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Dante jerked awake, throwing blankets aside and already reaching for Rebellion, when-
‟Vergil.” Dante’s fingers just brushed Rebellion’s grip as he stilled, lost. Yes, last time they were together Vergil had snarled in his face, stabbed him and held him transfixed and choking, thrown him across worlds to bleed out, but. . .
But it was Vergil. Dante left Rebellion where it lay.
‟I thought you were remaining in Makai.” Dante said, drawing his legs back up on the mattress, staring at his brother, faintly unreal here in his apartment. ‟Going to take over once Mundus was dead, or in pieces, or whatever happens to giant stone demons when their right hand defeats them. Lead the invasion of the human realm as king yourself.”
Vergil stepped closer. ‟I am.” He held his head high.
‟Because you hate our parents so much?” Dante asked, throat tight. Hate me so much?
Vergil blinked.
‟Our mother, who was human; our father- going against everything he did, everything he fought for. . .”
‟Not that we’d know.” Vergil said, his voice was a little thin, though it remained steady. Perhaps . . . too carefully steady. Dante frowned, eyeing him more carefully. ‟What do we know about him, Dante?” he challenged. ‟Sapiens’ fairy stories of a good demon who protected them. Mom’s bedtime stories.”
‟Mundus’ ranting when he was trying to turn us against the human world, against each other, against everyone.” Dante pointed out, because he didn’t trust a single word from that wretched rocky bastard.
Vergil inclined his head stiffly. Acknowledgement.
‟But you won’t stop.” Dante said, a pang in his chest.
Vergil said nothing, though he wouldn’t quite meet Dante’s gaze.
‟Why are you here?” Dante asked, rough.
‟I. . .” Vergil’s expression . . . twitched. Dante straightened, frowning. ‟I can’t . . . trust. Anyone. Else.”
Dante’s eyes widened. ‟Vergil-”
‟Shut up.” Vergil snapped, teeth bared, and Dante rolled his eyes as he slid out of bed.
‟You came here.” Dante pointed out, crossing to his brother. And he would never, ever be unhappy to see Vergil, but he knew Dante - he’d known when he came what. . .
Dante pushed back the sticky-wet fabric of Vergil’s coat and he groaned between his teeth, but shrugged it off stiffly. He let the Yamato rest alongside Rebellion, and . . . sagged as Dante pushed him, sinking down.
And revealing the raw wound his coat had been hiding.
‟. . .wow. Taking over Makai not going so smoothly, huh?” Dante asked, fingers tracing lightly over the abraded flesh. It had to have been bad, if there was still this much of a mark left.
Vergil sighed, muscles twitching and then easing beneath Dante’s touch. He was relaxed, eyes closed, stretched out on Dante’s bed. Under his hands. Like Vergil belonged here.
Dante swallowed.
‟You’re insufferable.” Vergil said. He didn’t open his eyes.
Dante brought his hand higher, over Vergil’s shoulder. You came to me, though, he thought, painful but fluttery in his chest. He settled nose-to-nose with his brother, and couldn’t miss Vergil’s faint smile or the way he shifted minutely closer.