear a single word I've said to you? All right you half-witted buffoon, I'm going to spell it out for you: I merely 'borrowed' Nero so that I may recover from our little fight on Mallet Island. Is that clear enough for your brain to digest, dear brother?"
Vergil had to restrain himself from summoning his swords and nailing Dante right smack on the wall. In fact, the tired demon slayer actually saw a spot in the house that Dante would fit right in among the kid's strange collections of weird demonic artifacts that he had accumulated.
The younger twin's mouth slackened, wondering whether Vergil's words were gospel truth or utter rubbish. Vergil's account may have crushed Dante's assumptions about Nero, but the mystery behind how Vergil ended up in the punk's hand isn't exactly solved. Dante had every intention of egging his evil twin into spilling the beans, but his brother looked like he was about to keel over and die if the interrogation session were to continue. As if reading Dante's thoughts, the older twin gingerly shifted his body to a sleeping position on the couch, one hand steadfastly gripping on the bedsheets wrapping his body while the other busied itself with rubbing his temple in circular motion, his eyes glued shut.
Dante sighed, seeing the sorry state of his brother made him pity the poor man who just went to hell and back(literally). The younger twin got up from where he was sitting and moved towards the now unconscious brother. As gentle as a mother with her newborn baby, the red half-breed carefully scooped the bundle of epitome of bad news into his arms bridal-style, slowly made his way to the guest room to deposit the sleeping sack of evil onto the bed lest he wakes up cranky and decides to raise hell because his beauty sleep was disrupted.
After making sure that Vergil's room was as light and sound proof as possible, the red-clad demon hunter proceeded to exit the room.
"Welcome back, bro," Dante whispered, before closing the door softly. Mentally exhausted, emotionally drained, the younger son of Sparda sat back down on his seat, and waited for the original occupants of the house to return so he could ask for a beer; Lord knows he needed one.
Author's Note: Just finished the game and immediately penned this down because my brain refused to let me sleep until I finished this(I'M SO GLAD MY SUSPICIONS SINCE THE ORIGINAL DMC4 IS CONFIRMED IN THIS GAME). Please do forgive me if the chapter wasn't as well-written, it was about 3am when I began writing this. The next chapter will explain in detail how Nero got his arm. Gah… anyways, I hope you enjoyed the fic, as usual, please feel free to drop a review if you want to. Thank you for reading!