Prompt: "So I downplayed the danger a little. It's not like you lost a limb."
"So I downplayed the danger a little. It's not like you lost a limb."
Vergil, from where he was leaning against a wall and nursing a deep gash across his midsection, glanced up, his entire expression incredulous. Had Dante just really? Really? He had, judging my the smugness of his own expression, despite the fact that blood dripped down his own nose from a cut along his hairline. And Vergil just stayed there a moment, staring, simply refusing to believe Dante was honestly that stupid. "Are you serious." His voice was flat. So very flat. "I'm practically holding in my intestines, and that's all you have to say for yourself?"
"C'mon, it's not that bad." Dante picked his way over the mangled bodies of the demons that had jumped them a few minutes before, one knee wobbling from the nice, deep cut on the back of his thigh. "Lemme see."
"No." Vergil huffed, gripping the gash tighter and forcing himself straight, his teeth clenching against the noise of pain that threatened. "You stay the hell away from me, you disgusting sheepdog."
"Pfft." Dante waved aside the hand Vergil sent in his direction, pinning it against the wall, before prying at the other. "Be a good dumbass and lemme look."
Vergil snarled at that, as he leaned forward and snapped at Dante's face with his teeth. They skimmed Dante's cheek, but found no purchase there, and his arm was pulled free of the deep cut he'd so desperately tried to cover and hold together, to let genetics do its work.
Dante gave a low whistle, shaking his head, utterly shrugging off the attempted face chewing. "Yeah, but it's not that bad. You'll be fine, you big goddamn baby." With a snort, Dante released him, taking a quick step back. The arm that had been covering Vergil's wound quickly clamped down against it once more, and Vergil squinted at Dante, jabbing a finger at him with the other hand.
"We'll see who's fine when I'm ripping your spine from your throat."
"Uh huh. Whatever you say, you electroshock therapy reject." The arm was grabbed and tossed over his shoulder, and Dante clamped down on Vergil's hand with his own, to keep him from getting any ideas of attempted maimage. "Let's get the hell out of here."