Of all the people he'd expected to find absolutely totalled out of their mind, Vergil hadn't been it. Regardless of how surprising it all was, there Vergil was anyway, utterly wasted, to the point that Dante almost felt a pang of sympathy for the poor bastard. After all, who better to understand the hell Vergil was going to go through in the morning, other than his drunk of a little brother?

But that was neither here nor there, as Dante approached, casually, to where the elder twin was slumped at the counter of the upscale bar, his head resting on his folded arms. "Yo. Verg."

The elder's head jerked upward, almost sending him sliding right off the stool, as he flailed and gripped the edge of the bar, before throwing a blurry-eyed, half-hearted glare at the voice over his shoulder, with a snort. "Go 'way."

And that's how Dante knew it was bad. Vergil never slurred like that, and it prompted a snicker from Dante, as he swaggered over and nodded toward Vergil at the bartender. "How much has he had?" He ignored Vergil's feeble attempts to slap him away, instead planting a hand in his brother's face and pushing him away.

"Enough that I'm surprised he hasn't just fallen out yet."

Dante popped his lips together, before grabbing Vergil by the back of his shirt collar and tugging upward. "Ayeah, think it's time to cart you home, big brother."

"Piss. Off." It came out a little clearer, as Vergil tried to tear himself away from Dante's grip, and failed miserably, being dragged along like a ragdoll in his intoxicated state.

"It's cute when you act like you don't love me, baby." That earned him an uncoordinated elbow to the stomach, that barely fazed him a bit. More proof Vergil was completely bombed. "Aw, now I know you like to get rough, but let's save it for when we get home, sugar."

"Gut you," was the response, as the door swung shut behind them.