Chapter Text
He wasn't good at the whole family thing. He could tell that from where he was. Dante was laughing, his arm thrown around Nico's shoulders. She had to half jog in order to keep up with his longer strides. Just a little bit behind and to the right were Nero and Kyrie, pinkies interlocked. He was at the back, watching them. They were all talking, fast paced and casually. There was no effort to it. When he spoke there was a lot of effort, a lot of thought going into his words, and even then he said the wrong thing half the time. He wasn't slow, but he was distant, and that allowed him to slip behind the others easily enough, allowed him to observe and learn the love language of those he cared for.
Dante was quick and a bit violent, though his punches were never with any force and they always came with a smile and a quick line of wit. He wore a mask at all times, Vergil could see it, had seen behind it a few times, when Dante was quiet and subdued to the side, not pretending that he wasn't phased by anything for the benefit of the others. Nico was very touchy and gift giving and warm. She would talk a mile a minute and half the time it sounded like a different language to Vergil. Kyrie was also a gift giver, though her gifts were more of hospitality than weapons and she was a gifted host. She was a lot quieter than the others but she listened well and had excellent advice. Nero was smack dab i the middle of them all and he was always checking in on everyone, putting a hand on a shoulder or arm, turning his head to make sure no one got left behind.
Vergil got left behind. It was only for a moment, because he had stopped walking. He could hear something and that something was more intriguing than his hurting himself in trying to figure out what his own love language was. He was fairly certain that he didn't have one and the only reason that he was staying with this group was so that Dante could keep an eye on him, make sure he wasn't causing any more problems. That was all he was really good at, after all.
What he heard though, was music. It wasn't anything spectacular, but it was something. He looked at the church that he had stopped in front of. He was sure that none of the humans could hear it but it was definitely of human make. Classical music, a lot of different instruments. He recognized the song as well, to the point that it brought tears to his eyes, just thinking about it. It sounded like the musty leaves at the beginning of Autumn and felt like smooth wood under his chin, like gentle fingers brushing through his hair and a word of praise in his ear.
Nero was calling to him though, noticing him falling behind. Shoving his hands in the dark gray peacoat he left the music behind, speeding up to catch up with the rest. He caught sight of the sign though, for the Golden Rose Church, and held it against his teeth so that he wouldn't forget it.
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It was hard, frustratingly hard, to get through to Vergil. He was just sitting there, cheek against his palm, scrolling through something on his phone. Sometimes it was a book, sometimes it was polishing Yamato, but it was never conversing. He didn't talk and when he did it was awkward, like he wasn't sure if what he had to say was what anyone wanted to hear. If it was towards Dante it was usually a pack of insults all shoved together into a beautifully composed sentence, but with the rest of them he was so careful that Nero could scream. Vergil and Dante had been back for over a month now and Nero felt like he still didn't know anything about his father that he didn't know from Dante. So his knowledge of the man sitting at the front desk of Devil May Cry was Dante's memories of him from when they were kids and a little bit from when they were young adults. All he knew was that they were always fighting. And that Vergil wouldn't talk to him unless he had everything perfectly planned out.
"You're coming by on Thursday, right?" Nero asked, leaning against the desk. "Kyrie's making something new. Something about stuffing mushrooms? I don't know."
Vergil stilled. He didn't put his phone away or hide it but he did the next best thing by turning off the screen so Nero couldn't see it. That set the hairs on Nero's neck on end. He hadn't really cared what Vergil was looking at but now he was worried.
Vergil was silent for a moment, composing himself. "I believe I will be preoccupied on Thursday, though I do appreciate the gesture," he finally said and then squinted, eyebrows knitting together a he went over what he just said, as if hunting for mistakes in it. "Kyrie is a wonderful cook. If there was some other time?"
"You can come over whenever you want, you know," Nero shrugged, "You don't have to wait for an invitation. Even if I'm not there, Kyrie would be happy to have you."
Vergil opened his mouth, staring at Nero. Then he closed it and set his hands flat on the desk. "Thank you."
And then, just to add to it, because he could see that Vergil was floundering, unable to think of the right course, Nero smiled at him. He smiled and he said, in a cool but confidant voice, the truth as he knew it. "She feels safe with you, you know?"
Vergil tensed, obviously, his shoulders all but going up to his ears as he stared at Nero. He pushed himself up and away from the desk. "She shouldn't."
Nero reached out though, before Vergil could escape, and grabbed him by the wrist. They didn't have a family relationship, not yet. He didn't know what it was like to have a father and Vergil didn't know what to do with a son, but Nero grabbed a hold of him anyway. He wanted to try. He wanted to have this relationship with Vergil, had wondered about him for so long. "She should. She never met you before but I knew you, when you were at your most human, and I loved you then. You can be a good man, you have proved that. You just have to allow yourself that."
Vergil inhaled through his teeth so that it was almost a hiss. "I am trying that, even though it goes, so desperately, against my nature."
"You and Dante have the same nature," Nero corrected, "You've just hidden it away and I understand that, really, I do. Don't forget that we're here to help."
Vergil nodded and slipped his wrist out from Nero's hold.