He was wounded far beyond the powers of his usual self-healing. His head throbbed and his body was in so much pain that he was almost numb to it. He just wished that stage would come sooner. It was either that or have death finally take him. It didn't matter, what purpose did he serve now? He tried to grip Yamoto tightly, but his fingers could scarcely move. Even just the simple necessity to breath was painful. How could he have let himself get so battered and bruised? What was worse was the cold ground he laid upon. Cold was an understatement. It was freezing! Between the pain and the freezing, he just hoped one would numb out the other.

His thoughts replayed the battle as he tried to ignore the pain. Every time the sword sliced his flesh in the memory, it sliced at his mind as well. What excuse did he have for doing those things? He could say the devil made him do it, but he was part devil himself. In the end, he only had himself to blame. In fact, it was all his fault from the very instant Eva and Sparda were killed. He blamed Dante for their death and never once thought that he was in the same category then; young and defenseless. All he had after that moment was the anger that had built up in his heart to keep him motivated.

The pain was beginning to subside. Maybe his wounds weren't beyond the powers of his demonic healing after all. He brought a gloved hand up and covered his eyes, trying to suppress the uncontrollable urge to weep. He bit his tongue but it did no good. Warm tears slid down the sides of his face and to the cold ground. He felt ashamed to show any kind of visible weakness, but he couldn't help himself. Besides, no one was here in this dark place to witness this strong devil shed tears.

Light footsteps echoed in the darkness and he quickly wiped the tears away, keeping his arm over his eyes. If it was a demon coming to devour him, he wouldn't complain. He just couldn't let the demon see his tears; devils never cried. He heard the footsteps advance cautiously and with grace. The rustling of light fabric was soon heard and the jingling of some jewels accompanied this sound. It was pleasant. Could it really be a demon advancing towards him? He did not dare look. If this was Death, he did not want to see it coming, even if Death was a beautiful woman. He soon could feel the presence standing next to his form. It made no motion for a moment, as if examining him. The fabric rustled and he could tell the presence was kneeling next to him, the jewels it wore jingling lightly. A cold hand lightly touched his exposed cheek. He winced at the sudden touch, not the chill that touched his face. The hand was soft and slender and….kind.

"Have you really lost all hope?"

The voice was as kind and soft as the touch, reminding him of a nice spring day. It was an odd comparison, but that is all he could think of. He slowly moved his arm away from his face and glanced upon the creature that was kneeled next to him. She was beautiful beyond comparison. Her long, blue tinted-white hair cascaded down to her knees and swept the ground as she knelt. Her eyes were silver and glittered even in this dark place. She wore a long, flowing white gown with silver jewels adorning every part of the dress. Her smile was what wouldn't let go of his attention after gazing at her attire.

"Vergil, rise," her bell-like voice commanded softly, "You can not accept death just yet"

Despite her good intentions, Vergil's usual bitterness had him pinned down. He did not move, only looked away. The woman frowned and stood, the jewels making a light sound once again.

"Heaven will not claim you and Hell does not wish to have you," she stated as-a-matter-of-factly, "You must live on"

"No one wants me…" Vergil only smiled bitterly, "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

The woman reached out her hand to him in an attempt to lift him up from the ground, "Come"

Vergil looked at the hand hesitantly, looking up at the woman it belonged to before taking it. He would have stood himself if his injuries were not still in the process of healing. He hissed in pain when he stood erect, clutching the wound that hadn't even begun to heal on his abdomen. He stumbled forward only to have the woman catch him before he could fall. He immediately pushed her away and stumbled back, catching hold of a partially crumbled statue. She still had her arms out for him when he glanced up, but she slowly put them by her side once again. That was when he noticed two silver tinted wings protruding from her back; an angel!

"I didn't ask for your sympathy," Vergil didn't care how beautiful and how kind she was, he did not want pity.

"Sympathy? I've simply come to give back the life that was wrongfully taken from you," the angel stated

"Ha!" he scoffed, trying to ignore his pain, "I could care less how my life was taken. I have no reason to live so just let me die in peace, woman"

She shook her head, "I can't do that"

"And why not?"

"Your brother may not show it, but he is worried about you," was her reply

Vergil chuckled, "He's too emotional for his own good, even with that sarcastic face of his"

The angel frowned, "But you are his only family"

"Are you trying the guilt thing on me?" Vergil accused, "Its not going to work. I lost all sense of right and wrong a long time ago"

Exhausted by just standing, Vergil slid down against the statue and sat against it, eyeing Yamoto that lay by the angel's feet. He was too exhausted to get up and get it, but he didn't want it lying there without him. The woman seemed to sense this and picked up the weapon. She strode over with light steps and handed him the sword, which he yanked from her grasp. She said nothing about it as she leaned against another side of the statue. The silver haired demon said nothing as he grasped his wound that refused to heal. At this rate, he was going to bleed to death. His breathing was heavy and he could scarcely keep his eyes open. He could almost see the darkness of death that awaited him.

"Vergil, let me heal you, please," the angel interjected the embrace Vergil almost made with Death.

"No"

"Vergil…" she did not care what he said. She knelt down next to him and placed a softly illuminated hand over the wound, even with his hand still clutching it.

He didn't have the strength to protest at this moment. All he could do now was watch as the angel healed his wounds with the utmost care.

"You are going back to the human world Vergil," she stated, "You don't belong in a place like this"

Vergil couldn't help but ask questions in his state of helplessness, "Where are we?"

"The World In-between," she moved her hand to the wounds on his legs, "it's a world between Heaven, Hell and the human world. I am the watcher here for souls who aren't wanted in either afterlife. If I think they are suitable for the human world, I send them there"

"And those who aren't?"

She glanced up at the statue as a gesture, "They are turned to stone"

Vergil looked up and at the other statues that were around them. They were demons screaming in terror because of their fate.

"They are very much alive," she continued, "Just statues with their unforgivable sins trapped inside"

"And why am I not one of these?"

She stopped her healing and looked up at him, "Because you are not truly evil like you make yourself out to be"

Vergil looked away from her silver gaze, feeling that her eyes were looking into his soul. She only smiled and went back to healing his wounds. The silence remained for another ten minutes before Vergil found he had to speak because he couldn't stand the silence in his place.

"What is your name?"

"Ankou"

He had heard of Ankou once before during one of his research escapades. She was a fairy-like form of a grim reaper, being more of a comforting presence than that of the grim reaper himself. He had never thought that he would see her in his lifetime. Though, she was more of an angel than a fairy in appearance. He hated to admit it, but her kindness was getting to him.

"By the look in your eyes, I take it you have heard of me," Ankou guessed.

"Yes, from a book I picked up somewhere in an ancient library," Vergil replied

"I'm happy to know that at least one person takes interest in reading about me," she giggled, "my name is still in that human world somewhere, it's nice to know"

"Not many have the opportunity to research more than a lifetime worth of information. It was something to pass the time," Vergil stated

"Still, it's nice. You have no idea what it is like to be completely alone while hardly anyone knows of your existence," she held her smile, "Its kind of depressing, you know?

"Then how can you still find a reason to smile?"

"Because you are the first soul in thousands of years to have finally spoken to me without trying to kill me," she looked ashamed, "It's nice to finally talk to someone, even if only for a brief moment"

Vergil said nothing as he couldn't exactly compare to her.

"In fact, Sparda was here once," Ankou smiled at him, "Thousands of years before he met your mother. He was kind. Unlike any devil I had ever come across. He spoke of his ideals before I sent him to the human world to accomplish his dream. I just wish I knew where his soul went, maybe Heaven finally accepted him"

"Hm," Vergil mused, "Maybe"

The wounds were finally healed and the pain that had left him exhausted was gone as well. He stood up with Yamoto in hand, Ankou doing the same. Vergil avoided eye contact for a moment, thinking of the words to start another conversation. Ankou eyed him curiously.

"Do you think there is forgiveness in my brother's heart?"

The question was somewhat of a surprise to both of them, "Your brother may be sarcastic and seemingly uncaring, but I think he has forgiveness underneath all of that"

"Seeing my brother without an intention to kill will be strange," he admitted, "but I'll eventually get used to it. Maybe it'll even be like old times"

Like old times…when the brothers were still innocent to the terrors of the world, including the demon world. When the words 'I hate you' and 'I'll kill you for that' were only meaningless threats when they were mad at each other. Would it ever be the same? Could it ever be the same?

"Are you ready to go back, Vergil?"

Vergil gripped his sword and nodded. Ankou smiled once again, her silver eyes sparkling, before leading him away from the statue. Away from the place he thought he would die. Her footsteps contrasted his heavy ones, his boots thumping loudly against the cold stone pavement. Ankou seemed to almost float above the ground as her gown and jewels moved about around her small frame. How had such a beautiful and kind being end up in a desolate place like this? A few minutes later, and the two were at a glass door. Vergil could see only the continuing darkness through the door, but he knew better than to judge by appearances.

"Beyond this door is the human realm. Do you wish to appear in front of Devil May Cry?"

Vergil swallowed, slicking his hair back out of habit, "Yes, that would be fine"

Ankou smiled sadly, "I hope you have a good life with your brother. Don't forget me, ok?"

"I could never," and it was the truth. How could he forget her after this? After she had changed his heart in such a short amount of time?

Ankou walked up closer to him and placed her slender hands on his chest and smiled, "Thank you"

She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him before disappearing into the darkness. Before he had time to register, the door opened, letting out nothing but a warm and bright light. 'Can I finally find a place called home?' He stepped through the light and embraced it. Within seconds, he was standing in front of a brick building with huge doors, a sign flickering the name Devil May Cry. He could tell his brother was out for the time being, since he could sense no presence inside. 'Good,' he thought, 'this gives me time to think of what to say.' With that in mind, Vergil walked up the front steps of the building, walking through the unlocked doors.