The end of the semester kicked my ass, but I'm back finally. Here are some words.

Benches were hell on the spine. If not for the snow, the ground would have been preferable. Despite how much my back ached, though, I could have slept another two days or so. The only thing keeping me from achieving that dream was the bench rattling under me each time Lady slammed her boot against it. "Wake up, Dante," she barked. "Can't you be where you say you're going to for once in your damn life?"

"Don't bother the poor homeless man, Lady," Trish said. "Look at how tired he is."

"He dragged us out here, and if we don't get to sleep, neither does he."

"Good morning to you too," I said as I squinted into the sun. The damn light was blinding reflecting off the snow. I'd dusted off the park bench before passing out on it, but the snow must have fallen some more while I was asleep because I had an extra frosty layer on my coat. A few flakes clung to my eyelashes until I rubbed them away under a heavy hand.

"Did you find your brother?" Trish asked.

With a sigh, I sat up to stretch the knots from my back. "Sort of. How could you tell?"

"The young lady at the house said you went after him." Her eyes flicked over me. "You also changed clothes. I hope you did that at the house."

My eyes darted to their corners, giving me away in an instant. Lady gave a disgusted huff. "Well, no one was around!" I said. "And my shirt could only take so much damage. Thanks for the change of clothes, anyway." I tossed a lazy hand toward the duffel bag, where I'd stuffed my bloody shirt and pants. They were beyond repair, stained and torn. I needed a place to throw them out.

"I'm not going to bring you any more if you're going to strip in public," Lady said. "So what happened with Vergil? You got your ass kicked?"

I shrugged. "Not totally kicked. He did stab me."

"Is this supposed to be news? That's all Vergil does."

My mouth opened a few times as I tried to grasp a rebuttal, but no, she was right. That had historically been the case with Vergil. "But there's something weird about him," I said. "It's like he's got…" My hands flailed in a vain attempt to grasp an explanation. "Emotions?"

Lady's brows shot up from behind her sunglasses. "Other than smug?"

"Well, that's still the main one."

"Explain," Trish said over me. "What happened?"

As I fished Rebellion out from under the bench, I tried to think of what exactly had happened with Vergil. "Not the easiest question to answer," I muttered. "Did Kyrie tell you anything?"

The way Trish's lip twitched let me know I'd made a mistake. "No, but she seems to be under the impression that we'll be doing an exorcism. Do you want to keep stalling so I can tell you off for that, or would you like to get back to that explanation?"

To my credit, I didn't remember telling Kyrie anything about an exorcism. She'd jumped to that conclusion herself, but I didn't need to be chewed out about it. I already knew I'd pulled a dick move there. "Alright, where to begin?" I said as I hopped to my feet. My explanation was fragmented from the bits I could remember of what Vergil had said and the parts I was willing to share. They didn't need to hear everything. I was certain they knew I was leaving things out, but Vergil had a way of cutting me down to the bone and dragging out truths I didn't want to hear.

This wasn't about me, and anything Vergil had to say about me didn't matter. This was about the kid.

"He said he shouldn't care." That part I couldn't get out of my head. I rarely saw Vergil look so open with his feelings, so confused and fearful. The emotions looked just as strange on Nero's face. "And that was when he stabbed me and ran off. Kind of rude, really."

"Yeah, he could have at least put you out of your misery," Lady said. "So what's the deal? Vergil doesn't know how to handle his newfound feelings?"

"Vergil has feelings."

Both girls shot me such dry looks that I could feel them even from behind the sunglasses.

"Well, he feels things sometimes," I qualified, "but caring is not usually one of those." But then, that wasn't quite right either. Vergil cared about all sorts of things, not the right things, but he sure as hell cared. None of that matched up to the way he'd been acting. No big rants about power, and he hadn't even really tried to kill me.

Lady's eyes must have been flicking off in search of something because she leaned to one side like when she was battling a thought. "From what I've heard, the kid seemed like he had too many emotions," she said, "so maybe some just bled onto Vergil."

I blinked. "Is that a joke?"

At Lady's shrug, I realized that neither of us knew. "But it does make some sense," Trish cut in, looking far too calm for her words. "If the two are entirely interconnected, their thoughts and feelings could resonate."

Nothing about that sounded good, and I found myself scanning the treeline around us for some sign of Vergil. If I could just talk to him again, if I could just get some straight answers for once, well, it wouldn't change anything, but at least I would understand.

The forest was a wall of green and white, thick with firs and snow. No sign of anyone, demon or otherwise. They were certainly lurking, though. "You think Vergil and Nero are turning into one person?" I asked. That might have been the worst outcome I could imagine.

"Not exactly," Trish said. "They're still two people, but if you're around someone long enough, you'll start picking up their speaking habits, yes? Even if Vergil were unconscious all those years he shared Nero's being, he would no-doubt be influenced by Nero, perhaps like hearing an outside voice in your dreams. I doubt Vergil can understand this himself, but who wants to protect Fortuna more than Nero? Why kill the demons here if not to that end?"

Vergil had said it was for practice, but he could practice anywhere. He shouldn't have wanted to stay on this island, not with me hanging around. Trish's explanation couldn't have been right, though, because if Vergil started acting like Nero, it would have been so bad for my health that there was no way I would have made it out alive.

"No, I think he's just stalling for some reason," I decided, shaking my head. "He may not have full control yet. Besides, even if Vergil were starting to act more like a pain-in-the-ass teen again, that wouldn't make him suddenly pretend to care about Nero's wellbeing. If I have to hear about how Nero isn't suffering one more goddamn time..." I cut myself off with a growl. My heart started hammering behind my eyes at the thought. Every time Vergil acted like he wasn't the one doing Nero any harm, like he was owed the kid's life and was some kind of savior, I wanted to knock some sense into that damn thick skull of his.

"Now don't take this how you're going to take this," Lady said as she removed her sunglasses just to stare me down. "But how much has Vergil actually physically harmed Nero?"

Her eyes insisted that I think things over before I snapped any response. Keeping myself from biting back was like strangling myself with a cord. "What do you mean?" I managed with an edge of tension.

"Well, you said Nero stabbed himself, gave himself an allergic reaction, fell off a building…" She counted each offense off on her fingers. "But what did Vergil do? Punched him the one time maybe? I might have punched the kid too in that situation. It just doesn't sound like Vergil did that much damage."

"So he was looking after the body he wanted," I said, tossing my hands up. "Ew. I hate saying that. You know, Lady, I never took you for the type to vouch for my brother."

Her boot slammed onto the bench again. "Your brother is welcome to my foot shoved up his ass any day." And judging by the look she was giving me, so was I.

A peacekeeping yet threatening smile eased onto Trish's face as she stepped between us. "As much fun as it is theorizing over how the parasite cares for its host," she said, "we'd have more luck asking Vergil directly. I know you want to stall, Dante, but standing around does us little good."

With the haze of sleep fading from my mind, I managed one of my usual dramatic sighs. "I'm pretty sure you two were the ones who started this whole tangent, but sure, blame it on me." She was right, though. I didn't want to go face Vergil again, not until I had some solution. Besides, my chest still ached with each breath. I hadn't had enough to eat for my healing to bother fixing me up within a few hours.

"We're really just going to go talk to Vergil?" Lady asked as she shouldered her rocket launcher. I had no idea how she carried that through town in broad daylight without anyone freaking out. "Getting his side of the story doesn't really do us any good if he's still in possession of Nero. Either we find a way to get the kid his body back, or I'm putting him out of his misery. We can't just let Vergil go off into the world as he pleases."

She was looking at me. Waiting. Like she'd asked a question that needed answering.

Well, she hadn't said it out loud, but I heard the question loud and clear.

"I know," I said. "I'm not going to let Vergil go, but I haven't given up on Nero yet, and we can't just kill them both. Not if there's still…" But I couldn't bring myself to finish the thought. What was there? A chance? Another option? I couldn't find any.

I just needed to talk to Vergil again - the same thing I'd told myself already, and it got me nowhere.

Once more with feeling, then. Fourth time's the charm.

"Before we go," Trish said as I grabbed the bag and dusted snow from it. "Tell me, Dante. Your brother, have you given up on him?"

"I made peace with Vergil's death a long time ago," I said like that wasn't the biggest damn lie I'd ever told. It might have been more convincing if I could have looked either of them in the eye, but I had to keep my sights on the trees. "He made his decisions. I'm in this to save Nero. Whatever it takes to get the kid back is what I'll do."

I could feel the girls looking at each other behind my back. They didn't believe me, and I didn't blame them. The words sounded nice out loud, nice enough that I hoped I could convince myself with them.

The demons were still lurking around when we headed into the forest. Without Vergil carving a path ahead of me, I found even more of the bastards than before. "I think we would cover more ground if we split up," Trish said after blasting open what I guessed was the head of one of the weird plant bastards.

"That sounds like something you say right before we all die," I said. Another one tried to latch onto one of the patchwork things, so I shot them both to pieces.

"The three of us together are attracting a lot of demons." She brought one gun to rest against her shoulder, the other on her cocked hip. "We'll move easier separate."

"Then do we need a signal in case I need to come rescue someone?" I asked with a feigned bow.

"Or for if we find Vergil?" Lady added.

Despite all of us agreeing that it was a good idea, no one could think of much of a signal, so it just came down to "yell if you're about to die, and maybe someone will come get you." Trish took the west side of the forest, Lady the east, and that left me with the north. Besides the demons and the occasional cliffside, there wasn't much to see. Trudging through cold forests was getting to be an odd habit of mine.

My eye did catch some shimmering black stones among the soggy, dead leaves and pine needles. Alright, truthfully, I only noticed after I had to yank a few out of the soles of my boots. Like obsidian, they were jagged and sharp as glass. Once I started looking, I found the things everywhere, all ready to mess up my perfectly good boots.

My only other interesting find was a weird bird perched in the branches of a bare tree like it was a recliner. It seemed asleep until I stepped close and an eye snapped open. "I wish you wouldn't have brought the women along," it grumbled. "They're difficult."

"That's not the pretty morning tweeting I was expecting," I called. "Did you get stuck up there, or are you making some bird friends?"

Vergil still couldn't hide his exhaustion enough to manage a proper glare. "Well, I wasn't going to rest on the ground, now was I? So you're back again. Do you have some new revelation, or are you just here to pester me?"

"Pestering you is all I know how to do."

"I'm aware."

We weren't going to get far with me having to yell up at him. As much fun as climbing the tree after him sounded, I wasn't as light as Nero, and those branches wouldn't hold two. I needed to drag him down somehow.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. "I'm starved, and I'll bet the kid has one hell of a metabolism." Unless Vergil had been scavenging in the forest, the last time either of us ate would have been yesterday afternoon. My stomach was happy to remind me with stabbing pangs and bouts of nausea.

"I can eat once this issue has been taken care of," Vergil said. At the rate the demons were appearing, that would be a few days even with his summon swords.

"All that work to take over, and you won't even take care of his body," I said as Vergil took a few light steps down the branches like some dainty girl descending a staircase. "You've already run the kid ragged fighting demons all night. Let him eat. I'll even make you something."

"That sounds like a threat." He dropped to the ground two paces away, a stumble marring his attempt at the cat-like landing. No matter what he said, he still didn't have a hang of movement yet. "As I've said," he continued in an attempt to cover up his mistake, "the boy isn't troubled by anything. And what good would it do for us to have breakfast? Are you going to try pretending that you're alright with the situation now? Going to try to make the best of it? I don't care to do any catching up for old time's sake. I'd rather we never meet again."

He was starting to sound more like the Vergil I knew, and I couldn't decide whether that was a good thing. When he crossed his arms, I found myself doing the same.

"I don't remember saying I was alright with any of this." There was something entertaining about having him shorter than me so that I could lean over him. I'd never been able to do that before. Vergil and I were always the same height. The venom in his eyes as he looked up at me was even more entertaining. "And I know it's been a while since you had a body, but things like food are kind of important. We can just sit down somewhere with indoor heating, and talk and not try to kill each other. It's a pretty novel idea, I think."

"Is this that date you wanted?" he spat.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb. You asked me on a date before. Disgusting."

After a few blinks, my eyes shot wide. "Fuck, I forgot about that."

His shoulders bunched by his ears. "I wish I could forget your idiocies so easily. It must be nice to be you."

"It's not like I knew who I was asking on a date. I thought you were just some random demon."

His brow pinched, eyes thinning in bafflement. "Don't ask strange demons to dinner."

"I'm glad you've decided to care about my dating life. It really warms my heart, Verge."

He started to raise that glowing hand of his, probably to pull Yamato, but I almost expected him to flip me off like the kid. A strange whining growl cut through the air and froze him in place.

"Was that your stomach or mine?" I asked. "I think it was yours."

"It was not," he huffed. His cheeks turned a shade of pink, a trait he'd definitely gotten from the kid. Damn. I couldn't remember seeing Vergil blush since we were both kids. He still turned his face to the side with the same pout.

A laugh escaped me in a breath. "Come on, let's call a truce for now and get some food."

His expression remained the same, face turned away and eyes off among the trees. "Only if the women are not involved," he said.

I hadn't expected him to agree, but it was a nice surprise. A grin flashed onto my face. "I'd like to keep my head, so it'll be our secret. Just us."

With a satisfied nod, his eyes snapped back to me. "And you're paying."

"Aw, we can't go to the house where the food is free?" My wallet was already suffering enough.

"No, if Kyrie is there, it would be troublesome."

Hearing him use her name was weird. I'd expected her to always be "the girl." Vergil was never all that flattering to others.

"Where do you want to go then?" I asked.

"I know of a place."

Also weird.

He led us back out through the forest, tracing the edge of town until we reached a diner that had seen better days. The place must have been someone's house at one point because it had a screen door that Vergil slipped past with a practiced ease.

When I tried, the door swung in faster than I'd expected and smacked me in the back. "Do you come here often?" I asked as Vergil ruffled the snow from his hair.

"No, but-"

"Nero!" came a bark from the kitchen. "So you are alive." A scruffy-looking kid about Nero's age pushed past the swinging doors and plopped down to lean over the counter. "Everyone's been saying you died."

"You shouldn't believe rumors," Vergil said.

"There's nothing else to do," the guy grumbled. "What are you doing in your uniform? Haven't seen you in that in a long time."

The pause was too long not to feel awkward. Vergil must not have planned to answer questions. I would have expected him to just brush the guy off, insult him or demand our food. But Vergil took a seat at one of the barstools with a quiet, "I was out of clothes."

The guy barked a laugh. "Just do your laundry. This guy with you?" He tossed a hand my way. "Is that the one who shot His Holiness?"

With his legs crossed and his fingers laced in front of him, Vergil looked nothing like the kid he was impersonating. "Will you still serve us if I say yes?"

"As long as I'm getting paid, sure. He's not blackmailing you or anything, is he? You're acting weird."

Vergil's shoulders tensed. "He's… a friend. Could I have my usual?"

With a topic change like that, I was surprised the guy didn't get whiplash. "Sure," he said, his hands up in a lazy surrender. "And for you, Mr. Outlaw?" Cautious eyes shot my way.

Taking a seat beside Vergil, I managed a split-second glance at a menu. The word pasta caught my eye. "Do you have pizza?"

"You're in Fortuna. Of course we have pizza."

He poured Vergil a mug of coffee before heading to the back. He must have been both the waiter and the cook because I didn't hear anyone else but him clinking the dishes together back there. We were the only ones in the place with its old tile walls and squeaky barstools. Vergil sipped his coffee, his eyes lost to some distant thought that had his brow furrowed.

His distraction was the only thing saving us from an awkward silence. Now that I had him pinned, I wasn't sure what to ask or where to begin. So many years had passed since I last saw him, and many more before that, yet I felt like nothing had changed for me in all that time. He said I'd changed, but no, the days had blurred together into stagnation. Meeting Nero was the first real change for me in ages.

"Is the pizza here good?" I asked just to fill the silence.

He'd already downed half his coffee by the time he set the mug down. "The boy likes it."

"You know what he likes?"

"I have an idea." The tips of his fingers pressed into a laminated menu and dragged it across the counter toward us. Worn eyes skimmed the list of meals as he spoke. "The idea of anything too sweet sickens me, but I find other things appealing, even if I've never tried them myself. And I know he often orders poached eggs with toast here. Coffee with cream but no sugar."

"How do you know that?"

He shrugged, and that faraway look found his eyes again. "I'm unsure, but I can't recall that cook's name." This seemed to trouble him, his whole expression puzzled as he searched for a name he shouldn't have cared about.

"Alright Vergil," I sighed, forcing his attention back to me. "Walk me through this whole ordeal. How'd you come to…" I waved a hand up from the kid's head, down to his feet. "This?"

His sigh was silent, but I could see it in the way his chest fell. "I've already told you most of what I could. I did not choose this position. I was not even aware I had it until the arm manifested. I was simply dying one moment and here the next. I know I was asleep for some time. I'm aware that time passed, yet time passed me by in a dreamless state. I only had the right ear for so long. That was all that tethered me to some form of reality. It's strange not having a body, not having sight or touch or even pain. But I suppose, before, that's all there was - pain. The lack of feeling was a relief for a time." For a moment, his eyes showed too much, his expression laid bare with the anguish of those years he'd spent without control of his own body. Then he shook his head, and it was gone.

I couldn't let myself feel sympathy because of what he'd done to Nero. But I could feel guilt. Damn, I could feel some guilt. I drowned in it, like I was sinking and refusing to swim up. "And that's how Nero is now?" I asked.

Vergil nodded once. "Taking over parts of his body one at a time was not what I'd wanted. I was able to have bouts of near-full control, but they never lasted long. My grip was weak. I had to practice. My plan was to get to a point where I could simply snap him from his form completely and place myself in control. The only thing I took other than his ear was one eye, just to be able to see when I needed to."

"When you needed to?" I echoed. I'd been avoiding the question, but while we were there…

This time his sigh was audible and filled with contempt. "I can shut off my focus as needed. I never heard or saw anything… unfortunate. But when you arrived, I realized you were going to attempt to intervene, and I would need to rush things or face your constant watch. In the end, I suppose it didn't matter, but that was why I had to pull so much from Nero individually - smell, then taste, then touch, then sight, and hearing."

"Could you give any of those things back?"

"Well, it's not a matter of if I could. It's if I would." He paused to finish his coffee, and our food came out before I could hear anything else from him. The pizza had more leaves on it than I would have expected. The scruffy cook who Vergil kept staring down informed me that was basil and not some random leaves he found outside.

Vergil had poached eggs with toast and asked for the whole coffee pot.

"So," I began again after the cook had gone back to wash dishes. "Do you care about Nero?" Best to just come out and say it.

Vergil took a bite of his toast, one brow raised as he chewed. He didn't answer until after he was done chewing because he had manners or something "Care for him? To what end? I've certainly taken care of him, but only for the sake of keeping him from killing us both. I have no sort of emotional attachment, though, if that's what you're asking."

There. That was one question answered with the sort of thing I'd expected of Vergil. "And he's not your son?" I prompted.

He looked like he'd stubbed his toe. "What is your fascination with that?"

"Well, you didn't say no before. Are you sure you didn't have a wild, drunken one night stand with some Fortunan woman?"

"He's not my son!"

"Okay, next question. What's up with you having Nero's memories?"

A bit of hesitation made his lip twitch. "I don't."

He must have forgotten that I could tell when he was lying without much trouble. I knew him too well. His voice rose in pitch when he lied, just a fraction, but I could hear it. "You must have something," I said. "You clearly know some things you shouldn't."

His usual frown deepened. The clatter of dishes from the kitchen kept us from silence until he found his answer. "No, clearly not. I can't recall the cook's name."

"You're still on that!?" My voice came out louder than I'd intended, but I didn't bother to lower it. "That's a lame excuse, and you know it."

"I've told you all you need to hear."

"You're avoiding giving an answer."

A crack appeared in the mug under his hand. "I don't need to say anything else to sate your curiosity. I don't owe you any answers. No matter what you learn, nothing changes. You're better off in your usual ignorance."

"Vergil-" I tried to grab his arm. My mistake. He caught my wrist before I could get close. Slamming my hand down onto the counter, he grabbed the coffee pot and upturned the whole thing right over my perfectly-good hand.

I bit my tongue to stifle a whine as I doubled over and tried to shake the furious sting of scorched flesh from my hand. I couldn't imagine how he drank that without his lips melting.

Behind me, the sound of his boots slamming into the linoleum grew farther away until the screen door whined its way open. "Apologies for the mess," he called. "My friend will be paying." When I looked up from the healing skin on my hand, I found the cook standing between the swinging kitchen doors. His eyes were wide with what looked more like curiosity than shock as he looked from me to Vergil.

"Uh, sure," the cook said. "See you, Nero."

I glanced back in time to see Vergil nod and slip out. His voice faded along with him. "Goodbye, Drew."

The cook looked at the coffee spill dripping from his counter, his expression fading back to a dull frown. "At least get some napkins or something," he said. "Your hand doesn't look that bad."

My healing still felt like pricking needles all over the back of my palm, but that wasn't what had me stuck in place, staring at the testy cook. "Drew?" I managed at length. "That's your name?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"I'm confused," I sighed. "Can you make more coffee?"

"Let me see that you actually have money first, and I'll think about it."

I got a guest question about the dad thing, so - Believe what you'd like. Sometimes characters lie. And if I'm honest, it doesn't matter in this fic.

Also, Drew isn't important and won't show up after this, so everyone say bye. Bye, Drew.

Huge thanks to my reviewers, and sorry for the wait!