Vergil's OneShots (DMC Fanfiction)

Childlike

A/N: A little taste of Little Vergil vs Vergil of the modern day.

Pic Credits: User Lighto from Zerochan.net

[Childlike]

"Boys, it's time for you to come back." Eva Sparda called gently but firmly in her angelic voice, looking out briefly through the window at her sons tumbling over each other, trying to wrestle each other on the floor. She paused slightly in the midst of washing the dishes when she could not spot the father of the boys, but shrugged to herself.

Sparda would never leave their sons alone; knowing the danger that they posed to others. It would be rather bad if someone happened to be nearby the boys when they used their strength.

"Mama." Eva looked down her side when a small voice called for her, tugging at the hem of her dress. The sweetest little thing dressed in a simple 'I love Dad' tee shirt and shorts looked up at her, glittering blue eyes looking up at her like she was the biggest person in his entire universe. This young one had such a long road in front of her, and Eva could only wonder what amazing things would be awaiting him in his future.

"Yes, dear?" Eva dried her hands on a tablecloth nearby in reply, turning around and squatting until she was almost on eye-level with the young boy.

"Daddy is sleeping outside. Shall we wake him up?" The innocent question was asked, but Eva smiled.

"Trust him to be taking a nap at this time." Eva commented with a beautiful smile, shaking her head lightly as she spoke. "I'll wake him up. You and Dante go wash your hands and feet up. And make sure your brother doesn't bring in his shoes or trail mud all over the floor."

"Okay." Vergil Sparda nodded, turned tail and ran back out of the kitchen. Hearing the pitter-patter of small feet as they ran out of the house to fetch Dante, Eva tugged her ponytail loose, a glorious curtain of golden hair cascading behind her as she continued her progress leisurely out of the house. Her son was already out of sight by the time she walked through the doorway to the living area, but Eva didn't really bother herself with it as she stepped through the room. Her son was, after all, special and she couldn't impose her humane expectations on how fast he could run.

The main door opened out to a beautiful yard confined by well-trimmed and maintained hedges on all four sides. If Eva could afford it, she would have had a small fountain installed a little ways from the white fenced gate, for the water to catch the beautiful moonlight on nights of full moon and glisten blissfully around the area. But it was rather unfortunate that their family could not afford the attention that would definitely be attracted to them if she insisted upon on her way. For the sake of keeping their sons in hiding and leading as normal lives as the two of them could, Eva had to give up some decorative ideals of her dream home. Still, none of those little decorative pieces that Eva wanted could ever hold a candle to the safety of her lovelies, and thus she never complained.

Pausing on the patio, Eva looked around the yard for her family. A small movement at a relatively dark corner of the yard caught her eye and Eva once more regained her smile as she turned towards that direction. Now that she had her attention fixed there, she could make the silhouette of her human-figure husband lying on his side, head leaning on one arm and sleeping peacefully. Eva walked closer, and realized with mild surprise that his other limp arm was dragged across a small lump of being. The moonlight simply opened the image up to the beautiful sight of her young son cuddled up against his father, clutching tight hold of his father's fingers in one arm.

Dante was snoring away lightly, but the only one helplessly awake in the situation was the same young one that had run into the kitchen to fetch her. She chuckled softly as she stopped her footsteps beside the scene, squatting down and watching as Vergil struggled but failed to remove his brother's sleepy grip on his shirt. Vergil must have tried to wake his brother up, but Eva knew that Dante had the tendency to grab a tight hold onto whatever that was close by whenever he was asleep. Poor Vergil must have been stuck there.