Spending the better part of the night tossing and turning, his dreams filled with the things that tormented him the most. The beings he fought so hard to free himself from, the Cerulean male grew hot under all of the comforters, becoming drenched in sweat as he rolled away from his twin and then back to him, this was the entire night, turning away and rolling back. As if he was having some sort of inner conflict, trying to escape something and rush back to Dante. But not even in his dreams would he be able to escape the hell he endured.

His breathing began to come out in short little gasps, gripping the bed sheets as he fought for air, Vergil began to hyperventilate in his sleep. His pulse sky rocketing to a level that truly was not safe. His forehead wrinkled, pursing his lips as he arched his back off the bed, his arm and legs oddly staying still…as though they were chained, preventing him from moving. Vergil suddenly let out this deafening scream of fear and pain as tears streamed down the corners of his eyes. Tightly shut mind you, but tears streamed down them none the less.

"A-Argh…l-let me go! S-Stop this…stop this! Unhand me…get off of me…s-someone…s-stop this…stop them…please…save me…save me…father…m-mother…someone…a-anyone…D-DAAAAAAANTEE EE!" The Cerulean scream, suddenly up straight in bed, gasping as though he had just ran long good distance, sweat trickled down his chest and forehead as he looked around, trembling like a scared child.

"J-Just a dream…it's…it was all just a dream." He thought to himself, looking down at his hand, seeing there were no chains, he wasn't being tortured, he wasn't being… he was safe.

Vergil drew back the blankets, getting out of bed as he fought to keep himself centered, but right now…after a nightmare like that…who would be centered?

He strode over to the bathroom, locking himself inside as he washed his face, trying to wake himself up as continued heaving out heavy breaths. Staring into the mirror, with black bags under his eyes, he growled, narrowing his eyes as anger flowed through him. "Hn…pathetic and you call yourself the Son of Sparda. Here you are, dreaming of that Hell as if you are afraid of those low level demons! Show some resolve…where is your might? Your power?!"

He stilled, looking away from the mirror, his eyes hardened before he stripped, stepping into the shower. He gave a sigh, before turning the water on, letting the cold water hit his body as he gasped. A cold shower would do him good, wake him up. As he began washing himself, rinsing the sweat from his body, he got lost in thought, his brow knit together. "If I am to find a way to get my Devil back from those…heathens…I will need Yamato. But…will Dante give me her? Will he trust me not to open a Hell gate? I've no such illusions that he's just going to willingly give me her. But it's worth a try, I need a weapon if I'm to fight."

When he was finished with his shower, he shut the water off, quickly toweling off as he now found himself calm, just as calm as he'd been before his little adventure in Hell. Dressing himself back in the pajama pants, he gave one last look of himself in the mirror, his eyes narrowed in anger. "You are not pathetic…you are the Son of Sparda and you should start acting like it."