PreciousPrincess

It was no secret that Vergil was attempting to make amends and find his place within his sons and brothers life; for the most part Vergil was doing great at this! The man was adapting well to human society (minus a few hiccups) and he was beginning to feel more comfortable stepping up into a fatherly role with Nero. The steps taken were slow and clumsy yet they were there and housed in a locked part of Nero's heart.

Nero could never let his father know how much he appreciated the role he tried to take on. It was never for a lack of wanting to - merely because the words died in his throat and morphed into sarcastic flippant displays. Instead the two would dance around each other in a myriad of ways, sarcastic and curt words enveloping their relationship and cutting the growth.

It was always a surprise when they found themselves in true familial dynamics; Vergil letting out soft praises, Nero laying his head on the mans shoulder, either of them looking back for a kick a validation. The pure domesticity of it all made them want to fold inwards, morph into origami and become someone new who didn't preen and cower at the mere idea of a family life.

Family was such a complicated topic to anyone within the Sparda bloodline, while blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb it doesn't erase every tie that brought them together and strangled them for four decades. It doesn't erase the tie that dragged Nero and Vergil together, it doesn't erase the shattered promise that was whispered to his lover, water does wash blood away afterall.

The day was treacherous, Nero and Vergil were forced to work together on a mission that Dante couldn't attend (granted he could, his lies were clearer than glass). It's not even like the mission had gone horribly though, it was quick easy work that they got done within a couple hours - the snag was purely their clunky dance that happened every time there was silence between them. It felt like a game of cat and mouse, who would break first and admit their soul was desperately wanting a proper relationship?

Nero let his body fall onto the couch, thighs propped up from the arm rest of the furniture as the rest of his legs hung off. "Never let me go on a mission with you without Dante again," the words were muffled under the cushion but still well enough heard for Vergil to let out a scoff.

"I didn't think it was that horrid." Vergil let himself collapse into the couch, though he was more proper with his actions - one leg crossed over the other while his head tilts back against the headrest. Normally, he'd reach for something to read, whether that be his old poetry books or the newer psychology ones he found interest in when studying how people behaved - how he should behave. Today though, he humored his son as he watched the boy flip him off before dropping his arm back down again.

A groan echoed off the cushions before Nero dragged himself further onto the couch, his body curling slightly while his head found solace on his fathers thigh. "Of course it wasn't the fucking mission, it's just-" Nero cut himself off as he wiped a hand down his face, his words were stuck in his throat once again and it was so infuriating.

How were the two ever meant to move on if their limbo was ongoing due to emotional blockage? It's not like Nero didn't want to develop a better relationship with Vergil, every fiber of his being yearned for a father; late on sleepless nights he'd find himself staring at nothing just wanting his dad to fill the role he lacked within childhood. On those nights his brain would imagine his father petting his hair and reading him poetry out of his old leather book. It didn't matter what it was his mind would play scenarios that left him feeling so small and young but brought immense comfort - even if sorrow leaked in through cracks.

It all sounded so stupid and nonsensical when Nero thought about it later after finally resting.

"Take your time," absentmindedly Vergil found himself brushing through Nero's hair, his fingertips gently scratching at the boys scalp. A fissure within the iron walls Nero put up on those nights was developing. The boy hated how this was the only way they could get this far, through nonthinking affections where their souls were the only things guiding the way.

A shaky breath was taken, "I hate that we are the way we are. I want to have a better relationship with you but it feels like," Nero paused as his brain reeled and screamed for him to stop admitting every secret it wove perfectly. Words were beginning to fall from the script and jump around - he needs to calm down.

"It feels as if we are so incompatible and I worry that we will never truly be like other dads I saw growing up. It hurts too 'cause that's all I ever wanted, all I still want sometimes." Nero rolled onto his back, looking up at his father finally and Saviour does it hurt to see the man looking back down at him with so much grief and love. "Sometimes, I worry you don't want to be my dad and that I'll never get those dads like I saw in books growing up. Y'know?"

Nero shifted his gaze, opting to now stare at anything except Vergil. The boy couldn't stand seeing the man so openly display his emotions, it felt like something not meant for him. "From the moment I knew you were my son I wanted to be better for you." The words were quiet and accompanied by a hand cupping Nero's cheek, it felt foreign yet so genuinely loving. "I didn't want to overstep or make things worse by trying to be your dad; I was too blinded with the idea that I would lose you."

Vergil had a knack for making everything he spoke sound so poetic, it was something that Nero wished he had gotten from his father. Nero's words were always too blunt and rough as if he was intentionally being rude, "stop being so unsure, it's unlike you."

That seemed to be all permission that Vergil needed as he rubbed at Nero's cheek with his thumb and gave him a kiss to his forehead, "my sweet boy, I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you when you were younger." Vergil's mask seemed to melt away with his words, the icy front he held softening into snow as he gazed upon his son. Sweet boy, the word echoed in Nero's head as he looked up at his dad; the boy felt so small in his fathers arms - almost as if he truly was a little boy.

Finally, Nero was able to have the dad he always wanted, the one who would save him from the orphanage and tell him those kids were wrong about his mommy. The one who would smile at him as if he wasn't a freak. The one who would teach him he didn't have to fight for attention and love and worth. The one who made him feel as if he was worth something. One who simply loved him.

It felt foreign and strange, the hope blooming in his chest ached for his dad to bundle him up and tell him he was his little boy who didn't have to worry anymore. The shame in his throat battled and screamed at him though, it wanted to rip everything away and force Nero to get his ass in gear. This was no way for a former soldier of The Order to act nor a devil hunter. Neither version of him should be wanting so desperately to give into the cotton invading his synapses and let himself feel so small and be taken care of by his papa.

Vergil furrowed his eyebrows, watching as Nero's gaze flicked around his face tears welling up in his eyes, "what's wrong sweetheart?" There it was, the breaker of the boys walls. Nero quickly forced himself onto his side and shoved his face into his dads cotton shirt letting his walls begin to fall apart quicker than he could put them together. It felt so shameful and embarrassing to no longer be the epitome of a soldier and instead a little sobbing boy. Nero needed to bury this feeling, let nobody see him act upon it lest he be shamed.

"Nero, sweets, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong." Was he doing this on purpose? Nero shook his head against his father's hip, biting back the sobs that wanted to spill. Shame was pressing on his chest and he wanted it gone, he can't let his dad win and have the shame grow. Vergil bounced his leg, a classic fatherly prompt and it shattered the walls that were so perfectly set up. Nero grasped at Vergils shirt as the flood rushed through his system, his sobs bitten into the cotton as a (failed) attempt at not disturbing his papa.

All Nero wanted was his papa to make these awful feelings go away, to fix what was wrong with him. "What's wrong baby, talk to papa." He knew what he was doing. Months of psychology books gave him a baseline for most things so he knew possibly what caused things and the vague signs. Vergil could tell from the wider than usual stare, the light lisp, the emotional whiplash much like a child - Nero was rapidly regressing.

Regression, it was so briefly mentioned in a random psych book he read that Vergil wasn't too sure about anything of it besides old scientists vague hunches of what caused it. At the time he noted the complexities of the human brain and moved on, now he wanted to curse every psychologist that didn't bother to write further about this phenomenon. A soothing hand ran down Nero's back making him shudder, "I know so many feelings, hm?" Vergil spoke softly, attempting to soothe the poor boys sobs with every ounce of softness he knew how to exude.

It wasn't a lot.

Nero sniffled and tugged at Vergils shirt, peeking up at the man from his spot pressed into his waist. "Papa 'm feel yucky," Nero let his thumb slip between his lips as he raised the other up, he needed to be cuddled ASAP or more tears may fall. Everything felt like too much, shame still ravaged the recesses of his mind and it wanted so desperately to be listened to. "Hold, please." The end of his 'please' lilted from his teary voice - it broke something in Vergil and before either could process Nero was bundled in his arms.

"My poor baby," Vergil pressed kisses to Nero's temple, a mimicry of something Eva did to the boys when they were younger. For now Vergil would mime others, so long as it helped his baby boy he would do whatever. "So so little and dealing with so much, it's okay papa is here." Vergil ran a hand down Nero's back and swayed them both.

hello, i am percy / Περσευς (perseus). i am a fictive and very connected to source! please be respectful, i don't mind sourcemates but don't treat me differently due to my source! i am a big brother and dad caregiver and love taking care of my little ones.

please do not use titles for me, i'm taken by my wife @brrymama and not looking. i also am not open to babysitting!

my account is an sfw safe place for caregivers and regressors, and i occasionally fulfill requests for moodboards or concepts as long as they are sfw.

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