Devils Never Cry

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry's label, but I am the proud owner of the DMC1 & 3:SE game disc! Ha!

Author's Notes: One-shot between Dante and Vergil. They're around 6-7 years old and their father is still alive, even though he won't make an entrance in this story. Sorry, Sparda-sama! This is my first hand at WAFF (warm and fuzzy feelings), so I'm not 100 percent sure if it's good or not. Vergil seems too mature for your average first-grader, although he always plays the part. : ) Reviews would greatly help me though, so comment away! Enjoy!

"Vergil...!"

A 6-year old Dante pouted, searching the entire house for his older brother. He knew he had been warned not to touch his daddy's sword that was propped up inside of his parents' armoire, but boys will be boys; he hadn't listened at all. There was only one thing that was rotating around in his mind and that was getting the slender sword in his hands. He had seen his father wield that sword before, the detailed articulation on the hand grip and the sharpness and luster of the steel blade calling out to him like a moth to a flame. He just had to touch it.

He had sneaked up to his parents' bedroom when they left the house for some random occasion. Vergil, although the same age as his younger sibling, was left in charge of looking after Dante because of his contrast in maturity to the childish boy. Dante had scared away all of his previous babysitters, who had spread the word about the devil's spawn to other people, eliminating all chances of ever hiring another babysitter again. This didn't make Vergil all too happy. Babysitting was a girl's job, not for a boy like him.

"Mommy and Daddy told me to babysit you today, so don't go running off and getting yourself into trouble, okay? Stay put and don't even think about making a mess or else I'm going to tell Mommy on you." Vergil had told his brother, who, in turn, had nodded his head with a grin.

"Okay!" With Dante, it was usually one ear and out the other, and as expected, Vergil's stipulation was left ignored.

Dante twisted open the doorknob and pushed the door slowly, making sure that the hinge made as little of a squeaking noise as possible before wedging his small body inside the room. He tottered over to the side of the room where his father kept his sword and opened the wardrobe, revealing a sheathed sword lying at its tip.

"Wow. It looks so cool," his eyes sparkled with excitement as a grin appeared on his face. His father must've been a great swordsman to possess such a well-crafted blade. He hoped that he would become just like his daddy one day--that way he could play with it. Dante struggled to pull the sword out of its protective covering and just as he was fingering the delicate sharp edges, the sword tipped slightly in his grasp, grazing the skin on his thumb and leaving a fresh exposed wound. A dark red liquidy substance oozed out of the abrasion.

The moment he saw crimson red blood trickling down his finger, he let out a loud shriek and rushed out, dashing down the hall and into his elder brother's room.

"Vergil!"

I knew it was too quiet around here. He rolled his eyes when he heard his brother's high-pitched scream down the hallway. His detached attitude turned suddenly into that of a worried expression when he saw Dante's crying face. He got up from the floor and rushed over to the startled boy.

"What's the matter?"

"Look!" Dante raised his thumb towards Vergil, showing him the bloody slash across his finger, and pleadingly looked up at his older brother with fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

He touched it. Even though Mommy and Daddy told him not to.

"Please fix it, it hurts," he whined. Shimmering tears were now trickling freely down the sides of Dante's chubby cheeks, unable to stand the sting of his cut. Vergil cast aside his negative thoughts once he saw the tears fall. He had never seen his younger brother behave this way before. He had always been more of a carefree boy, not letting anything faze him no matter how it affected him. Even when he turned 2, he never let out a cry when he started jumping off the stairs in the house, even though he was hurt more than a few times. This side of Dante was different, as if he were a whole new person to him.

"Don't cry, Dante. Devils never cry, you know. Even Daddy said so himself. Here, sit down." He moved over to him and motioned Dante to be seated on the carpeted floor before doing the same. Ever so gently, he clasped his sibling's small hand, as if it was even more fragile than glass, and held his thumb up to his lips.

"What are you going to do?" he quivered, having second thoughts about coming to his brother. After all, Mommy was always there to nurse his bruises. And he never did like the doctor's office, much less the doctor himself.

"Make the pain go away. That's what you wanted, right?" Vergil let his eyelids fall shut, sliding the tip of his tongue over the cut, lapping the blood from his finger. A fixated Dante stared at his brother's cool and relaxed face as he cleaned up his wound with a slight cringe every now and then. His tongue felt warm and damp, but it helped to alleviate some of the pain.

Pressing his lips against his cut with a light and feathery touch, he kissed Dante's boo-boo, just like their mother would do when any of them were injured. It seemed to help Vergil most of the time, so he figured that he would do the same for his little brother. For the final touch, he went to his first-aid kit and peeled open a bandaid, wrapping it around his thumb, before sitting back and looking up at Dante.

"There. That should do the trick. Do you feel any better now?"

Dante wiped his wet tears with his sleeve, leaving red marks around his puffy eyes. His face was more swollen than it was before, his dried-up and salty tears adding to the overall redness in his features. However, the pain had resided, it wasn't throbbing as much as it was before Vergil had treated it. Staring down at the bandaid that Vergil had wrapped around his finger, he wiggled his thumb back and forth, coming to the realization that it wasn't broken.

In an abrupt change of emotions, Dante leaned forward and wrapped both of his arms around his brother's shoulders, giggling and smiling widely. What came next was totally out of the blue for Vergil; Dante gave him a quick peck on the cheek. This brought forth a crimson hue which spread to his cheeks. He was about to complain about the kiss but was taken by surprise when he felt two arms hugging him tenderly, along with a head resting in the crevice of his neck.

"Thank you, Vergil," he beamed.

Vergil returned the embrace, the edges of his lips curving up into a warm smile. Just putting that smile back on Dante's face was all that he could ask for.

"Anything for my little brother."

Fin.

-squeals- Vergil's such a good brother to Dante. Makes me wonder how he was driven to kill him in his later years. I guess the tension of living with a devious brother was too much for him. XD