Dear Nero,

You keep asking me "what I'm on about." I'm going to try to tell you.

I'm doing it this way because I've never been good with words. Finding the right words takes time, I have to search, and people don't have much patience with that. It wasn't always this hard, but then things happened to me, a long time ago. Writing is easier than talking.

I asked Shalua to do a paternity test because you and I look so much alike, it seemed impossible that we aren't related somehow. Father and son was the most logical possibility. But she can't tell because of the Jenova in your blood. Officially, we may never know for sure. But I believe it's true.

It wasn't important in Deepground because they just created a breeding program to make warriors. I was never asked if I wanted to take part in it; I don't know if your mother volunteered, or was forced to bear a child. Someone took what they needed from me and used it to help create you. But that's not the usual way to make a child.

Most people have children because they want to - because they want to create a family. It's done in love, not as a science experiment. Most mothers and fathers live together and bring up their children together. Sometimes it doesn't work out well, and a lot of people aren't very good parents, but most people do the best they can.

I told you that being a father meant protection, and caring. I know I never did that for you. If I had known you existed, I would have done everything in my power to get you out of Deepground. Where was I while you were growing up? I spent many years literally asleep, in a kind of stasis, as a result of experiments that were done without my knowledge or consent. I've only been out in the world again for a few years. Sometimes it confuses me too.

You grew up in a strange, cold, clinical place, among people who practiced horrible brutality. Many of them were cruel. No one should ever hurt a child. Ever. I know you had people you cared about, people who cared for you, and that there were people in Deepground who tried to mitigate the bad things. But you were left with a way of life that only works in one place in the world, and that place, that way of life, is no longer viable.

You have a life here now, and you have good things in it: Max, the Turks, Veld. I wanted to be one of the good things. I wanted to be your father in fact as well as blood, to be the person who teaches you, strengthens you, stands behind you or beside you when you need me. That's what a father is for. I guess I wanted to be needed.

I know I don't look it, but I'm the same age as Veld, and a lot of weird things were done to me in those illicit experiments. I'll never have a family. For you to come into my life was a blessing, a gift that I don't deserve. I tried to find a way to be worthy of that, but it seems that all I do is confuse you or upset you. Like wanting to hug you.

Parents hug their children. It's a sign of affection, or a way to comfort. That's all.

Most of the time, I don't want to be touched. I have scars, inside and out. It isn't easy for me to get past that, with anyone but Veld. Holding you makes you more real to me because I keep thinking that I couldn't be that lucky, to have you in my life.

I didn't know that it felt wrong to you. That isn't what I wanted to convey, but I'm not very good at being a dad. I don't know how to say the things that matter most in a way that you'll understand.

It's hard to explain. I just know it hurts like hell to know that I'll never be a part of your family, to find you and then lose you because you don't want or need a father. As long as I know you're alive, and you're doing well, I guess that's all I can ask for.

Please take care of yourself.

Vincent

Well, it was better than Vincent yelling at him. While the letter clarified a few things, Nero was still utterly lost on a few others. Parents and kids were a thing up here, apparently. What that actually involved, Nero was still a bit fuzzy. He'd have to ask Max about it. She'd had a mom and a dad who were around when she was little. She would have been right in the middle of something like what Vincent had described. She would know. How to handle Vincent, however…

There had been guys in his unit who got like this. Not obsessive, per se, but a little more needy and clingy than they ought to be. Anyone in ranks had to possess a certain amount of self-sufficiency, and that covered a lot of territory. As their CO, Nero had been responsible for their well-being, but only to a point. It wasn't his job to babysit them if they were having some sort of personal crisis. Max had hinted that Vincent was "squirrely" and "broody". Nero guessed those were euphemisms for someone who maybe wasn't as mentally balanced as he could have been. It was no good asking Vincent; such a question was only likely to upset him more. There was only one other person he could think of to ask.

Nero had no idea if Veld used the texting feature on his phone. However, he took the incoherent keyboard smash of characters as an affirmative. The smiley face might or might not have been intentional. He supposed he'd find out. It wasn't as if Veld should have a hard time picking him out of the other people taking a break in the coffee shop. He stood out enough.

Veld cleared his afternoon schedule when he received Nero's text. It was likely he'd need more than a few minutes to explain Valentine to Nero. He turned up in the coffee shop as requested, and found Nero sitting in a booth near the back, presumably to be less noticeable both by skittish patrons, and Vincent himself should he happen to wander in.

"Hello, Nero. Let me get coffee and then I'll be happy to answer your questions." He ordered a large - grande, venti, whatever the hell they called it - because explaining Vincent needed a substantial amount of caffeine to fuel his brain.

He slid into the seat opposite Nero, took a sip of the blessedly-hot and strong coffee. "Okay, shoot."

Nero took a moment to mark off another drink on the menu card and tucked pen and menu into his jacket before sliding the letter across the table to Veld.

"I guess it's a good thing that he likes me," Nero began once Veld had had a chance to scan the letter, "but he seems really hell bent on this. I don't dislike him, but I feel like maybe encouraging this might not be the best idea."

He paused, took a sip of his coffee, and decided that white-chocolate-raspberry was a bit too much for even his sweet tooth. Also, it tasted weird with the underlying savory flavor of the coffee.

"Is Vincent..." Nero stalled, trying to remember how Reno had phrased it, "alright upstairs?"

Veld took a few moments to think about that. "Yes and no." He sighed, taking another long sip of coffee, and loosened his tie. Might as well get comfortable.

"Yes, in that there's nothing abnormal about wanting a relationship with his son - assuming you are his son, and it's true that there are enough similarities to seriously consider that possibility. Also - and I won't go into detail here, it's a long story - Vincent lost a son, several years ago. I suspect that's a factor in this situation.

"As he says, most people are close to their children, even after they grow up and move away. It doesn't always work out that way, of course." The smile he gave Nero was a little crooked and sad, but he went on.

"And no, in that he's never been what the world calls 'normal'. Vincent has three other personalities besides the one we know as Vincent. You've met Mask - Hellmasker. He's the troublesome one. There's a very long story behind those experiments Vince mentioned. Suffice it to say that they gave his other personalities independent wills of their own. Keeping them in balance is a thing he does on a daily basis, with varying degrees of success. However, I don't think they have anything to do with his feelings for you.

"I don't know the whole story of what happened to him during the experiments, but I do know he still has nightmares, decades after it happened. So there's that."

He paused for another long sip of coffee. "Any questions before I go on?"

Nero nodded reflectively, fiddling with his coffee cup as he turned the information over in his mind. "I guess not. I knew there was a lot he wasn't telling me, but I didn't feel it was my place to ask. It makes sense he might develop a vicarious attachment to me if he's lost one child already."

Loss was something Nero was all too familiar with. If what Vincent was feeling was anything like what Nero was feeling about being separated from Weiss and Rosso… He suddenly had a much greater appreciation of what Vincent was experiencing.

"I don't know what constitutes a normal parent-child relationship," Nero confessed. "I mean, I've seen what I assume to be parents or at least caretakers with small children. They seem happy enough. I was taken care of by nurses and tutors until I was old enough to be put in ranks. They were nice enough, but I barely remember any of them. Only one or two stand out in my mind, and I don't feel any special attachment to them."

Veld nodded. "That's what I assumed, from what you've told us so far about your life in Deepground. I know that was normal for you, and in both my professional and personal opinion, you've turned out pretty well. Vincent feels the same, even though he expresses anger over the other aspects of your childhood - the Restrictors, especially. He's not angry at you, or blaming you. The rest of it…"

He sighed. "I can't stress enough that children are considered precious. They aren't just assets, or resources, in most places up here. Family is extremely important to us, just as it is to you. And Vincent hasn't got anyone else. There's me, and I won't live forever, while Vincent is likely to be around for a very long time. He's already lost everyone else who mattered to him. I don't know if any of this helps you to understand where he's coming from."

Nero nodded, the look of intense concentration indication that he was doing his best to understand- and didn't. Not completely.

"Weiss and I are brothers," he said slowly, attempting to verbally sort out some equivalent to his own experience. "Half-brothers, anyway. We have different fathers, but the same mother. We were carried by two different surrogates. We're special because not too many people in Deepground share genetics, unless Warden brings in two recruits from the same family. That made Weiss extra important to me, and me to him; an extra degree of closeness that neither of us had with Rosso."

"Okay, that's not much different from some surface families," said Veld. "Couples may split up, or a parent will die. People pair up with someone else, maybe have more kids, and create a blended family. Sometimes, family means people who came together in some other way, but they love and support each other regardless of the absence of blood ties. It all comes down to family, Nero. And I think that's a basis for understanding, whether you were born in Deepground or here on the surface. Does that make sense?"

"Kind of," Nero hedged in a tone that said all too clearly that it didn't. "I could see if he had a soft spot for me, or was happy to see me again. Mostly he just seems sad and angry. Granted, that's apparently his default setting, but….moreso when it comes to me. I swear to gods I am not trying to piss him off, but I keep doing so without meaning to."

"Nero, it's not you. He's not angry at you. He's having a hard time getting past what the Restrictors did to you. Shelke told us about them removing your respirator as punishment. Imagine how you feel when someone hurts your siblings. That's how Vincent felt about you being hurt. Why do you feel that he's pissed off at you? Am I missing something?"

"Every time I try to talk to him, he either shuts down, or blows up in my face," Nero sighed. "Either that or he gets all weepy and melancholy. Maybe he's not angry at me personally, but I'm in front of him when he gets angry. I don't care if he shouts at me," this was a lie, and a bad one, "but I'd like to be able to avoid upsetting him if at all possible."

Nero heaved a deep breath, his mask rasping musically. "I know how to manage people who...don't live on Gaia all the time." That was another line from Reno. "If that's how I need to treat Vincent, just tell me."

The coffee, Veld decided, wasn't nearly strong enough for this. "He shuts down because he doesn't know how to tell you what he's feeling. I'm familiar with that one, but I can get around it by virtue of the fact we share a bed. I'm not sure why he blows up. Can you give me an example, even a generic one?"

"Mostly when I try to tell him about Deepground. I get that he doesn't like it." No he didn't. "He'll ask me things about myself, and when he doesn't like the answer…" Nero barely repressed a shudder. Having the right answer was something he'd always had hanging over his head. Maybe Vincent wouldn't take it out of his hide or anyone else's, but the shouting still frightened him more than Nero was willing to admit.

"Okay, well, that's an easy fix. Don't tell him any more about it. If you want to talk about those things - if you need to - come talk to me. I promise I won't blow up at you. Or you can speak to the Turks, they don't get upset easily. There's always Cissnei, too. It's her job to listen to you vent, without judging you or your past."

Veld hesitated, not wanting to ask the question that came to mind, but he had to be fair to Nero. "Do you want me to tell him to stay away from you?"

"No," the response was immediate, automatic. "Like I said, I don't dislike him. He seems cool, but wound a little tight. Also, I wasn't sure how far I should let him go with this."

Nero looked at the table top, fidgeted slightly where he sat. "I'm not… I've never…" He heaved a familiar, frustrated sigh though it wheezed through his mask in disjointed notes like a harmonica.

"I can't fake something I don't know anything about," Nero admitted, voice so low it was barely detectable over the white noise of coffee shop chatter. "I don't know how to be a son. I don't know what he expects of me. I just…"

Shelke's words echoed in the back of Veld's mind:

"Nero was special. Is special. They never repeated the dark mako experiment for a reason: he was too powerful for them to control physically. Even with the microchips...we might not have been able to escape the borders of Deepground, but I truly believe Nero could have taken down the Restrictors himself if they'd let him think he could do it. I suspect that's why they were hardest on him. It's not that he slipped up so much as he could never do anything right. Even as a kid, I could see him being set up to fail. The Restrictors did that on purpose."

If Nero thought Vincent was intentionally setting him up to fail… Veld heaved a sigh of his own. If ever there was an argument for Vincent and Nero being father and son, this would be it.

"All right then, that makes you even. Vincent tells me he doesn't know how to be a father, but it's clear he's determined to try. As he says in the letter, he wanted to do the things that fathers usually do for their sons: Guide you, protect you, and so on. The thing is, you're an adult. You don't need him to hold your hand. He's afraid that he's failed you."

Veld met Nero's worried eyes. "Don't let that scare you. I'm not suggesting you do everything his way. If you think you can handle him the way you did with people in Deepground, go ahead. And if you don't want him to know that you talked with me about this, that's fine. I promise I won't let him know that I've seen this letter."

"I...would appreciate that, Sir," Nero said. "I think… I think I know how to proceed now. I can try, anyway. If it doesn't work, well," the rueful smile was evident despite the mask, "I imagine you'll hear about it."