Chapter Nine: Tranquility

Chapter Nine: Tranquility

Note: I had such a good laugh reading the comments for the last chapter! SkylarMorgan1899, HunterJamie, Mallovarwen, He Who Wanders, and Aureux all made wonderful points and observations, and I can’t wait until we reach the point in the story where we start to cover the topics you mentioned. Don’t worry everyone, it’s only going to get better from here! Thanks for checking out the story.

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Vergil watched the van pull off and head down the street with a note of finality to his posture. Although they had succeeded in revitalizing V, there was still much to do, and the eldest Son of Sparda couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Though he would never show it outwardly, something about this situation did not sit well with him. Despite the fact that he had very little prior experience to go on, he was confident that he could trust Nero to keep a close eye on his eldest son. And yet, there was still apprehension. But was it directed at Nero or some unknown source of anxiety? His lack of control over the situation wasn’t something he was used to, but this was something distinctly different that added to his misgivings.

He couldn’t understand how he knew it, but something was going to happen soon.

And he had no idea what to do about it. That unnerved him more than anything.

Relinquishing control over a situation was not something that Vergil was accustomed to, and this was not the environment that he would prefer to learn in, but he had no choice. His son had made a valid point when he had pointed out that they could not bring V here in his current state. He was vulnerable, and being in a building that was practically a hub for supernatural entities wasn’t a very good idea. But to have them both so far from reach should his premonitions prove true? It wasn’t ideal in the slightest.

Dante flung open the front doors of the office and headed over to his desk. As he plopped down into his trusty chair, his older twin entered the building and closed the door behind himself. The Youngest Son of Sparda used his thumb to gesture towards the door that led to the back area of the office.

“Pretty sure I forgot to mention that the bathroom is back there. It’s across from the spare room,” Dante paused at the statement, something evidently occurring to him. A slight smirk crossed his face for a second before he continued,” Well, it was the spare room. Guess it’s yours now. Mine’s upstairs. The kitchen is around where Nero went earlier.”

Dante tilted his head in the direction Nero had gone the day before and watched Vergil’s gaze cross silently between the door and the kitchen’s general area. He then nodded slightly and approached the backroom door. After pausing for a moment, he opened it and disappeared behind it without a word. The action wasn’t aggressive or born of malcontent, and as such there was no agitation or ill will behind it. Simply silence. The younger twin kicked his feet up onto the desk as he heard a second door open and close. He hadn’t done so very loudly. It was simply a case of unreasonably good hearing on Dante’s part.

After a few minutes of total silence apart from the negligible noise made by the ceiling fans, Dante began to doze off. Just as he was passing over the cusp of consciousness, it suddenly occurred to him that it had been entirely too quiet for far too long. He pulled his legs down from the desk and stood up, uneager to find out what his identical twin was up to. He approached the backroom door and opened it to find the adjacent bathroom door closed. Across from it was the door to the bedroom on this floor, and it was slightly cracked open. Unless Vergil had slipped out of the window at the end of the hallway (which was unlikely since there were blinds attached to it), Dante was willing to guess he had gone into the bedroom.

The Youngest Son of Sparda leaned forward and pushed on the door, not considering the fact that he should have probably knocked until the door was a third of the way open. When his brother didn’t throw Yamato through the door and impale him, Dante decided to test the waters and see just how far his luck would hold. He craned his neck over to one side and peeped into the room, curious to see what Vergil could be up to that had held his normally barely contained wrath at bay for this long.

For the most part, the space was furnished very basically. A standing wardrobe sat in one corner, and a matching bed with two accompanying bedside tables spanned the space in the middle of the grey painted room. Black linen covered the bed and the somewhat dusty blinds that covered the only window in the room were closed, lending the medium-sized space a rather dark atmosphere. As his eyes settled upon the relatively dark space, Dante stopped, surprised by the sight he found before him.

Laying in the middle of the bed was Vergil.

And he was very clearly fast asleep.

It honestly hadn’t occurred to Dante before that his brother might be tired. After all, the two of them hadn’t lived together since they were children, and the eldest of Sparda’s two sons had never been one to let his mental or physical state of mind slip through the cracks. Vergil had been awake every moment since his restoration, and that had been quite a while now. At least the better part of four days. And unlike Dante, he had never sat down and allowed himself to rest. It was as if he avoided sleeping on purpose...

Dante shook his head and backed out of the room, deciding that returning to his office was probably the best course of action he could take at the moment. He could use a nap himself. He carefully eased the door closed and ventured back down the hallway, flopping back into his favorite chair. His legs returned to their natural state on his desk and he picked up a magazine to read. He had no doubt that he would be joining Vergil shortly.

-~-

Like most living beings, V had done his fair share of things that he had come to regret later on. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, after all, and that was simply how things were. But V was now absolutely cursing his brain for its lack of functional cognitive capacity at this particularly given interval.

Not very long after Nero and Kyrie had left the room, V had gotten dressed in the spare clothes that she had brought him and he had decided to get up and explore the house. This was a decision that was complicated slightly by the fact that his head felt like it was underwater, his eyes seemed to be photosensitive, and he had barely any feeling in his body at all as of present, especially his legs. He had taken a few blind, careful steps towards the door to his bedroom, only to find that he grew progressively weaker with every step he took at an alarming rate. It had presumably taken the very last of his startlingly low energy reserves for him to stand up straight against nothing and open the door towards himself to try and step out into the foyer, because the second he did so he felt unmistakably faint. And that had been the last coherent sensation he had experienced before he careened towards the floor.

With seemingly perfect timing, Nero had come past him and managed to grab him mere moments before he would have otherwise collapsed and more than likely bashed his head against the entryway pavers. The youngest descendant of Sparda braced him against himself to keep him from falling almost lifelessly onto the ground before trying to rouse him and making no progress. Nero shook his head and knelt down further so that he could get a better grip on V before carefully lifting him and throwing him over his shoulder. He then stood up with him and reopened the door to the guest room, entering with the intention of putting him back where he belonged. As soon as he was safely back in the bed, Nero left the room and headed for the phone that hung on the wall between the kitchen and the entryway. He removed the small semi-gloss piece of paper that Magnolia had given him from his pocket and examined it carefully, gleaning everything he could from it and storing it away in his mind for later. He then dialed the number on the note and waited. After two rings or, the line picked up.

“Hello! This is Magnolia’s Aromatics and Herbalists. You seem to be calling from my personal line instead of the store line, so I assume I gave you my card?”

Nero nodded to himself. Duly noted. He needed a second line like this. Having one number made his life a bit more difficult than it probably needed to be, and that was a sentiment that he knew Dante shared due to Patty’s insistent phone calls alone. He should bring that up to him at a later date. “Hey, it’s Nero. I just had a couple of questions about-”

“Oh! Hello dear! Wonderful to hear from you,” She interjected cheerfully, not quite letting him finish, but unaware of her mistake,” Is this about your brother, then?”

“Yea it is,” He confirmed, absent-mindedly glancing back at the bedroom door,” All the stuff you said he might go through happened, and then some. I’m pretty sure he fainted when he tried to get up and walk around. And his memory seems a little patchy in a couple of places. Is that normal?”

She paused for a moment as if taking in his words before answering again. “Yes, that does tend to happen. Anything he has forgotten should return gradually along with his powers and the like. What did he forget specifically? Did he say?”

Nero considered his next question carefully before turning his attention back to the phone. He probably needed to go and check on V again before he woke up and tried to come looking for them. That hadn’t gone very well the last time. “He forgot how he died and some of the stuff right before it, I think. Also, I don’t think he really has powers like that. He was using these demon summons things and he had, like, these magic tattoos or something. But I’ve never seen him use any other kind of powers. I don’t know, I could be wrong. I don’t know how most of this kinda shit works. I just kill demons.”

Magnolia stayed silent for a long moment as she took in what Nero had just told her. Nero stared at the phone quietly, becoming more uneasy as the time passed. After a full minute of silence, he started to wonder if they had become disconnected. “Hey, are you still there?

After a brief pause, she answered. “Oh! Sorry about that. You just took me off guard, is all. You said he possessed summons that were linked to him via tattoos and that you’ve never seen him exhibit any signs of possessing demonic powers?” She seemed taken aback by the statement as if it were totally unheard of.

Nero couldn’t help but notice her change in demeanor. Had he said something he shouldn’t have? “Yea, he had two or three of them… that not good?”

She took a moment to think about what to say on the other end of the line. Nero could practically feel her thinking of a nice way to say that yes, it absolutely probably was bad. “Well, it depends entirely upon the strength of the summoner, the power of the demons, and what they require in return for their assistance,” She said in an almost matter of fact way,” Most demons require the soul of their host to form a contract, but that clearly wasn’t the case in this instance.”

The young man with the short white hair clenched his brow slightly at the statement. How did she-

“If a soul is claimed by a demon, then it goes to that demon the instant that they die. My spell wouldn’t have worked Regardless,” She said, seemingly noting that she hadn’t elaborated on that facet of her analysis,” I’m actually quite impressed. If he did maintain three demons, then he is quite strong, powers or not. Although I will have to look into the status of his abilities. A descendant of the Dark Knight Sparda with no demonic power seems entirely impossible, especially if he’s your older brother. It’s extraordinarily uncommon. Perhaps his inborn gifts are simply… dormant.”

Nero nodded to himself. That made practical sense to him. But then how had V gotten demons that tough to safeguard him? In his experience, demons didn’t normally just go along with the requests of those they deemed weaker than them, especially those of mixed blood. They were much quicker to just try and bash your skull in. Another question for another time, then. That list was growing.

“Ok, well, I’m gonna go check on him. I’ll let you know if anything happens,” Nero said as he looked towards V’s door. He could have sworn he heard something…

“Good idea. Make sure he gets plenty of rest. Food and water would be a good idea as well, although I’m not optimistic about him being able to actually keep food down,” She said reassuringly,” Don’t worry yourself sick over him. I have a good feeling about him. We can speak on this again later on when he’s in better shape. Goodbye!”

Nero thanked her and excused himself before hanging up the phone. As soon as the phone was back on the receiver, Nero headed back over to the guest room door. As he inched the door open, he caught sight of V. The longer white-haired man was still partially lying in the bed, his head and upper torso against the wall. He was breathing slightly heavy and his hair was stuck to his face with sweat. Although he seemed to be awake, his eyes were closed and he was shivering slightly. It wasn’t very hard for Nero to make the educated guess that he was probably clammy and feeling very sick. After all, due to the thunderstorm that was rolling in from the mainland, the temperature on Fortuna island was actually quite frigid, all things considered. There was no reason that he should be sweating.

There was no need for further examination. He was just going to bring V something to drink and start there. Last he had checked, most people weren’t allergic to water, sick or not. Nero went into the kitchen and poured a glass of cold water out of the picture in the fridge. Dinner wouldn’t be ready for an hour or two and there was no leftover lasagna to offer him thanks to Dante and Vergil having been there to help eat it the night before, so Nero opted to just start with the water.

He opened the door slowly to find that not much had changed since he’d stepped away a moment ago. V had opened his eyes at the very least, so Nero was sure he was awake (unless he slept with his eyes open…) and he was shivering much less. Nero walked over to him and sat the glass down on the bedside table. He took a seat next to him on the side of the bed, taking a mental note of the fact that V seemed to be watching him without moving. Nero then gestured towards the glass of water.

“The woman that helped us bring you back says you should drink that and get some rest,” Nero said as he touched the back of his hand to V’s limp arm, the uninvited contact causing him to shiver,” I’m pretty sure you have a fever or something. You're kinda clammy…”

V shifted slightly and reached for the glass, giving Nero an almost appreciative glance. He carefully lifted the glass and took a sip before pausing for a moment. He then scarfed the cold liquid down quickly, clearly more thirsty than he had previously imagined. Nero watched and scoffed to himself. “Hey, um, are you trying to make yourself sicker than you already are?”

V placed the glass back onto the bedside table and allowed himself to sink into the wall. Exhaustion was clearly evident in his posture. After a moment, a look akin to nausea settled across his face and he closed his eyes in the hopes that this would somehow cause his discomfort to subside. After several moments of heavy, uncomfortably ragged breathing, he exhaled and slowly reopened his eyes. He met Nero’s gaze, the younger of the two clearly taken aback by his brother’s rapid and violent fluctuation in health. After a moment, V sighed and closed his eyes. He was now much more stable than he had been a few moments prior.

“...I don’t think I have ever been that thirsty in my entire life.” He said in an almost astounded tone of voice.

Nero shook his head and shrugged, trying subconsciously to shake off his discomfort. Magnolia had told him that this would pass, so he was just going to have to go with that. “I can’t imagine you have. You just drank that glass of water in a couple seconds flat.”

V nodded quietly as though he were confirming something to himself. He slowly pushed off the wall he had been propped up against and came to a sitting position, not falling forward dizzily like he had the first time he had tried to do that. The familiar look of deep thought that Nero had become so accustomed to settled back into its proper place on V’s face as he seemed to ponder something quietly to himself. The cursory action of parting his lips had just begun when his gaze left Nero and traveled to something behind him. Nero glanced over his shoulder to find Carlo standing in the doorway, his small body partially obscured by the door. His little face bore the unmistakable look of a small child who had just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been.

It took actual effort for Nero not to snicker at the startled look on his adopted child’s face. He could only imagine that Kyrie had told him not to come in here, but the adventurous child simply couldn’t help himself. He shifted uncomfortably back and forth for a moment, his eyes moving from Nero to V. A look of confusion and intrigue crossed his face as V craned his head to one side to get a better look at the small child. Nero called over to him and gestured for him to come into the room and he did so, using both of his hands to push the door closed behind himself.

Nero scooped the small child up and sat him between himself and V. The green-eyed man gave the curly-haired little boy a curious look before the child spoke loud and clear. “Hello! I’m Carlo. Do you live here now, too? Your new.”

V was genuinely amused by the forward way that the child had introduced himself to him, if you could call his question an introduction. He nodded very slowly, trying not to aggravate his barely contained nausea and vertigo. “I’m V. Wonderful to meet you, Carlo.”

The tiny child smiled brightly as Nero sat him down and pointed him in the direction of the front door. He hurried off, running out of the door as fast as his tiny little legs would carry him saying something about Kyrie need his help with dinner as he went. Nero nodded to himself as he stood up and grabbed the cup off of the bedside table before heading to the door. As he opened it, he turned back to V, shooting him a playful but serious look. “I’ll bring you some more water after I check-in with Kyrie. You keep your skinny ass in the bed and go back to sleep. I don’t want to catch you falling half-dead into the front hall again.”

Before V could respond to that statement, he closed the door and left. He needed to find out what Kyrie needed. V then leaned back against the wall again and closed his eyes. He would rest a moment until Nero returned.

-~-

Holy hell, I am so so sorry that this is as late as it is! I meant to have this up forever ago, but I was simply exhausted and didn’t get to it in time. I’m going to bed and I’ll be immediately working on the next chapter. Sorry if this one is 300 or so words shorter than my average chapters. I think quarantine is getting to me or something because I’m so sleepy most of the time now. Again, thank you for reading, and I can’t wait to see you in the next chapter on Friday. AND IT WILL BE ON TIME! Sorry for any errors. I was tired when I was editing this.