You Know Me Through The Years

Old Books

There was nothing better than settling down in a quiet place with a book. Vergil's love of reading came from an early age when he sat in Sparda's study. He always took a seat in the one chair next to the window while his father wrote in his memoirs. Those were fond memories, even if they did not last long.

Even when Sparda had disappeared from the world, Vergil still found himself sitting in that one chair reading most of the day. That was unless his brother and Rowena had come to either annoy him or sit with him. He had loved nothing better than to have his nose in a book.

Now he was content with having the afternoons all to himself while he read. Most of the time, he read historical dramas. Sometimes a good mystery was waved in front of his face by Rowena. Other times he found himself wanting to research particular topics that interested him. He was trying to catch up on the last few decades of the world without rising suspicions from his family.

Especially Dante.

Sometimes, his newfound knowledge was put to good use when Mara needed help with her homework. He figured teaching his niece the ins and outs of history was a good way to keep her out of trouble. The more she knew, the better off she was going to be in the future.

"Hey Bro, got a moment?" Vergil had just started another chapter when Dante came into the living room with a bundle of old books in his arms. He did not look up from his book.

"What do you want?" And so the cycle continues to this very day with his brother still coming in and interrupting him.

"I've got something for you." Vergil was very wary of things his brother brought for him. Even back when they were boys he dreaded those words. "Just some of Dad's old books." Vergil's interest was piqued when his brother mentioned their father.

"How on Earth did you manage to get those?" He closed the book he was reading to look at Dante who was standing on the other side of the coffee table between them.

"I didn't." Dante said setting the books down on the glass table. "Nero did. Right after we decided to run off to demonland for fun and adventure." There was a smirk on the younger twins face. "They need some help though."

Vergil set his book down on the couch next to him and moved forward a little to examine the books. Dante was absolutely right. The books were in need of repair. Some of them were falling apart, but the pages were still legible. The bindings had come loose on three of the tomes, causing some of the pages to fall out, but they were not beyond saving. These were likely the last words their father had ever written. In all, there were six worn-out books with dry rotted leather covers.

"Did you read any of these?" Vergil looked up at his brother looking for some kind of confirmation.

"Nah, I figured you're the oldest so you get to read them first." That was kind of Dante. Vergil also knew that his brother was not interested in reading the ramblings of their father. After all, Dante and Sparda never really got along too well. The younger twin mostly stayed attached to their mother. "Besides, you knew him better."

"Just some old books." He smirked at Dante knowing exactly how his brother felt about books in general. "You always hated reading."

"Well, not as much as I did." Dante moved to sit in the recliner. "These on the other hand, bring up some bad memories."

"Still haven't let go of the past, have you?" Vergil clasped his hands together and leaned his elbows on his knees.

"Have you?" It had almost been an entire year since they had returned from the Underworld. Rowena was already asking him what he wanted for Christmas even though it was a holiday for believers in that particular faith.

"Most of it." Dante became serious and leaned back in the recliner. Vergil knew most of the bad memories was his fault. That was something they had settled over and over again in the abyss, but they both had their days. Which was why Vergil preferred to be alone. "Sometimes it hits me like a train, but I have the kids and Roe to pull me out of my slump." He chuckled. "Maybe you need to find someone to get you on track."

"I am perfectly fine on my own." As he had stated several times over the last six years. However, the truth was that he was missing something. He also still needed to work on his relationship with his son. "Besides, I have everything and everyone I need right here."

"I'm glad you feel that way, Verge." Dante seemed to find some relief in Vergil's confession. The older twin was more willing to open up a little more. "But you need to get out more."

"I do get out." He did. He sometimes went around looking for demons to fight on the more shadier parts of town. He tended to avoid places of high traffic because he was not into mingling with humans. "I don't need you to babysit me."

"Not what I meant, Vergil." Dante sat up and looked at his twin with a serious expression on his face. "What I mean is getting out and going someplace you might enjoy. Without demons, because I know you sneak out of here to blow off some steam."

"Where is there to go? I've already been around the world." He had been to countries Dante had never set foot in as a teenager.

"I don't know, Verge. You have to figure out what makes you feel good." Dante was coming from a place of concern and Vergil knew that, he had become accustomed to the habits of his family over the last year. They worried over him sometimes, but they did not need too. He was not about to sink back into his old ways. Not if he wanted to keep what he had gained. "Look, maybe finding a place to get these books looked after is a step in the right direction. You never know who you'll run into."

"Alright, fine. I'll do it your way for once." Vergil relented. "But only if you do something for me in return."

"Name it." Vergil smirked. He had a plan up his sleeve.

"One more fight." Dante rolled his eyes at the suggestion. They were still even, regardless if they had not fought each other in months.

"Fine. Tie breaker." The younger twin stood up. "We'll go to the forest on Friday." He stretched enough to where Vergil could hear his spine crack. "Until then, you have fun playing with those." His brother motioned to the books on the table before walking out of the room leaving Vergil alone for the time being.

He stared at the books on the table for a short time debating on if he should at least try to thumb through the pages. The pages were thick cotton pressed and preserved ink well, but time had started to turn them yellow. There was really nothing that could be done about that unless he had someone copy them word for word in new books. The books themselves were not as important as the words within them.

For now, he was going to focus on finding someone who could repair them.