Work Text:
Vergil's eyes fluttered open to a bright shaft of sunlight piercing through a small gap in the curtains. The room was still dim, which allowed Vergil to close his eyes again, but when he heard a rustle beside him, he opened them once more and glanced at the one next to him.
Leon.
His mate. His beloved. The one who saved him from Mallet Island. The one who loves him with all his heart, even if he made terrible mistakes. Leon would always forgive him. He always waited, believing Vergil would return to him whole, even if broken inside.
"Verg?" Leon murmured sleepily, pressing himself against his beloved's side. His voice was hoarse from sleep, and his breath was warm, burning the alpha's skin.
Leon hugged Vergil, placing a hand on the alpha's chest, feeling the rise and fall of his ribcage, a symbol that this wasn't a dream. This was real.
It was real. That Vergil was alive, lying next to him in bed, and holding him. Which is exactly what Vergil had just done.
He wrapped his large hands around Leon's waist and pulled him close, inhaling his familiar scent. Sweet, warm, with hints of vanilla and something delicious. The omega's scent that had become his home. Vergil closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax for a moment. After everything he had endured on Mallet, after months of emptiness and pain, feeling Leon's living, breathing body beneath his palms was like a breath of fresh air.
"Isn't it too early?" Leon asked, lifting his head slightly. His hair was tousled, his eyes still sleepy, but a smile was already playing on his lips.
"No, we need to get up," Vergil replied, running his fingers through the back of Leon's head, getting tangled in the soft strands. "I have a feeling Nero will jump out of his bed any moment, shouting 'I'm late!'"
"Haha," Leon chuckled at the image, picturing their son with messy hair and rumpled clothes. "Yeah, we should get up."
And after his words, Leon pressed his lips to Vergil's, kissing his alpha. It was a morning kiss, without any flirtation, and without tongues. They did this every morning, greeting each other and the morning. Short, but confident. A confirmation that they were both here, both alive, both belonged to each other. Vergil responded, feeling the familiar, calm warmth spread through his body. His mark on Leon's neck pulsed slightly, a reminder of their bond.
"I'll go wake Nero," Leon whispered, pulling away and stretching. "And you go make coffee. Or did you get up before me and already make it?"
"I just opened my eyes," Vergil chuckled, getting out of bed. "So we'll have to hold off on the coffee for a bit."
Leon laughed, throwing off the blanket and heading to the bathroom. Vergil stood by the window for a moment, parting the curtains. The morning was clear, the air fresh. He stretched, feeling his muscles respond to the movement. His body still remembered the pain, but it was no longer an enemy. It was a tool. A tool for protection.
Dante was already sitting at his desk, answering another call when Vergil came down from the second floor. Leon, meanwhile, had gone to their son's room to wake him. The office downstairs smelled of old wood, dust, and something fried. Papers, empty mugs, and pistol magazines lay scattered on the desk.
"Sweetheart, wake up," Leon said softly, entering their son's dark room.
Nero was sleeping in a funny way. Part of the blanket had fallen to the floor, and part was bunched up around the child's feet. He lay on his back, scratching his stomach in his sleep, causing his shirt to ride up, revealing Nero's soft belly. His other arm was tucked under his pillow, and his legs were splayed out. On the nightstand next to the bed stood an empty mug, a history textbook, and a figurine of some anime hero that Dante had once brought back from a trip.
Leon chuckled at the sight of his son and moved closer. He sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through Nero's hair.
"Nero," Leon said softly into his son's ear, "You're going to be late for school."
Immediately, Nero's eyes flew open, and he shot up with lightning speed, shouting, "I'M LATE!"
And what Vergil had said turned out to be true. Nero's hair stood up in all sorts of directions, a comical mess from his frequent tossing and turning in his sleep. He immediately started scrambling around the room, grabbing clothes from the floor, trying to put on his t-shirt and find his second sock simultaneously.
"Sweetie, Nero," Leon began, trying to calm his son, telling him he wasn't late, just woken up a bit earlier. "Breathe. You still have time. Get dressed calmly."
"Oh," Nero scratched the back of his head, thanking his mother. "Thanks, Mom."
"Let's go."
They went downstairs together, where Vergil was already standing by the stove, making breakfast for everyone. The eggs sizzled in the pan, a light smoke rose from the toast, and sliced vegetables were already laid out on the table. Vergil moved with precision, without unnecessary gestures, as always. But now, there was less tension in his movements. Less of that old, cold composure.
Dante was still on the phone with a client, arguing about an order, when Leon sat down at the table. He nodded at Vergil, accepting his plate, and started to eat.
"Yes, I understand the gun doesn't get returned without prepayment, but you saw how it worked last time," Dante said into the receiver, twirling a pencil between his fingers. "Alright, alright. Come by for lunch. Yes, I'm here. Bye."
He hung up, stretched, and finally turned his attention to the table.
"Smells good, brother," Dante grinned, sitting down. "Do you even know what that thing you're frying is called?"
"Eggs," Vergil replied dryly, not taking his eyes off the pan. "And if you keep arguing with clients at seven in the morning, I'll stop making you breakfast."
"Oh, what a threat," Dante raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. "Alright, I'm quiet. Eating."
They ate a delicious meal, and Nero ran upstairs to get ready for school. The sound of his footsteps on the stairs, the slam of the door, and a loud "I'm ready!" – it all sounded so ordinary. And it was beautiful in its own way.
Leon was washing the dishes and felt someone hug him around the waist from behind. It was Vergil. He rested his head on the omega's shoulder, still inhaling his scent. The alpha's arms were warm, and Leon leaned back, resting his back against Vergil's chest.
After they returned from Mallet Island, Vergil took a long time to recover. At first, he paid no attention to anyone and only responded to his name. He couldn't do anything unless he was ordered to. Sometimes he would sit by the window for hours, staring into space.
When Vergil had more or less recovered, he could attend to his own affairs, which included: reading books, tons of books, cleaning Yamato, sleeping, and eating. He became who he was again. But different. Softer. Or perhaps, he had simply learned to show what he used to hide behind his armor.
Months passed, and Vergil was almost healed. He could still spar with Dante, train Nero in swordsmanship, and most importantly, love Leon. Everything had returned to normal, but the scars remained.
"Verg?" the alpha heard Leon call him. He had drifted off and hadn't heard what Leon said. His thoughts were still somewhere else, between memories and reality.
"Sorry, I didn't hear what you said," Vergil lifted his head, looking at Leon's profile. Water flowed over his fingers, foam dripped from the sponge. Leon smiled, wiping his hands with a towel.
"I said to take Nero to school," Leon replied, washing his hands after doing the dishes. "Dante can't take him today, and I have to leave soon. So you have to take him."
"Alright, my love."
"Thank you," and Leon thanked his mate with a kiss on the cheek. "You'll get the rest tonight."
Leon smiled flirtatiously, and Vergil placed his hands on the omega's hips, squeezing them. The warmth of his skin, his scent, the slight tremor beneath his fingers. All of it made his heart beat a little faster.
"You'd better not flirt with me like that, my love," Vergil growled softly into Leon's ear. His voice was low, husky, sending shivers down Leon's spine.
"Heh. Don't push it," Leon added. "Go get ready. Nero is waiting."
Leon and Vergil went upstairs to change into street clothes when Nero shouted that he was ready. Leon changed first, so he quickly went downstairs and said that his father would take him to school today.
"Oh, Dad hasn't taken me in a while," Nero said happily, bouncing in place. "Cool!"
Vergil descended a couple of minutes later, dressed elegantly. Of the three inhabitants, he alone knew his way around art and fashion. Therefore, he dressed exquisitely, but not excessively. A dark coat, a shirt with rolled-up sleeves, neat trousers, and boots. Nothing superfluous. But every detail fit perfectly. He looked like he'd stepped off a magazine cover, yet remained himself. Grounded. Confident.
Nero was the first to exit the office, bidding Dante goodbye, and Leon and Vergil followed him.
"Don't get into trouble, kid," Leon ruffled Nero's hair and kissed him on the cheek before getting on his motorcycle. He was supposed to meet Lady at a cafe, from where they would head out on a mission, so he chose his motorcycle as a quick mode of transport.
"And you be careful, my love," Vergil hugged his partner, bidding him farewell. His hands slid down Leon's waist, the omega's scent hitting his nostrils once more. Vergil allowed himself to press his forehead against Leon's shoulder for a second.
Leon quickly pecked Vergil before putting on his helmet. And then he was gone. Only clouds of dust remained.
Vergil glanced at his son, who was standing by the car they were supposed to take. Nero had already opened the door and tossed his backpack onto the back seat. Vergil nodded, approaching the driver's seat.
"Dad, can we stop by a place on the way?" Nero asked, buckling himself into his booster seat as Vergil started the car.
"And where might that be?" Vergil pulled out of the parking lot, and they drove at a normal pace. The car glided smoothly along the asphalt, overtaking the sparse morning traffic.
"Usually, Uncle Dante or Mom and I stop by a cafe that serves delicious cookies," and Nero told him about the place. "They have chocolate ones with nuts and ones with filling. Uncle Dante always gets two, and Mom gets one. And I... well, I always get a big box."
Since his father didn't often drive him to school, Vergil didn't know about this place either, but he couldn't refuse his son, could he?
"Of course."
They pulled up to a cafe with no queue. Inside, it smelled of coffee, pastries, and cinnamon. Behind the counter stood a young girl in an apron who immediately recognized him. Nero quickly ran up to the girl at the register and stood on his tiptoes to get a better look at the display.
"Nero!" she exclaimed, greeting the child. "The usual for you?"
"Yes," Nero nodded at the girl's words.
Vergil stood next to his son, and the crowd began to stare at him. They were, to put it mildly, in shock at such a handsome and elegant man. Some girls gazed at him, licking their lips, while the men looked on with fierce expressions. But Vergil paid them no mind; he only looked at his son. And if Yamato had been in his hands, he would have clenched it. He didn't like being looked at like an exhibit. He wasn't an object. He was a father. A husband. And that was that.
"Here, take this, Nero," the girl handed the boy a beautifully decorated box of cookies, and she gave another to Vergil. "And for you too, Dante. You look different today, somehow?"
After her words, Vergil froze. It had been a long time since they had mistaken him for Dante. The last time was when the twins were eight years old. Back then, they didn't have distinct scents yet, and they didn't wear different hairstyles. Now, the difference was obvious.
"Excuse me, but I am not Dante," but Vergil took the box of cookies. His voice was even, without emotion. But something stirred within him. Something old, familiar.
"Oh," the girl immediately blushed at her words, "I'm so sorry, but you look so much like him, and I..."
But then Nero interrupted the girl.
"Uncle Dante and my dad aren't too similar," Nero said intelligently. "Dad's hair is slicked back, and he doesn't wear red. And anyway, Dad is serious. Uncle Dante... well, he's Uncle Dante."
"Yes, I'll know now," the girl muttered, averting her gaze.
They left the cafe and got into the car. The box of cookies lay on Nero's lap. Vergil started the engine but didn't immediately pull away.
"Dad, she thought you were Uncle Dante," Nero laughed.
"It's normal," Vergil replied to his son, pulling out onto the road. "When we were kids, we were often mistaken for Dante, especially by the old ladies next door."
"Really?" Nero wanted to hear more stories about his father and uncle. And although only Dante told him stories from his childhood, he also wanted to hear from his father. "Did you fight? Uncle Dante said you were constantly doing that."
"Constantly," Vergil chuckled. "But that's in the past now. Now we are the family we wanted to be."
"Cool!"
"Someday I'll tell you, Nero," Vergil replied, pulling up to the school. "But not today. Today, you have to study."
They pulled up to a parking spot near the school, which didn't have too many cars. Vergil parked, and Nero immediately jumped out, followed by Vergil. The air was fresh, smelling of asphalt and autumn leaves. Students milled around, laughing, shoving each other, sharing their breakfasts. Ordinary life. The kind Vergil once thought impossible for himself.
As soon as they got out, a few guys, probably Nero's friends, ran up to him, Vergil thought. They pulled Nero towards the school gates, and Nero, quickly saying goodbye to his father, ran off after his friends.
"Bye, Dad!" he shouted, waving.
"Be careful," Vergil replied, nodding.
Vergil watched Nero go, then turned, heading towards one of the city's libraries. There, he could relax and read a couple of books while Nero was at school. He loved libraries. The quiet. The smell of old paper. The chance to escape the world's noise and immerse himself in thought.
But less than an hour passed before Vergil felt something was wrong. The protective spells that were supposed to shield the school from demon attacks were crackling faintly. And that spoke volumes. Including the fact that demons had infiltrated the school.
The school where his son studied.
He was about to summon Yamato and open a portal to quickly get to the school, but he remembered that it was best not to do such things in front of ordinary people. So, he quickly left the library and headed for the school.
He was immediately let inside, and remembering where Nero's classroom was, he went up to the second floor and entered one of the rooms.
The door was ajar. Sobbing could be heard from inside. And a smell. Rotten, inhuman.
There, he saw the following scene:
Nero's classmates stood in the corners, clinging to each other. Some were crying loudly, while others pressed against each other, saying they wanted to go home. The homeroom teacher stood in front of the children, protecting them. Her hands trembled, but she didn't back down.
And only now did he see Nero. He lay on the floor, his right arm from shoulder to elbow completely covered in blood. Drops trickled all the way to his fingers, and Vergil immediately summoned Yamato as he stepped inside the classroom. The blade slipped from its sheath with a quiet chime. The air grew heavy. The tension reached its peak.
There, he saw a couple of demons. Small, but aggressive. With fangs, claws, and eyes burning with a dim red light. They prowled around the classroom, breaking desks, knocking over books. One of them turned at the sound of footsteps.
"Finallyyyy," hissed one of the demons, "One of the traitor Sparda's sons has arrived."
But Vergil didn't let them finish, severing all the demons' heads with Yamato. His movements were precise, without hesitation. The blade sliced through the air, flesh, and bone. Blood splattered onto the floor. The demons collapsed, turning into black slime that immediately began to evaporate. Vergil didn't even glance at them. He was already beside Nero.
He began to examine him. With his power, he stopped the bleeding, but Nero needed emergency help. He touched the wound, feeling the pulsation, the damaged vessels, the torn muscles. His fingers glowed faintly blue, sealing the most dangerous areas, but it wasn't enough. Doctors were needed. And right now.
"What happened? Why is my son bleeding out?" he asked the class teacher, but the woman, at the sight of the dismembered demons, collapsed onto the floor, unable to stand. "Damn it."
Vergil cursed, sheathing Yamato. He knelt beside Nero, supporting his head with one hand, and with the other, he let Yamato disappear into his hand.
"D-Dad...?" Nero opened his eyes, hissing in pain. His arm hurt like hell, but he couldn't do anything about it. His face was pale, his lips dry. But he was smiling. Weakly.
"It's okay, Nero," Vergil pulled Nero closer, taking off his coat and covering his son. "Dad's here, so everything will be alright."
"I believe you."
In the end, Nero was taken by ambulance to the hospital, while Vergil stayed at the school to find out how the demons had appeared. As he recalled, the school was protected from minor pests, but how had they gotten in? He walked the perimeter of the school, but felt nothing. The traces of entry were too clean. Too neat. Someone must have opened the door. Or weakened the defenses.
Vergil stood on the polished tiles in the principal's office. The latter was trembling under the gaze of the stately alpha, who held a coat stained with his own son's blood. The room smelled of old wood, expensive tobacco, and fear. The principal sat at his desk, gripping the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles were white.
"I'm asking," Vergil took a step towards the school principal's desk. His voice was quiet. Too quiet. It made things even more terrifying. "How did demons get in here? I gave you amulets and crystals that were supposed to protect this place and hide it from demons. But what do I see? My son is injured because of a demon, and I myself can't sense several of the amulets."
Vergil approached the desk, placing his hands on it. A couple of strands of hair had escaped his hairstyle and fell down, making him resemble Dante.
But an angry Dante was nothing compared to an angry Vergil. The elder brother, as head of the family, was supposed to protect all his own, but he had failed. His son had been injured by a minor demon. And this gnawed at him from the inside. Guilt, anger, helplessness.
But before Vergil could fully intimidate the old man, Dante appeared, opening the doors and entering the office. He looked as if he had run here non-stop. His jacket was on haphazardly, his hair was disheveled, and his breathing was heavy.
"Hey, Verg, bro," Dante immediately rushed to his brother, pulling him away from the principal's desk. The latter was grateful for this. "What are you doing? You should be with Nero right now, with your son, not here intimidating a simple man."
"Silence, Dante!" Vergil raised his voice, but stepped away from the desk. "I'm trying to deal with a problem that shouldn't have existed! This place was supposed to be protected by talismans, but not all of them are here."
"What?" Dante couldn't believe what his older brother was saying. "Then why were demons able to get in here?"
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." the old man began to apologize, explaining to them.
Due to the greed of the school principal, who saw how expensive the artifacts Vergil had given him looked, he had taken a couple for himself and sold them, receiving a large sum of money.
He stammered, tried to justify himself, spoke of debts, of how no one would have noticed. But Vergil was no longer listening. He only saw the result. Blood on the floor. His son's pale face. The trembling hands of the teacher who had tried to protect the children.
"YOU!" Now Dante was ready to lunge at the old man, and Vergil didn't even stop him. He simply walked out of the office and began to wait for his brother.
He didn't want to get his hands dirty with such a vile creature, the kind he touched his beloved with. But Dante was different. He just wanted to fight with his fists.
Many children and adults, passing by the principal's office, hearing the loud curses and shouts, would immediately quicken their pace. And when they saw Vergil's angry glare, they would instantly vanish from that floor.
'Nero will not be studying at this school anymore,' Vergil decided in his thoughts. He wouldn't allow his son to be hurt again. Not here. Not anywhere. He would transfer him somewhere else, far from greedy people and weak protective circles.
Then he remembered a place. Fortuna. It was a remote town, once protected by Sparda, their father. And a long time ago, Vergil had already been there, where he met Leon.
A quiet, peaceful town, with strong old barriers that still held. There, Nero would be safe. There, they could start anew.
Having finished with the proceedings, Dante left the office and approached his brother. He nodded to him, indicating that it was over and they could leave. Dante's face was grim, but his eyes still burned with the same old, brotherly anger. Anger at the world that constantly tried to take away what was dear to them.
"I'll call Lady," Dante said, pulling out his phone. "She'll help with the transfer. And with protecting the new place."
"Good," Vergil replied, heading for the exit. "I'll go to the hospital."
"I'm with you."
And everyone watched the two men, so alike yet so different, walk away.
***
Leon only learned that his son had been injured when he and Lady returned from a mission. He saw his son with a cast on his arm. It turned out that Nero's arm was not only wounded but also broken in several places.
"Ch..." Leon collapsed onto the floor, unable to believe his eyes. His legs gave out. His breathing became ragged. The scent of omega, usually soft and warm, was now sharp, hollow with panic and pain.
Vergil, seeing his mate on the floor, immediately rushed to him, embracing him by the shoulders and helping him to stand. He began to comfort Leon. His voice was low and steady, but a tremor of anxiety also ran through it.
"My love," Vergil cupped Leon's cheeks in his palms so they could look at each other. "Nero is fine. An unforeseen situation occurred, but now it's all minor injuries."
"Why, Vergil?" Leon asked, tears in his eyes. "Why is our son injured? He was healthy just a couple of days ago, what happened?"
"Mom," Nero ran to his mother and father, hugging them with his good arm. "I'm okay. It's just a small fracture. It'll heal soon, really. You don't need to cry about it."
"No, Nero, I'm your mother and I will always worry about your condition. Even if it's just a simple scratch."
"Sorry, Mom," Nero apologized, but Leon pulled his son closer.
"Oh, my baby," Leon inhaled his son's familiar scent, which he hadn't smelled for a couple of days due to work. His son's scent, real, alive. He closed his eyes, holding Nero tighter, afraid to let go.
Vergil took Nero into one arm so they could stand evenly, and with the other, he embraced Leon, pulling his mate and son close.
Leon didn't take his eyes off his son, and only in the evening did he let Nero go to his room. Leon himself went into their room with Vergil, where the alpha was already reading a book. The light was dim, and a cup of already cooled tea sat on the nightstand. Vergil was sitting in an armchair, but as soon as Leon entered, he put down his book and stood up.
Because of everything that had happened, Leon was exhausted, so after quickly changing and washing up, he collapsed into bed. Vergil followed suit, changing his clothes and getting into the warm bed. The mattress sagged under their weight.
"My love, his wound should heal soon," Vergil began the conversation, turning onto his side and looking at Leon.
"Are you absolutely sure?" Leon lay on his stomach, turning his head to see Vergil. "I have a bad feeling."
"Cast them aside," Vergil embraced Leon, placing a hand on one of his beloved's thighs. "Do you remember what you promised me that morning?"
"Ah, Vergil," Leon's sleepiness vanished as if by magic, and he sat up abruptly, straddling Vergil's hips. "I wanted to go to sleep, and you."
"And I feel that you're definitely not going to sleep."
Vergil's hands moved lower, to Leon's backside, squeezing it. Leon sighed at this, and let out a quiet moan, immediately covering his mouth.
"Nero and Dante are sleeping nearby."
"My love," Leon felt something pressing against his backside. "Then you need to be as quiet as possible."
"Is that a challenge?" Leon asked.
