"They're fine," Nero says flatly, immediately at V's concern. "Just dizzy and weak and coughing. I guess half-demons don't get sick very often, which explains all the goddamn bellyaching about it..."
V offers his assistance, and Nero is sorely tempted to ask if he's got a gag or two handy.
"They're about to be left on the side of the road somewhere if I don't get out of this house." To further make the point, Nero steps outside and closes the door behind him. "What kind of distraction?"
V is not sick the way Nero describes, but he's weak. Everything takes so much effort, and he gets exhausted easily. If he were anywhere else, he'd be dead. V manages the much improved as unwell as ever. Fully human weaknesses. Vergil remembers those times. He may have closer experience to it than Dante, but it must infuriate him to feel such weakness as the whole, the half-demon both demon and human. To think, V may be able to do more now than him.
Nero steps forward, and V takes a half-step back to give him more space. It's well and good except that Nero asks what distraction he means. The question implied V came for Nero and had ideas in mind, a sound choice if only he'd made it. Instead he wracks his mind for a distraction, one that Nero might like and would not exhaust V. Something active, if only to give them more to do than stare at each other uncomfortably. He knows so little of Folkmore.
"I've heard tell of an arcade in Epiphany but not gone," V suggests. His only other ideas involve eating food. That has too much of simply sitting with each other, with no distraction save to take a bite of food in a bid for time. He shrugs. He doesn't need anything of Nero besides Nero. They could row a boat on a lake for all he cares. There's more conversations they need to have, he suspects, than one day can handle. That day may not even be today.
An arcade? That doesn't sound like V's kind of scene... and then Nero realizes he's suggesting it for his benefit, because he thinks it might be something Nero would like. (He's also correct.)
What a very familiar maneuver that is.
For a moment he looks at V, a little bemused, as though trying to read something in his face. What he's thinking, maybe. Whether or not he knows who Nero is-- though the fact Vergil's spoken to him means that the information probably came up. What he might think about that. Just when the moment starts to draw out uncomfortably long, he smiles and turns back into the house.
"Gimme a sec. I'll grab my stuff."
He emerges a few minutes later, pulling on his jacket and more certain than ever that the Sparda family all needs a couple hours' break from each other. For safety reasons.
"Let's go for a walk and see where we end up," he offers. "I need the fresh air and. Well. Guess we probably ought to catch up, huh?"
The silence gets filled, in V's mind, with Griffon's unhelpful chatter. Fortunately, V's gotten good at making no outward reaction to the bird's histrionics. Internally, unfortunately, is another matter and one Griffon gets a sense of, if not those around him. It's distracting, however, from how much dead air stands between V's suggestion and Nero's response, so that his anxiety has not entirely spiked when the boy speaks.
On the one hand, Nero implicitly agrees to spend time with V. On the other hand, it says nothing about the specific offer. V's not especially tied to the idea of an arcade, so it's overall a win. Nero talking with him and continuing to talk with him after what conversations they need to have is the real victory. Not that V would have softballed any challenges in the arcade to let Nero win in order to curry favor. No, any victory would be earned fairly. The same as it feels this win is.
V reads a little poetry while Nero gets his things and closes the book, tucking it away, as the door opens. Since all he sees different is the jacket, V supposes Nero likely checked on his patients and made sure they were ready to brave the world for a short span on their own without anyone caring for them. Knowing the Sparda twins, they would manage no matter what, but as Nero plays babysitter and nursemaid, perhaps not to his satisfaction.
He nods and starts walking... no direction in particular. As much as this part of Epiphany is his most explored, V has no destination in mind. Perhaps not Catfe, as he's already spent hours there today, but that's hardly direction. "There was a great deal we did not have time to speak of while making our way through the qliphoth tree," V comments, "It would do us both good to talk."
Vergil's summary of the rest of that day did not cover Nero's arm regrowing, perhaps not important a topic, but more to the point, there's how V treated Nero. It's not the relationship he wants with Nero now. "If there's any topic you most want to discuss, we can talk about it first."
Nero seems perfectly content to just follow along aimlessly wherever V goes. More of a walk than any kind of destination in mind. He has the distinct sense of deja-vu though, from the day he arrived in Folkmore and found himself wandering aimlessly after Vergil.
Vergil and V. It seems... rude somehow to conflate the two, but how can he not?
"You're looking a lot better. That's good," he remarks. "Though. Hard to look worse than you did last time I saw you, huh?"
Well, that's a hell of an icebreaker. But Nero's good at those.
"So is this... weird for you? With Vergil and all?"
The compliment from Nero earns a quirk of the brow. V looks no better or worse than he did when he arrived, which is to say than he did the moment he came from. So he clearly got worse before he succeeded in his mission—not a surprise by any means, simply an unpleasant reality. With Nero (and presumably Dante, though to a lesser degree), it shifts from a matter of logic to lived truth. It makes him appreciate being here—alive and "well"—and simultaneously irritated with Thirteen given that must be the effect she's going for.
He's not irritated with Nero over it. The remark probably means little, other than something to say. Perhaps along a similar line of 'you have twice as many arms as last time I saw you.' V will pass on saying as much.
"It's... unexpected," V says, "I never considered the possibility of meeting Vergil. His existence would mean both I succeeded and I no longer existed. Yet he was one of the people I met my first day in this place."
So there was no time to consider the odds of Vergil coming to or being in Folkmore. All the other vast amounts of information flooded at him was enough. He should have thought that far in advance. Except, Vergil isn't a threat, nor his presence a risk to V's well being. Not on Vergil's account.
V's response catches him a little off guard, and he has to think about it for a moment. Is it possible, maybe, that V doesn't remember all of what happened? That seems like something the stupid fox would do.
"What's the last thing you remember?" he asks, going off the hunch. At least it should prevent him from saying anything else really stupid, or... dropping any truthbombs he doesn't mean to, come to think of it.
Smart kid. V wonders how much of the time between what V remembers and what Nero remembers the boy will share. The question is likely to calibrate himself, but that information can get put to multiple uses. V doesn't expect to learn or know everything about the future, that infinity between him and Vergil that can only be hours. Yet some of it is surely relevant to know, of his interest and right. Vergil knows it all. Vergil remembers it all, but he said nothing of V's memories from that day.
"Vergil told me what he thought I needed to know," V answers that question first. "After I merged with Urizen, he and Dante left you to finish destroying the qliphoth roots in the demon realm."
That summarizes it really. A single sentence without notably more detail. His lips curl up. "I know that must leave a great deal out, even of what I cannot remember. I'd just caught Malphas's attention and thought it likely my mission would fail."
Someone saved him. It's the only explanation for how he'd make it farther. V considers Nero again. Process of elimination would suggest it was him. Dante forged ahead without waiting for them, and everyone else remained in the van. Yet it's too large a thing to assume based purely on that logic, when so much happened that chaotic day.
Vergil told him what he thought he needed to know... well, that narrows it the fuck down. So anything between "everything in excruciating detail" and "absolutely nothing."
V is then at least good enough to be more specific. So he was told about the twins fucking off and leaving Nero behind. Doesn't really clarify some of the more important bits...
"Malphas..." Nero murmurs. "That ugly bird freak? With the chicks on the back?" He remembers, of course. Just didn't catch her... its... their name? "I strung her up like a rotisserie and stuck a fork in her."
His tone gets a little more solemn. "Then you were... dying. Crumbling to bits. You asked me to take you to Urizen, so I did. Then the whole... pillar of light and Vergil bit, yeah."
His heart flops over in his chest, rather like a dying chicken, when Nero confirms that he killed Malphas, that he saved V. The one means the other given the situation he came from. He feels like a small child of eight again surrounded by demons and desperate, not for power, but to be saved. For someone to step in and stop the demons from killing him. Only the yamato answered his call, and with it, his power. He had to save himself, no matter how much it hurt. His chest aches with longing, that strange dissonance between knowing he'll be saved and not yet having been saved. Could the fox not have come for him moments later?
No, it seems. As difficult a time as V has now, dying and crumbling to bits is not a sustainable state to be in. Despite the burn in his chest, he inclines his head in recognition of what Nero says. Words take longer.
His legs carry him down the river of emotion that threatens to sweep him away. Nero was the key. Even if Dante was strong enough to defeat Urizen that day without Nero's help, V wouldn't have succeeded without Nero. Vergil wouldn't exist without him. They both owe him their lives. He had no idea how right that feeling was to go to Fortuna that night Dante lost to Urizen.
"Thank you," V says seriously. "You did more than I ever hoped."
Nero blinks. Turns slightly pink. Clearly has no idea what to do with the sudden and sincere expression of gratitude. Not that V had never expressed gratitude to him before, but it was more in the way of "I owe you one" or other cryptic, distant statements. It's a bit startling to hear this from... not from Vergil, but from someone with enough of Vergil in him to make Nero realize how bizarre open gratitude is.
"Um... sure. You're welcome." He reaches up to itch his nose, a nervous tic. "It wasn't a big deal. We were all on the same team."
V watches the way ahead of them to give Nero and himself some privacy from that bare emotion. He needed more time before he spoke, perhaps a matter of hours. No matter that he has those hours now, it always feels like he doesn't, like whatever he's doing may well be his last. Instead of dying of shame, he has to live with it. It sounds like it was too much.
It was a big deal, but V isn't going to reinforce that. It's no larger or smaller for shying away from it in conversation. Nor does he feel any less... everything about it. It matters to him.
"We were," V confirms. Save the world. Fix his mistake. Whichever lens best suited the person in question, the outcome was the same. Whatever else he did, whatever lies he told, V was always honest that he wanted to stop Urizen's reckless pursuit of power and that he needed help to do so.
Nero never pictured himself as manipulated or tricked during the Red Grave incident. He didn't need any convincing or prodding for a shot at avenging himself on Urizen-- even if the decision to abscond from his hospital room put him in the doghouse with Kyrie for the next month. He was, of course, absolutely in the dark when it came to the true meaning of events and the true nature of the enemy they faced. But that was as much Dante's doing as it was V's. He even sort of understands why Dante lied by omission, at this point.
It's less clear to him why V kept things so close to the chest, apart from the sheer unbelievable audacity of his story. Would Nero or Dante have even believed him if he did tell the truth? It probably wouldn't have changed any of Nero's actions or choices. And now, he certainly can't deny that, short of the entire mess being prevented from the beginning, things ended about as well as they could have under the circumstances. They all lived. Vergil lived. And V... Well. He's alive now, anyway.
"What else did Vergil tell you?" he asks, nearing what he thinks might be the real crux of the matter. "About me?"
Nero gives a practical answer, and whatever complicated feelings lie behind it, V can only take him at his word. It's disrespectful to do otherwise. He will not assume where that leaves them. Being on the same side is the bare minimum for remaining civil with each other. It says nothing to what their relationship might be here where there is not a common enemy that urgently must be fought. Whatever Thirteen is, even should V be able to defeat her, that might only spell his death and the end of Vergil's life with Nero.
It's not time yet for V to ask questions. He offered to answer questions for Nero, and the next question is entirely reasonable. If V hadn't spoken with Vergil yet or if Vergil said nothing of the matter, Nero would be in the position to reveal the truth to V—the alternative being to wait for Thirteen to do so. It's too shocking a revelation to be left alone.
"When we first met, I knew you had to be a Sparda," V says. "I assumed at the time you were Dante's. After speaking with Vergil, I know I was wrong."
He words it carefully, neither claiming nor rejecting Nero as his. He's had days—days!—to think about it, and it still confounds him. Oh, not how it happened. He understands when that happened, but what it means for him and Nero? It elevates the uncertainty between them to a whole new level.
V looks over at Nero. "Foolish though it may be, it was more confounding to learn than anything about this place."
Man... was it really that obvious to everyone else?
Like, okay. Nero had also known, in some respect, that he was probably related to the Sparda line. White hair? Superpowers? It's not like there are all that many other demon hybrids running around. But he supposed it never occurred to him how very few there were.
For a long time he, too, wondered if Dante might be his father. He was old enough, and they looked similarly, and had so much in common... but Nero also assumed that Dante would have told him so, were that the case. (In hindsight he wonders why he assumed that, given Dante acts like being straightforward with Nero will actually kill him more often than not. Not unjustifiably, Nero suspects, but still...) But it still surprises him to hear that V-- a shade of his own father-- assumed that as well.
(This whole V business is fucking weird, make no mistake, but it does provide some deeper insight into Vergil... a fact Nero suspects Vergil probably hates.)
V's words leave him a little caught off guard. He frowns, raising an eyebrow. "Confounding how? What do you mean?"
What people may glean about Vergil from their interactions with V is Vergil's problem, something the man no doubt realized as soon as he lay eyes on V. V will do, did, whatever his duty by Vergil. He is the reason Vergil exists. It's difficult enough without trying to cover Vergil's ass. Nor would it likely work. He's not one to take up a lost cause.
He is not sure how much thought Nero has given him or more accurately them, their relationship. If the boy has a clear idea of what he wants or does not, it would be simpler no matter what that answer is. V could set aside any thoughts of his own as to what it could be and accept what it is. Until then, the ground is unsteady at best and threatens to crumble.
"Oh, I know whence you come," V says, "I did not have all my memories when we first met, but they've stitched themselves together with time. It simply complicates what we might mean to each other—
"A question I don't expect an answer to today or by any certain date. You have more than enough on your hands right now."
He motions behind them toward the house and its patients they left behind. It's an issue Vergil is no help on. Vergil made clear he's Nero's father, and V is glad for him, for them both. In the long run, when they leave this place, it is no issue, but for as much of a life as V has, it's an answer he'll have to find. He doesn't even know what it would be, should Nero leave it entirely in his hands.
Nero opens his mouth to retort, but finds he doesn't know what to say. Obviously the situation with Vergil and V is quite unique. He's uncertain what the both of them actually think or feel about any of this or what they may have spoken of when they met up. He's also not sure what he would even begin to call V if pressed for a label now. A friend? An ally? A family member? But what family member, then? A brother? Maybe even a... stepfather?
He feels a sudden pang at that thought. Pictures Vergil's face crumbling to hear it spoken aloud. Is it possible to cheat on your dad with a weird supernatural remnant of himself?
But at the same time, is that fair to V? He'd described him to Kyrie as "everything good in Vergil." It feels quite cruel to deny that, to deny the sprouting feelings and realizations that would, theoretically, blossom into the way Vergil feels about Nero now. And even without any fucky-wucky time bullshit factored in, it feels wrong to treat V as a castoff, as a lesser person. Even if he literally is.
God. He went from having zero parents to having a father and a half and not knowing how the fuck to handle that. Ain't that just the way?
After a moment of silence, awkward fretting, glancing at V here and again, he finally lets out a quiet sigh.
"Well. Okay. What might I mean to you, then?" He folds his arms, looking a little self-conscious. "I'm not... sure how we should deal with this."
A clear no, Nero has not thought about it. That's fine. It's hardly a situation most people ever find themselves in, and as Folkmore has made abundantly clear, there is no shortage of issues on which to spend his time. It's one reason V's hesitated to call on the house and to speak with Nero or Dante. Whatever they thought of him before, they must think something differently of him now. An issue that seemed the past, only a part of Vergil's story, until the day V arrived. So they've had no more time to ponder it than him.
The question gets turned back on V, both eminently reasonable and imminently uncomfortable. Entirely unavoidable as well. It's only natural that Nero's opinion of what he wants would be influenced by what V wants. The question that stares him down in the mirror (when other people are not busy appearing in said mirror) in many iterations: what does he want? what does it mean?
"I must first preface that whatever relationship we might develop does nothing to undermine, demean, or lessen your relationship with Vergil in any regard," V says, "He is your father, and I am given to understand he has worked hard to make amends, gain your trust, and take on that mantle."
No one has implied V would do so, but his presence alone impacts their lives. The ties between him and Vergil cannot be cut, only acknowledged.
"Handling Urizen, I lacked the time to consider what you or Dante might mean to me. You would mean nothing if I failed, and it all seemed like it could wait until then—despite the fact that means until the point I no longer existed as myself," V says. It's so hard to speak of the matter itself, but he cannot speak around it entirely. "Even should you ever decide I mean nothing more than a stranger to you, you will always mean something to me. Something more than the means to stop Urizen and correct my mistake."
The word hangs in his mind.
"Family, I expect. The shape that might take remains more nebulous. Father, uncle, brother, they rise and fall as questions. As something we might be. The only clear thing about it is that whatever we are will take time and effort." His heart races, as though he's running and fighting with all his might. It's only one foot in front of the other, and that feels challenging at the moment. V leans on his cane at the immensity of what he's said.
"A title without what comes behind it is meaningless."
He knows how difficult this must be for him. Just because V is the human parts of Vergil doesn't mean that he's particularly adept at being honest, or forthcoming, or feeling feelings... cuz Vergil fucking sucks at those too. Nero does try to make the same approach work, listening quietly, giving him the time to get out what he wants to say.
He at once does and does not need the acknowledgement that whatever V is to him, it doesn't take away from Vergil. In fact, he finds himself deeply, deeply relieved to hear it. These are anxieties he didn't even realize he was feeling, but giving them a name has made them suddenly far more intense and looming in their dread. The last thing he wants is for some kind of spat to form between the two. Wouldn't that affect something, logically? Would V becoming angry or upset with Nero translate over to Vergil's feelings, too? He's barely found his father (and his shadow), the last thing he needs is to alienate him (or his shadow.)
Nero waits until V seems to be done speaking. Mercifully, he doesn't leave him hanging to sit there and wonder if what he said was being accepted or rejected.
"Yeah." Okay, it isn't the most in-depth response, but he does at least elaborate a bit. "You're right. I don't... know what we are, but I know we're not nothing."
He glances over at V. "You're not nothing. We'll... see what happens, I guess."
V feels as pathetic as he looks in the short time between ending his words, his long stream of words that he barely controlled, and Nero's response. He may as well have eviscerated himself and offered his organs to Nero, how raw it feels. How quickly that could turn to rejection and crumble to dust.
One word, and his feeling feel foolish. Childish even. Nero has never treated him cruelly and helped him where Dante focused on the mission, on Urizen, on (in his mind) Vergil. Nero is not the person to reject V out of hand. If he were, they would not be on this walk or having this conversation. A simple exchange about being busy caring for Vergil and Dante would have been enough. V would have respected that answer and left. Instead, it's this uncertain unsteady footing.
"That may be the most apt description of me I've heard," V remarks dryly. Not nothing, no matter what Vergil thought in the moment he discarded V. He's the human weakness left behind and more. That weakness is more than weakness. Without his need for others, his experience asking for help, he could not have reached out to Nero as he had. As he is.
"We have the time," V says. They're walking nowhere so far as he knows. It's farther from the parts of Epiphany he's become familiar with. They walk, and V has no further idea what they might do together—eat? fight? Nero rejected the idea of the arcade (just as well, V cares little for the location on a personal level, more at ease in a bookstore or library). "I'm in a guest cabin near Elder Mother Station. Until I find more permanent housing."
Nero is new to this "family" thing, but not to that raw, awful feeling of vulnerability. Of offering oneself to someone, wholly and sincerely. Too many times he's felt it, only to have the gesture thrown back in his face, or otherwise violently rejected somewhere down the line. He would be conscious of such a gesture coming from anyone, much less the shadow of his own father.
He shrugs and offers an awkward little smirk at V's observation. Nero doesn't consider himself particularly profound but sometimes he does hit the nail on the head.
So V is nearby... but Vergil notably didn't ask him to live with them. Yeah, Nero ain't touching that with a 20 foot pole, nor even bringing the idea up.
"I hope it's a nice cabin at least," he says. "That's not that far, right? That's good. If you end up needing anything you should let me know, now that you know where the house is."
Appropriate that Nero would identify what V is better than Vergil in some regards. Vergil knows V inside and out, having been him, yet that also leaves him too close. He's too close to V to understand everything—to understand the idea of a future where V persists. They're awkward around each other and mean something, but neither of them ventures to put it into words. Nero goes there and hits it in one. He seemed less powerful, less trained, less familiar with his power than Vergil or Dante, but he's more... something.
V only observes for now. Everything is too tenuous to say anything about anything. V doesn't know Nero the way Vergil or Dante does. Say the wrong thing, and what little they have could evaporate. Get cut. Cast off.
"It's nicer than anything I've known," V says. He may push the limits of how long one is expected to stay. The Lapine neighborhood is also close. He may wind up there, living in a burrow like a hobbit. The housing in Folkmore is all adequate, what V has seen of it, but he chose the guest cabin because it's close to the neighborhood Vergil said they lived in. He's stayed for that reason. "You too should call on me if you need something."
Something Vergil and Dante cannot provide. So pretty much, nothing.
"Low bar. I mean, what... I guess you just kind of... showed up... kicked around Red Grave for a month..." Nero drifts off, realizing he is only mostly sure of the timeline of V's existence. He was comatose for part of it, after all. Thanks, Dad. He's also not sure how lighthearted remarks about it will be taken.
"Anyway." Change subject, quick. "I will. You know where I could get some goddamn sedatives? The two of them are the biggest, whiniest babies in the world right now and one afternoon of peace and quiet could do us all a favor. Talk about manflu."
It's not a sore topic for V. He'd gladly share that the local riffraff made themselves known attacking him so that he could steal enough of their money to hire Dante. Dante still took money, even if Nero hadn't. After they parted ways, Red Grave City was worse off than before. However, the fewer people made it easier when the demons weren't attacking him. If the food worse. Don't eat demons, kids, not if you can help it.
He says none of it because Nero veers away into another topic entirely unrelated. Nero doesn't have to know more than he wants to or be reminded of anything unpleasant, like the reason he was in the hospital in the first place. The question makes him consider the individuals he's interacted with and the various people offering services.
"Could check out the hospital wing at Amrita Academy," V says, "People keep recommending I go there." Except his health isn't an issue so readily solved at a hospital. They can't fix a soul being ripped in two, and V doesn't want them to fix it if they can. Vergil and V in Folkmore may be awkward, but two Vergils would be undoubtedly worse.
He smiles and shakes his head a little at the pun. It sounds like something Griffon would say. "Have you considered hitting them over the head really hard? That could do the trick."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
V offers his assistance, and Nero is sorely tempted to ask if he's got a gag or two handy.
"They're about to be left on the side of the road somewhere if I don't get out of this house." To further make the point, Nero steps outside and closes the door behind him. "What kind of distraction?"
no subject
Nero steps forward, and V takes a half-step back to give him more space. It's well and good except that Nero asks what distraction he means. The question implied V came for Nero and had ideas in mind, a sound choice if only he'd made it. Instead he wracks his mind for a distraction, one that Nero might like and would not exhaust V. Something active, if only to give them more to do than stare at each other uncomfortably. He knows so little of Folkmore.
"I've heard tell of an arcade in Epiphany but not gone," V suggests. His only other ideas involve eating food. That has too much of simply sitting with each other, with no distraction save to take a bite of food in a bid for time. He shrugs. He doesn't need anything of Nero besides Nero. They could row a boat on a lake for all he cares. There's more conversations they need to have, he suspects, than one day can handle. That day may not even be today.
no subject
What a very familiar maneuver that is.
For a moment he looks at V, a little bemused, as though trying to read something in his face. What he's thinking, maybe. Whether or not he knows who Nero is-- though the fact Vergil's spoken to him means that the information probably came up. What he might think about that. Just when the moment starts to draw out uncomfortably long, he smiles and turns back into the house.
"Gimme a sec. I'll grab my stuff."
He emerges a few minutes later, pulling on his jacket and more certain than ever that the Sparda family all needs a couple hours' break from each other. For safety reasons.
"Let's go for a walk and see where we end up," he offers. "I need the fresh air and. Well. Guess we probably ought to catch up, huh?"
no subject
On the one hand, Nero implicitly agrees to spend time with V. On the other hand, it says nothing about the specific offer. V's not especially tied to the idea of an arcade, so it's overall a win. Nero talking with him and continuing to talk with him after what conversations they need to have is the real victory. Not that V would have softballed any challenges in the arcade to let Nero win in order to curry favor. No, any victory would be earned fairly. The same as it feels this win is.
V reads a little poetry while Nero gets his things and closes the book, tucking it away, as the door opens. Since all he sees different is the jacket, V supposes Nero likely checked on his patients and made sure they were ready to brave the world for a short span on their own without anyone caring for them. Knowing the Sparda twins, they would manage no matter what, but as Nero plays babysitter and nursemaid, perhaps not to his satisfaction.
He nods and starts walking... no direction in particular. As much as this part of Epiphany is his most explored, V has no destination in mind. Perhaps not Catfe, as he's already spent hours there today, but that's hardly direction. "There was a great deal we did not have time to speak of while making our way through the qliphoth tree," V comments, "It would do us both good to talk."
Vergil's summary of the rest of that day did not cover Nero's arm regrowing, perhaps not important a topic, but more to the point, there's how V treated Nero. It's not the relationship he wants with Nero now. "If there's any topic you most want to discuss, we can talk about it first."
no subject
Vergil and V. It seems... rude somehow to conflate the two, but how can he not?
"You're looking a lot better. That's good," he remarks. "Though. Hard to look worse than you did last time I saw you, huh?"
Well, that's a hell of an icebreaker. But Nero's good at those.
"So is this... weird for you? With Vergil and all?"
no subject
He's not irritated with Nero over it. The remark probably means little, other than something to say. Perhaps along a similar line of 'you have twice as many arms as last time I saw you.' V will pass on saying as much.
"It's... unexpected," V says, "I never considered the possibility of meeting Vergil. His existence would mean both I succeeded and I no longer existed. Yet he was one of the people I met my first day in this place."
So there was no time to consider the odds of Vergil coming to or being in Folkmore. All the other vast amounts of information flooded at him was enough. He should have thought that far in advance. Except, Vergil isn't a threat, nor his presence a risk to V's well being. Not on Vergil's account.
"We're managing."
no subject
"What's the last thing you remember?" he asks, going off the hunch. At least it should prevent him from saying anything else really stupid, or... dropping any truthbombs he doesn't mean to, come to think of it.
"Did Vergil catch you up on everything?"
no subject
"Vergil told me what he thought I needed to know," V answers that question first. "After I merged with Urizen, he and Dante left you to finish destroying the qliphoth roots in the demon realm."
That summarizes it really. A single sentence without notably more detail. His lips curl up. "I know that must leave a great deal out, even of what I cannot remember. I'd just caught Malphas's attention and thought it likely my mission would fail."
Someone saved him. It's the only explanation for how he'd make it farther. V considers Nero again. Process of elimination would suggest it was him. Dante forged ahead without waiting for them, and everyone else remained in the van. Yet it's too large a thing to assume based purely on that logic, when so much happened that chaotic day.
no subject
V is then at least good enough to be more specific. So he was told about the twins fucking off and leaving Nero behind. Doesn't really clarify some of the more important bits...
"Malphas..." Nero murmurs. "That ugly bird freak? With the chicks on the back?" He remembers, of course. Just didn't catch her... its... their name? "I strung her up like a rotisserie and stuck a fork in her."
His tone gets a little more solemn. "Then you were... dying. Crumbling to bits. You asked me to take you to Urizen, so I did. Then the whole... pillar of light and Vergil bit, yeah."
no subject
No, it seems. As difficult a time as V has now, dying and crumbling to bits is not a sustainable state to be in. Despite the burn in his chest, he inclines his head in recognition of what Nero says. Words take longer.
His legs carry him down the river of emotion that threatens to sweep him away. Nero was the key. Even if Dante was strong enough to defeat Urizen that day without Nero's help, V wouldn't have succeeded without Nero. Vergil wouldn't exist without him. They both owe him their lives. He had no idea how right that feeling was to go to Fortuna that night Dante lost to Urizen.
"Thank you," V says seriously. "You did more than I ever hoped."
no subject
"Um... sure. You're welcome." He reaches up to itch his nose, a nervous tic. "It wasn't a big deal. We were all on the same team."
He... thinks so, anyway.
no subject
It was a big deal, but V isn't going to reinforce that. It's no larger or smaller for shying away from it in conversation. Nor does he feel any less... everything about it. It matters to him.
"We were," V confirms. Save the world. Fix his mistake. Whichever lens best suited the person in question, the outcome was the same. Whatever else he did, whatever lies he told, V was always honest that he wanted to stop Urizen's reckless pursuit of power and that he needed help to do so.
no subject
Nero never pictured himself as manipulated or tricked during the Red Grave incident. He didn't need any convincing or prodding for a shot at avenging himself on Urizen-- even if the decision to abscond from his hospital room put him in the doghouse with Kyrie for the next month. He was, of course, absolutely in the dark when it came to the true meaning of events and the true nature of the enemy they faced. But that was as much Dante's doing as it was V's. He even sort of understands why Dante lied by omission, at this point.
It's less clear to him why V kept things so close to the chest, apart from the sheer unbelievable audacity of his story. Would Nero or Dante have even believed him if he did tell the truth? It probably wouldn't have changed any of Nero's actions or choices. And now, he certainly can't deny that, short of the entire mess being prevented from the beginning, things ended about as well as they could have under the circumstances. They all lived. Vergil lived. And V... Well. He's alive now, anyway.
"What else did Vergil tell you?" he asks, nearing what he thinks might be the real crux of the matter. "About me?"
no subject
It's not time yet for V to ask questions. He offered to answer questions for Nero, and the next question is entirely reasonable. If V hadn't spoken with Vergil yet or if Vergil said nothing of the matter, Nero would be in the position to reveal the truth to V—the alternative being to wait for Thirteen to do so. It's too shocking a revelation to be left alone.
"When we first met, I knew you had to be a Sparda," V says. "I assumed at the time you were Dante's. After speaking with Vergil, I know I was wrong."
He words it carefully, neither claiming nor rejecting Nero as his. He's had days—days!—to think about it, and it still confounds him. Oh, not how it happened. He understands when that happened, but what it means for him and Nero? It elevates the uncertainty between them to a whole new level.
V looks over at Nero. "Foolish though it may be, it was more confounding to learn than anything about this place."
no subject
Like, okay. Nero had also known, in some respect, that he was probably related to the Sparda line. White hair? Superpowers? It's not like there are all that many other demon hybrids running around. But he supposed it never occurred to him how very few there were.
For a long time he, too, wondered if Dante might be his father. He was old enough, and they looked similarly, and had so much in common... but Nero also assumed that Dante would have told him so, were that the case. (In hindsight he wonders why he assumed that, given Dante acts like being straightforward with Nero will actually kill him more often than not. Not unjustifiably, Nero suspects, but still...) But it still surprises him to hear that V-- a shade of his own father-- assumed that as well.
(This whole V business is fucking weird, make no mistake, but it does provide some deeper insight into Vergil... a fact Nero suspects Vergil probably hates.)
V's words leave him a little caught off guard. He frowns, raising an eyebrow. "Confounding how? What do you mean?"
no subject
He is not sure how much thought Nero has given him or more accurately them, their relationship. If the boy has a clear idea of what he wants or does not, it would be simpler no matter what that answer is. V could set aside any thoughts of his own as to what it could be and accept what it is. Until then, the ground is unsteady at best and threatens to crumble.
"Oh, I know whence you come," V says, "I did not have all my memories when we first met, but they've stitched themselves together with time. It simply complicates what we might mean to each other—
"A question I don't expect an answer to today or by any certain date. You have more than enough on your hands right now."
He motions behind them toward the house and its patients they left behind. It's an issue Vergil is no help on. Vergil made clear he's Nero's father, and V is glad for him, for them both. In the long run, when they leave this place, it is no issue, but for as much of a life as V has, it's an answer he'll have to find. He doesn't even know what it would be, should Nero leave it entirely in his hands.
no subject
He feels a sudden pang at that thought. Pictures Vergil's face crumbling to hear it spoken aloud. Is it possible to cheat on your dad with a weird supernatural remnant of himself?
But at the same time, is that fair to V? He'd described him to Kyrie as "everything good in Vergil." It feels quite cruel to deny that, to deny the sprouting feelings and realizations that would, theoretically, blossom into the way Vergil feels about Nero now. And even without any fucky-wucky time bullshit factored in, it feels wrong to treat V as a castoff, as a lesser person. Even if he literally is.
God. He went from having zero parents to having a father and a half and not knowing how the fuck to handle that. Ain't that just the way?
After a moment of silence, awkward fretting, glancing at V here and again, he finally lets out a quiet sigh.
"Well. Okay. What might I mean to you, then?" He folds his arms, looking a little self-conscious. "I'm not... sure how we should deal with this."
no subject
The question gets turned back on V, both eminently reasonable and imminently uncomfortable. Entirely unavoidable as well. It's only natural that Nero's opinion of what he wants would be influenced by what V wants. The question that stares him down in the mirror (when other people are not busy appearing in said mirror) in many iterations: what does he want? what does it mean?
"I must first preface that whatever relationship we might develop does nothing to undermine, demean, or lessen your relationship with Vergil in any regard," V says, "He is your father, and I am given to understand he has worked hard to make amends, gain your trust, and take on that mantle."
No one has implied V would do so, but his presence alone impacts their lives. The ties between him and Vergil cannot be cut, only acknowledged.
"Handling Urizen, I lacked the time to consider what you or Dante might mean to me. You would mean nothing if I failed, and it all seemed like it could wait until then—despite the fact that means until the point I no longer existed as myself," V says. It's so hard to speak of the matter itself, but he cannot speak around it entirely. "Even should you ever decide I mean nothing more than a stranger to you, you will always mean something to me. Something more than the means to stop Urizen and correct my mistake."
The word hangs in his mind.
"Family, I expect. The shape that might take remains more nebulous. Father, uncle, brother, they rise and fall as questions. As something we might be. The only clear thing about it is that whatever we are will take time and effort." His heart races, as though he's running and fighting with all his might. It's only one foot in front of the other, and that feels challenging at the moment. V leans on his cane at the immensity of what he's said.
"A title without what comes behind it is meaningless."
no subject
He at once does and does not need the acknowledgement that whatever V is to him, it doesn't take away from Vergil. In fact, he finds himself deeply, deeply relieved to hear it. These are anxieties he didn't even realize he was feeling, but giving them a name has made them suddenly far more intense and looming in their dread. The last thing he wants is for some kind of spat to form between the two. Wouldn't that affect something, logically? Would V becoming angry or upset with Nero translate over to Vergil's feelings, too? He's barely found his father (and his shadow), the last thing he needs is to alienate him (or his shadow.)
Nero waits until V seems to be done speaking. Mercifully, he doesn't leave him hanging to sit there and wonder if what he said was being accepted or rejected.
"Yeah." Okay, it isn't the most in-depth response, but he does at least elaborate a bit. "You're right. I don't... know what we are, but I know we're not nothing."
He glances over at V. "You're not nothing. We'll... see what happens, I guess."
no subject
One word, and his feeling feel foolish. Childish even. Nero has never treated him cruelly and helped him where Dante focused on the mission, on Urizen, on (in his mind) Vergil. Nero is not the person to reject V out of hand. If he were, they would not be on this walk or having this conversation. A simple exchange about being busy caring for Vergil and Dante would have been enough. V would have respected that answer and left. Instead, it's this uncertain unsteady footing.
"That may be the most apt description of me I've heard," V remarks dryly. Not nothing, no matter what Vergil thought in the moment he discarded V. He's the human weakness left behind and more. That weakness is more than weakness. Without his need for others, his experience asking for help, he could not have reached out to Nero as he had. As he is.
"We have the time," V says. They're walking nowhere so far as he knows. It's farther from the parts of Epiphany he's become familiar with. They walk, and V has no further idea what they might do together—eat? fight? Nero rejected the idea of the arcade (just as well, V cares little for the location on a personal level, more at ease in a bookstore or library). "I'm in a guest cabin near Elder Mother Station. Until I find more permanent housing."
no subject
He shrugs and offers an awkward little smirk at V's observation. Nero doesn't consider himself particularly profound but sometimes he does hit the nail on the head.
So V is nearby... but Vergil notably didn't ask him to live with them. Yeah, Nero ain't touching that with a 20 foot pole, nor even bringing the idea up.
"I hope it's a nice cabin at least," he says. "That's not that far, right? That's good. If you end up needing anything you should let me know, now that you know where the house is."
no subject
V only observes for now. Everything is too tenuous to say anything about anything. V doesn't know Nero the way Vergil or Dante does. Say the wrong thing, and what little they have could evaporate. Get cut. Cast off.
"It's nicer than anything I've known," V says. He may push the limits of how long one is expected to stay. The Lapine neighborhood is also close. He may wind up there, living in a burrow like a hobbit. The housing in Folkmore is all adequate, what V has seen of it, but he chose the guest cabin because it's close to the neighborhood Vergil said they lived in. He's stayed for that reason. "You too should call on me if you need something."
Something Vergil and Dante cannot provide. So pretty much, nothing.
no subject
"Anyway." Change subject, quick. "I will. You know where I could get some goddamn sedatives? The two of them are the biggest, whiniest babies in the world right now and one afternoon of peace and quiet could do us all a favor. Talk about manflu."
Nero pauses. "De-manflu. Heh."
no subject
He says none of it because Nero veers away into another topic entirely unrelated. Nero doesn't have to know more than he wants to or be reminded of anything unpleasant, like the reason he was in the hospital in the first place. The question makes him consider the individuals he's interacted with and the various people offering services.
"Could check out the hospital wing at Amrita Academy," V says, "People keep recommending I go there." Except his health isn't an issue so readily solved at a hospital. They can't fix a soul being ripped in two, and V doesn't want them to fix it if they can. Vergil and V in Folkmore may be awkward, but two Vergils would be undoubtedly worse.
He smiles and shakes his head a little at the pun. It sounds like something Griffon would say. "Have you considered hitting them over the head really hard? That could do the trick."