Chapter 34
Author's notes: I've been waiting to let this chapter out for a long time—enjoy the early read, lovelies
(Vergil POV)
Waking up to your face after being unconscious was both a blessing and a curse.
A blessing, because it seemingly quieted the pain wracking his temple, like a jackhammer that was trying to dig its way into his brain. The son of Sparda's body had seemingly awoken itself at the familiar sensation of you using that Void energy to heal him. It was akin to being doused with cold water, numbing all the exhaustion, the pain, and leaving the strangest sensation of floating in its wake. It was that cold that brought consciousness back. He was...not in control of himself, mind still reeling from the reaction his own body had at the sight of you. Half awake, delirious, but snapping to attention once he saw you above his form.
That voice in the back of his head had exclaimed without words, a thousand feelings he did not understand passing through his tired body. Some his, some felt like they weren't his. The son of Sparda had never felt so conflicted in his life, awash with confusion and that deep aching feeling in his chest that your presence provided. All his fears and concerns had been put to rest in that moment, seeing your face as soon as his eyes managed to open. While in hell, Vergil's brain had been working overtime, conjuring images of you unhappy and broken looking, just like how you had been in the Qliphoth tree. But...he was wrong, and for whatever reason that relieved him entirely. Of course you would thrive once free of those burdens, once free of him.
Your skin looked healthier, warmer, like you glowed with the rays of a summer day. Your eyes were gentle now, a far cry from the anguish he had left upon you in the tree-but they weren't looking at him, staring at Nero as you spoke to the boy in quiet tones. His son, his flesh and blood-what a sensation that was. Your voice was the only thing that seemed to soothe the raging inferno that had been growing in him for months, like balm on an aching wound. But...that wound was now open and vulnerable, wasn't it? Vergil could hardly fathom the situation he was in, brain scrambling now that he was in a room with both you and the boy he came to know as his own kin; it was almost maddening, far more overwhelming than he was anticipating.
He hadn't expected this. He couldn't handle this.
Without thinking his hand had reached out to touch you, as if possessed by something else entirely. That voice at the back of his head had begged it, demanded it, like you were water and he was beyond parched.
But doing so took away that smile you had worn while speaking to Nero, bringing forth shock and insecurity as you leveled those beautiful eyes on him. Hesitation, fear. It snapped him back into reality in an instant, the voice in his mind filled with alarm and pain. What a fool he was, to forget the damage he had caused to you even for a brief second; such lapses in judgement could not be tolerated. His actions had sent a headache throbbing through his temples, heavy and suffocating even as Nero had removed his hand from your person.
She looks upon you with such fear, The voice in his head whispered, low and sorrowful as Vergil tried desperately to quiet it, We have damaged her in a way that cannot be fixed by time.
We? The voice felt like it was his own thoughts, but disconnected at the same time when it spoke like they were two different people. It was louder than ever, continuing to make comments and press against his skull like pounding fists, weighted and heavy. Vergil learned fairly fast that saying anything to you that was even remotely unfriendly would result in pain from his own head, the strange voice growing incredibly enraged by Vergil's inability to bite his tongue, or perhaps remove the foot from his mouth. The Sparda's mood was made foul by pain, and even more so by his lack of control and poise.
The cycle was relentless. His loose lips would spout whatever foolish prattle his anger would conjured, and it would result in punishment. Watching your expressions shift and change was only making it worse, adding to his guilt and emotion with every glimmer of your eyes, every crestfallen look you gained in response to his cruelty. Why can't I stop? He didn't understand, but perhaps it was due to him wanting to push you away? It all boiled down to his own coping mechanisms, and that annoying feeling in regards to you, the one that said you were better off not getting close to him. You were deserving of better.
Don't--The voice was still there, hissing and angry at Vergil's actions-stop pushing her away from us! Don't be a fool, apologize for what you have done and try for once in your life…!
He couldn't just do that, he didn't know how.
More pain came through his head, aching and throbbing in rapid succession. It was all Vergil could do to put his hands to the source of pain, trying to will it away and find some semblance of control again. But...you started to babble about leaving, about going to find painkillers or something to ease his suffering-why? Why were you so hellbent on helping him, especially after all the pain you were caused? Seeing you about to stand sent his heart hammering in his chest, the voice in his head coming to life again with silent panic and despair. After being away from you for so long, that longing was alive and fervent as ever.
His control had slipped, like something else took hold of his body.
He had grabbed you again, mouth releasing those words begging you to stay, a moment of vulnerability he would otherwise never show. For a moment, he could not find where he ended and the voice inside his head began, and that...was terrifying.
Don't leave us, It whispered, seeing you startled and pained expression and echoing that pain right back with his own mouth, Please.
What the hell was he doing, what was he saying? Such actions were beyond a son of Sparda, completely unacceptable. And worse...these lapses of control frightened him, made to feel like he wasn't himself anymore. Through those throws of panic and discomfort was every feeling you brought, and that was just as confusing. At the end of the day, he was aligned with the opinions of his loud, desperate thoughts on the matter of you leaving them alone. And that was what was truly upsetting, the act of needing someone-craving them. It had grown and festered inside him those four months of being left unchecked, ignored, watered by his own ignorance. The vines of its bounty now overflowed, left to run wild inside him and not bothered by garden shears.
Please. She is everything we need, what we want-swallow your foolish pride and tell her what you remember, what you feel.
He couldn't afford to do that. Not yet.
But things never progressed as he wanted them to. He sensed the change outside right around when you did, senses prickling on the edges of his skull warning of approaching demons. You had sprung into action without sparing him a second glance, easily falling into protective mode considering the laughter of children could still be heard from the other room. No more lapses this time-Vergil dragged himself to his feet as soon as you left the room, feeling the pain in his skull diminish at the idea of you going out to fight, at the idea of his son out fighting alone. He is not my son, He tried to tell himself. Yes he is, you fool, That voice replied back. It was getting pretty annoying now, having a constant force in his head that sought to undermine all he felt and prided himself on.
Regardless, whatever was ailing him diminished enough to let him start walking on his own. He headed into an unfamiliar kitchen, eyeing the remnants of abandoned food before looking out the window into the raging storm. Through the sheets of heavy rain his eyes easily spotted Nero battling in the sand, swinging his sword before whipping out a gun to fire right between the eyes of a soaked demon. He had a fighting style that was fairly unique, but not close to his own in any way. In fact, it was more akin to Dante's than anything else, and something about that bothered Vergil quite a bit.
What do you expect? The Voice hissed, causing the elder Sparda to press a hand to his temple again, Dante has seen more of your own son than you. Why is that, I wonder?
It made him even more irritated, that mood cloaking him as he found you standing in the doorway with the strange, loud-mouthed mechanic. There was no mistaking the air of determination around you, ready to head out and fight before Nico had loudly announced his presence, damn her. Why did it bother him so much to see the hesitation he wrought in you? The way the fire in your expression flickered and died, replaced with something far more vulnerable and weak. He was in quite the mood, snapping out of turn when you tried to stop him from doing the one thing he knew beyond all doubt was in his field of capabilities, and that only resulted in more consequences from the voice in his head. Not to mention the instant guilt it brought, which was heavily dissatisfying.
Have you no control? The voice snarled, sending a snap of pain back through his head, Is every word that comes from you dripping with poison? Sheath your anger for once in your life and stop hurting her. Have you not learned?
Poison was a good word to describe someone like him. Bringing calamity to every life he touched, including his own family. And feeling such a thing was not something he was used to, having swallowed his own self-deprivation years ago in an attempt to steel himself. Not strong enough to save his mother, not strong enough to save anyone-he made a vow to never feel that weak again, he would gain enough power to never let anything make him feel like that for as long as he lived. But each attempt had been met with failure, chiseling down the walls he so carefully built until he felt like he did in his younger years.
He did not like feeling weak, but something told him he tasted quite a bit of that from both sides while he was split. And you...you had embraced his human half despite that weakness, becoming the crutch he relied on as he made his way up the Qliphoth tree. You never saw his weakness as a flaw, or a bad thing-not like the countless people he had met growing up. One had to be strong every moment of their life to survive, unwavering in the face of danger and despair. The vulnerability V had showed you should have been far more humiliating, but...instead he found himself aching to show such vulnerability again, just to feel that sense of belonging as before.
It could not, would not happen. Battling came first above all else.
He had followed when you rushed outside, body soaked in water after mere moments of rain. He would be a fool not to notice how much you improved, the strength you had gained in four mere months. Those tendrils of yours were precise, whipping out in a deadly arc to launch your toward battle, the very nightmares that once plagued his body flanking you with an eagerness to fight. It was so distracting, his eyes lingering on you with fascination as you summoned forth a cane-his cane, the very one he had stolen from a shop in the city when he had been left wandering on his own. No...not him, V. You had mixed it with your Void power, using it as a sentry that could now shoot crystal to finish off your foes.
She has grown so much, The Voice breathed in awe, tone soft and filled with adoration, How incredible, our Sparrow. Where she has thrived you have wallowed in your own self-pity.
He was aware of that, thank you very much. Still, he tried desperately to focus on his own fights, to ignore you and take down as many demons as possible. Why had such a large amount summoned on the beaches of Fortuna, of all places? From what he could glean of V's memories, Nero had said the Order of the Sword had long been out of commission, so a place like this gave nothing to demons in terms of power or bloodshed, not unless they were planning to wipe out the city and claim it. But even then, this group wasn't nearly big enough to attack a city that was renowned for having dealt with worse demon attacks before.
So why?
He didn't get to think about it very long, even through the mindless killing of the disgusting creatures. He had been in the process of killing another of their kind when a peculiar sensation had rippled along his spine, making his sword movement halt and a grunt escape from his lips. He couldn't recall ever feeling such a thing before, like chills were settling over his limbs from a cold that didn't exist. It took all his concentration not to get hit with the retaliating attack from his foe, leaping back and skidding over the wet sand with water running down his furrowed brow to parted lips. Was that voice in his head causing disruptions again? But there was no head pain, not while there was so much on the line.
But...he received his answer.
Right as he went to raise his sword again, he was halted by Griffon's loud shrieking, his voice carrying over the beach as he yelled, "Toots…! Move…!"
He was yelling at you. That nickname was definitely something Vergil had remembered.
His gaze whipped around in just enough time to see the ocean raise behind you, the wave arcing just as the storm kicked everyone and everything with the heaviest rain he had ever felt. It was hard to see, but for a moment he thought he saw flashes of lightning in the water, what looked to be the illuminated silhouette of a whale's body before the water crashed down on your frozen form. He was surprised by the immediate panic and shock he felt, body moving before he even had a chance to think in a mad dash to grab you-but to no avail. The water snatched you back faster than he thought possible, body disappearing under the rolling waves and leaving emptiness where you had once been.
"Kid!" Nero had shouted, making a dash for the water as well with Dante close on his heels, but both had been tackled by the remaining demons, forced to stay back and fight with no hopes of saving you.
Vergil had an opening. And he was not going to hesitate.
Save her! The voice in his head had practically shouted, even while Vergil was sprinting his way to the shoreline, turning into his Devil Trigger form and launching over the water, Save her save her save her…!
His heart was pounding against his ribs, increasing in tempo even as he ignored the alarmed shouting of Dante after him, plunging into the rolling surface of the ocean in one fell swoop. The water was dark and cold, far more chilled than it should have been for a warm island like Fortuna. And luckily enough, spotting you through the murky depths was far easier than he could have anticipated. As soon as he swam a few meters down, your floating form met his alarmed gaze, hair and tendrils hanging loosely in the swirling water. He shouldn't have been feeling such panic, such fear in regards to anything or anyone. But seeing you down there alone and vulnerable kicked alive a fear in him he didn't know existed, the fear that came with seeing someone he cared for in danger-such a thing hadn't been experienced since he was young, so young. Reliving it was something he never wanted to do again.
Seeing you down there, illuminated by candlelight of all things in the ocean's salty water...what the hell was going on? He didn't stop in his movements, watching with horror as black, crystalline hands started to reach for you as they emerged from a shrine sitting in the seaweed and sands. You did not move as they touched you, pulling you closer and closer to the object of worship he recognized to be a rune, remembering how much the object had upset you when it had appeared on your belt while traveling. This is not right, she is in danger and we need to stop it. You looked dazed, eyes black and lips parted in the water without so much as a muscle twitch to stop it from happening.
Vergil didn't think. He couldn't. For once the voice and he felt more aligned than ever, his wings beating against the current in a desperate attempt to reach you. His demonic arm had snatched you around the waist, tugging with all his might as he tried slashing at the phantom appendages. They were both physical and not-he felt them touching you, but cutting them yielded to results. Strong, unwavering. He could do nothing but hold on, wings trying to pull you both away while his tail thrashed back and forth. Those arms started grasping at him too, holding onto his biceps, stroking his face, snaking their way all away around his waist and back.
He would damned before he let you go.
Never let her go again. We have you, Sparrow.
The shrine pulling you both in suddenly shattered into a million splinters, candles glowing in a bright light that blinded his eyes. He had never felt a cold like this before, at least not in recent memory. There was a brief flash of it when you had sent V and Trish passing through the Void in a last ditch effort to save them from the crumbling city, but it did not compare to this. Like being doused in ice, but still somehow colder and heavier. The chill seeped into his bones, filled his lungs and the armor surrounding his body until the demonic heat ceased to be entirely-it was all he could do to wrap his wings around you, trying to shield your body as he lost his sense of direction. Which way was up, were you both falling? It was starting to feel like it.
The light disappeared after a few long moments, Vergil feeling ground form under his shoulder and left side like it had materialized from thin air. No longer falling. His eyes snapped open, air heaving in and out of his lungs and brain scrambling to get its bearings-back to human form, Sin Devil Trigger gone. This place was a far cry from the beaches of Fortuna, that was the most apparent and obvious thing when he pulled himself up on his hands and knees. That voice in his head was quiet now, remembering the few things you had mentioned to him about your god, your Deity and the place he came from. What did you mention every time you used your power, something called "the Void"? That was a good name for wherever you both were.
There was no sky, only a dark, endless emptiness that stretched further than the eye could track. Inky and black, but glowing hollowly with pale light at the same time. Why was it so terribly cold, and loud? There was a low keening that never seemed to fade, like a chorus of a thousand voices merging together in an eerie howl that sent chills down his spine. Vergil was not a man easily unnerved, especially after spending so much of his life trapped in hell with no escape. But this...this was something far beyond hell, beyond anything he had experienced. With it came the most unbelievable sensation of emptiness, loneliness that was carried on the harsh wind and in between the pieces of floating debris.
Focus on her-is she alright?! The voice hissed forcefully, making his head immediately turn to look at your unconscious form next to him, Is she alive?
Panic gripped him for a second, Vergil rolling you over so he could press his ear to your chest to see if you were breathing-thankfully, you were. Short and fast, heart hammering away at a worrying pace and body shivering from the temperature. It occurred to him then that you were both somehow dry, no longer dripping with salt water and clothes as they were before you stepped out into the rain. How was that possible? How was any of this possible? He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and anger in his expression as he debated heavily what to do.
Use the Yamato-if this is a dimension, you can cut through it, The voice actually gave him some decent advice, low and soft as Vergil continued gazing at your resting face, She can't stay here, she can't thrive in a place like this.
There was truth in those words. Vergil let out a low, heavy grunt as he started to rise to his feet. He shrugged off his coat, pausing for a moment before laying it over your sleeping form. It would not help, he knew that. Whatever was at play here cut right through his clothes and chilled every part of him, but at least...at least an attempt was made. If anything, his actions made the force in his head happy, and that was enough to let him know it was worth his pride.
He unsheathed his sword, concentrating momentarily before attempting to make slashes in the air to get you both out of there. Even as he did so, Vergil expected that it wouldn't work and was immediately proven correct in his assumption. The motion yielded absolutely nothing, no slashes being made in the air and Yamato having no effect. And that...was heavily alarming, bringing back that sense of being completely powerless in an instant. Vergil grit his teeth hard, jaw clenched as he lowered the sword and thrust it angrily back into its sheath. What the hell were they doing there, and why? Why suck them both into such a place? There was no doubt the Deity had a part to play in this, but the son of Sparda saw no sight of any creature.
All that remained was you, unconscious on the floor and shivering in the cold.
It was no coincidence that he was trapped in there with you, of that he was sure of. But despite all his unease, all he could do was sit down by your form, trying to calm his racing heartbeat as time passed by uninterrupted. What more could he do but wait? You were familiar with this place, surely. Perhaps you could do a better job of getting them out of the situation than he. But...your power was connected to that God, so if he wanted you both to stay there was no fighting it. The feeling of being absolutely useless was maddening, but there was nowhere to go, no destination and nothing to fight but himself and the emotions trying to drown him again. Leaving you alone was not an option, and he was willing to sit and wait if need be.
Problem was that left him alone to his thoughts, and the voice that refused to shut the hell up.
(Your POV)
It's cold, so cold.
You remember this feeling.
You remember this place.
Your body felt so heavy, weighed down by a blanket of chill and shivering from the cold wind, one your soul recognized quite well-you had spent many years existing in this place, after all. The Void was a space that had once been a home of sorts, one that brought sleep and the loss of all that plagued your mind. Now...being here yielded only despair, a sense of foreboding that could fill someone to the brim and break them down into nothing. All those months in the sun had spoiled you, making the howling and frigidness of this place seem like your own personal hell by comparison. And with that came fear, anxiety, pain, a million things filling you up at once and sending your heart racing like it was trying to free itself from your chest.
Each part of your body came back in bits and pieces. The cold made its home first, then the heaviness of your limbs. Hadn't you been drowning earlier, thrust into the rolling ocean with salt water filling your chest and mouth? Your lungs ached, but each breath came easy enough in the freezing air, brushing past your lips and disappearing into the Void. I don't want to be here, I can't be here. I want to go home. Panic gripped you like all those hands on your body, making you want to scream and cry until you were returned to where you belonged. Back to the house by the sea, with your new family and back to worrying only about what to wear for the festival with the children. After all that time spent happy, coming back here was like a slap to the face.
I don't want to open my eyes.
But you had to.
When they finally peeled open, you were not at all shocked to see the Void staring back at you. But disappointment and despair still made its way in, heart plummeting to your stomach at the all too familiar sight of debris floating past in the harsh wind. The Void had not changed at all, as dark and miserable as the day you left it. You shuddered at the sight of a whale's dead body floating past, one glassy eye reflecting the dull glow and blood dripping from its maw. It reeked of whale oil and of something cold and dark, filled with the endless howling of all the forgotten, broken souls who came to make this place their home.
It was your home once too. But not anymore.
You pulled yourself into a sitting position, feeling confused when something slipped off of your form and draped onto your lap. What was covering you? Upon lifting it in your fingers, you felt your head blank out for a moment while it processed just what it was-heavy fabric, either black or very dark blue in color, with silvery-blue trim on the collar and arms. You knew this coat very well. It sent your heart into overdrive, if that was even possible, a thousand emotions rising back up as you tried to process why the hell it was here.
In the water-you remember, don't you? The slash of a blade, someone grabbing you.
"...Finally awake I see."
That voice, rasping and familiar made you jolt in place, head whipping around in shock to the source. Cold, lightly colored eyes stared back at you from a face you did not expect to see in the Void, his expression tired and mildly annoyed-Vergil. Your mouth popped open in shock, horror and disbelief filling you when it clicked that he was in the Void with you. No no...this was not good, this was not a place he should have ever been forced to see. Why was he here? Why had the Deity brought him in with you? You gripped his coat in your fingers, belatedly realizing he must have draped it over you in an attempt to keep you warm in the harsh chill in this place, but...that was not something you wanted to think about.
He shouldn't be here. He couldn't be here.
What was the Deity planning?
"Vergil," You whispered, voice clearly displaying your fear and worry as you kept your eyes locked with his, "Y...you...how are you here…? What happened?"
He let out a light scoff at your words, rising to his feet and rolling one shoulder. He was wearing only a vest in similar color to his jacket, arms bare to the bitter cold-he was fairly muscled, his biceps flexing as he no doubt tried to shake the chill from his limbs. All you could do was stand up as well, holding out his jacket with shaking fingers for him to take.
"The ocean swallowed you," He said flatly, eyeing his piece of clothing with a frown as he added, "Keep it-Are you not cold in a place like this?"
Why is he trying to help me in the first place?
You shook your head, holding it out more insistently as you murmured, "No...I am used to this cold. You aren't, but I doubt the jacket helped anyway, did it?" Clothes never shut out a chill like this, the sensation lingering on your soul for a long time even after leaving the forsaken place. You felt bad-Vergil wouldn't be able to shake this cold for a long time.
He was still frowning, but he took back his jacket with steady fingers. Relief filled you, a sigh leaving your lips as he pulled it back on, "No, it does not help. Am I to assume that this is the Void you spoke of?"
"Yes," You nodded, staring at him anxiously even as he turned his gaze away to examine the space around you, "But that doesn't explain how you got here."
I want to hear him say it. I know the answer, but I deserve to get it from his mouth.
Vergil frowned more at your words, tilting his chilly gaze back to you and meeting your eyes. Something about the annoyed way he stared at you made you want to squirm, always feeling nervous in regards to him. It was strange, loving a part of someone that did not want to love you in return. And worse, he knew of your love, knew of it and threw it to the side like garbage. Like it didn't matter. There was still anger left over from what he had done in the tree, burning brighter at the way he looked at you, as if you were aggravating him just by existing. But there was no place for that here, not now when things were so dire.
"...I tried to stop the shrine from taking you," He finally replied, tone low and begrudging as he furrowed his brow, "It took us both instead."
God damn it. Guilt was filling you now, coupled with the realization that you being in danger had sucked him into such a bad situation. But...there was no mistaking that all the day's events had happened for a reason, caused by the outside force you knew to be the Deity. He must have foreseen Vergil coming to save you, which meant he wanted the son of Sparda to be pulled in as well. Alarming as that was, you could not understand why-what drove the God now? Was this a game he was playing, for his entertainment? Or did it have a reason?
"My Deity brought you here on purpose," You replied to him softly, turning your gaze away from his and anxiously eyeing the whale floating by, "Make no mistake of that-he...he wants you here, but I don't know why."
This ignorance is frightening. I can't afford to be ignorant again.
"Is it possible for you to teleport us?" Vergil asked, taking a few steps over to the edge of the platform you were on and staring down at the depths below. Seeing the endless abyss seemed to displease him even more, jaw tightening when he saw no bottom to be spoken of.
Did...he remember when you opened the Void portal, back when he was still split into V and Urizen? You couldn't tell, heart speeding up as you stared at his sharp face. Maybe...maybe he just assumed you could do such a thing after seeing your powers earlier? There was no need to grasp at straws that weren't there.
But you tried to activate your Void power anyway, feeling the burn grow in your stomach as you raised a hand to the open air.
"Open the Void's maw."
As you expected and feared, it had zero results. No portal or gate opened, power flaring and dying just as quickly. But of course, there would be no leaving if the Deity desired it. While doing so you quickly realized that you couldn't feel the familiars anymore either-they were not in your body, and your connection to their thoughts brought forth only static. That caused panic to grip you, feeling naked and vulnerable without them there to back you up. Were they alright with you being trapped from them like this? Would they be able to stay alive and healthy so long outside your body? You hoped to god that they would be okay, heart aching painfully at the idea of losing them after all that they had done.
They were still connected to you, right? That bond had not been broken, only muted for a time.
I need to get home. I can't stay here.
God damn it.
"He is blocking me," You whispered, closing your fingers into a fist and letting your hands drop to your sides, "This place has no entrance and no exit. There is nothing I can do-even Griffon, Shadow and Nightmare can't be reached to help us...I'm sorry."
Vergil let out a low growl of annoyance, but it didn't seem to be directed at the lack of ability to get you both out. He ran a hand through his slicked back silvery-white hair, gripping the Yamato's sheath tightly with the other. Nero did the same thing when he was stressed-it was strange to see it echoed on him despite the fact that they spent no time together.
"I had guessed your power would be even less successful than my own," He replied in a sullen tone, making you realize instantly that he must have tried to use the Yamato at some point to leave. But...judging by his look of anger, it had no effect, "Considering it is born of this place, he can stop it from working as he chooses. Your God seems hellbent on us staying, yet he has not made himself known. Why is that?"
You wished you knew. But this was beyond any knowledge these years of serving the Deity had given you.
"I don't know," You admitted in a low whisper, turning to meet his gaze with a despairing one of your own, "His actions are a mystery even to me...I have never known his intentions." The past events had made that very apparent to you. There was a time that you thought you understood the God, how he saw you and your own purpose. But...that understanding was long gone, washed away by the sting of betrayal after he had forced you to watch V as he-
You can't think about that now.
Vergil seemed displeased by your answer, irritation spiking like a physical presence in the air as he replied, "You served this God without any knowledge of how he functions? How could you hope to follow a being with ignorance being the only thing to guide you?"
His words struck a very angry, indignant chord within you. The events leading up to your final moments inside the Qliphtoh tree were a sore spot, an open wound that he seemed to love ripping open again and again. That ignorance had caused you nothing but pain, but god damn it how could you have foreseen what the God would do? Up until meeting V, he had done nothing to earn your distrust, having been a father figure who gave you another chance at life. It took all that had transpired to teach you of the toxicity he had forced into your skull, of the cruelty those actions wrought. And Vergil was in no place to question that.
You can't afford to lose your temper, not now. Not here.
But…
"You think I don't know that?" Your words came out a lot harsher than intended, mood affected by the fear, worry, and panic to make them sharper, "I thought I knew a long time ago what kind of being he was, I...I was wrong. I don't know anymore."
Vergil met your annoyed gaze with a sharp one of his own, not oblivious to your anger in the slightest bit. You turned away, looking out at the Void again and gripping one strap of your clothing hard in your hand. That anger you had stomped down for all those months seemed ready and raring to make an appearance, watered by Vergil's unending cruelty despite how much you expected it. God, he made you so tired, all of this did. Why weren't you allowed to just have the peace you desired, back home with the others and relearning how to be a human again? Vergil may hate the humanity he possessed, but that part of him had been so precious to you. V had brought you joy, no matter how brief, and that was something that clung to you despite how much it hurt.
And he just...disregarded it.
"What do you suggest we do, then?" Vergil finally asked in reply, letting out a light sigh and pressing a hand hard to his temple. It looked like he was in pain again, a scowl marring his face as he muttered, "Just sit here and wait for this pompous creature to show his face?"
What else could be done? Trying to maneuver around the Void was dangerous and pointless. You were starting to feel sullen sitting here dealing with Vergil's foul mood, but there was nowhere else to go.
"It's all we can do," You replied simply, tone soft and tired as you closed your eyes, "He wants us here for a reason, and until his desires are fulfilled he will not let us go."
Could you try and talk to Vergil about what happened? It seemed so impossible with how things were already going. The idea of bringing up V and your feelings for him made you so very nervous, especially considering how cold Vergil was to you at all times. He turned away from you at your words, walking along the space of stone that was the platform and scoping out the environment. Or perhaps...he was pacing. The half-demon was definitely not the talkative type, you could tell that much right away. But...you made a vow to yourself and Kyrie to at least try, and there was nothing left to do.
You owe him nothing. You deserve closure.
Swallowing down your nervousness, you turned to look at him again with hesitant eyes. Vergil really was nothing like V, was he? Different in face, hair, body, personality. It felt almost impossible that V could come from this man, but...maybe the poet's time away from the demonic half had let him flourish and soften, growing more of a personality without Vergil trying to stifle him? You could admit they both shared a similar air of pride, but V had been far more vulnerable with you. You could remember how he spoke of his mother, of his time as Nelo Angelo and how both things had hurt him. That existed in Vergil too, you knew that. But the stubborn man must have buried such feelings under so many layers of pride and coping mechanisms.
And that...made you terribly sad even while still being angry. Frustrated, growing in tempo the longer the silence stretched. Why was he this way, so hellbent on feeling nothing and searching only for power? He gained nothing but emptiness from a path like that.
Don't say it. Bite your tongue, bite it-
"Don't you ever grow tired?" You whispered before you could stop yourself, making him pause in his steps and look back at you, "Shoving everything down and trying to feel nothing? Seeing human emotion and needs as weakness, like it doesn't matter."
You shouldn't do this.
Not here. Not now.
But there was no stopping the emotion once it started, the dam holding back everything you had so carefully held back for all those months starting to crack. Honestly, it had been a long time coming. Kyrie's teachings had not left you, but...She had told you not to settle for anything less than what you felt was deserved. Anger was allowed, pain was allowed, but it was about not letting it rule your every action. Regardless, the silence your questions caused was heavy, so much so that you could almost taste it over the disgusting residue of the Void. More bitter than whale oil, and far more volatile. Vergil was not a man who seemed prone to outbursts of anger, but rather the quiet, restrained kind that made a chill slither up your spine.
When he replied, it was exactly the response he should not have given you.
"Because it doesn't," He spoke in a low, cold tone, turning away and pressing a hand to his temple again like the response had only added to his headache. Much to your surprise, a low smirk played on the edges of his lips, one that was bitter and slightly cruel as he continued with a low laugh, "Tell me-did your little crush on my human half bring you anything but weakness and pain? That human emotion that broke you down to nothing? You can scarcely look upon me without despair, even after months of time."
You froze at his words, eyes widening and breath freezing in your lungs as time seemed to stop entirely. What...? Did he just say that to you, words so harsh and bitterly cruel after all that had happened?If he had started ripping open your wounds before, now he was adding them like slashes of that sword. He was a wrecking ball smashing through the dam holding you back, and it was the biggest mistake he ever could have made.
How dare you.
How dare you say such a thing after all that happened.
How dare you reduce all that I felt to nothing.
Vergil was not expecting you to suddenly lash out, so when you did, the force of your tendrils sent him flying.
He hit the ground hard on his back, rolling once before coming to a skidding halt and bracing himself with the Yamato. That dam holding everything you were holding back had shattered at his cruel, offhanded words, overflowing with so many things you didn't know where to start. Why should you remain restrained when Vergil seemed so hellbent on bringing up the very things that hurt you? Screw that.
The man in question whipped his gaze up, his expression cold and slightly shocked at what you had done. You didn't care. You couldn't begin to care. Every emotion you had pent up, every terrible memory and feeling was spiking at that moment. You were more than an overflowing glass—the glass was shattering now, spreading and absorbing through you like a tidal wave at his sharp, unfeeling words. You felt rage, anger, pain, betray-all wrapped into one volatile bundle.
You didn't spend four months recovering to go through this. You didn't spend one four months finding your happiness with Nico, Nero, Kyrie and all the kids to have this bastard-the same bastard who caused your agony—break it all down with some offhand words. It wasn't fair, and you were done. No more gritting your teeth, bottling everything inside while you and Vergil tried to find a way out of the Void. You didn't deserve to be hurt over and over some feeble attempt to repair what he so carelessly destroyed, finding traces of V being damned under the weight of the rage filling up the space he left behind. You felt your chest heaving with the force of it, eyes black yet blazing as you met Vergil's gaze, tendrils whipping around you like razors.
The man stared back with those eyes you hated so damn much, expression unreadable as he panted, "Foolish woman...!"
You cut him off before the thought could even form, tendrils whipping warning shots around him that he immediately blocked with his Yamato. How was he to call you foolish, a man who refused to love anyone but power? One who had nothing in his life but a sword and that idiotic pride?
I will not be looked down on anymore.
"Fuck you...! What position are you in to look down on others, miserable and pathetic as you are?!" You spat venomously, watching as more surprise slipped onto his face at the heat of your anger. Had anyone seen you this mad before, other than him? Surely not, "You think it was just some fucking crush I had on your human half?! And just what the fuck would you know Vergil?!"
Pain is a reminder that you are alive, right?
You couldn't stop.
"This was never just about me or my feelings, or what you fucking did to me...! So stop trying to hide behind what I felt like it somehow makes me weak…!" You continued furiously, tone dripping with every pent-up emotion, with anger and betrayal as you locked your gaze with his, "And contrary to what you think, Vergil, everything isn't about fucking you either! You think what I felt made me weak?! Who is the weak one here, hiding behind pride and bravado and refusing to own up to their own actions?!"
You balled up your fists, eyes burning and threatening to spill over with tears.
You would not cry. You could not cry.
Pain is a reminder. But-
"This is about the hundreds of thousands of people who died on your idiotic power hunting spree! Do you have any idea how many fucking innocent lives were taken, city ruined, families wiped out so you could summon forth the Qliphoth for a single piece of fruit?!" You could remember it, the image of a little girl's husk frozen with a balloon still in hand. All the people left to die, the blood soaked into the dirt near the tree's base and the destruction wrought. So much was lost, yet he seemed so hellbent on looking away while he left destruction in his wake.
He deserved to feel guilty. He deserved to feel terrible for all he had done. You couldn't waver, not now. Not after all the time you spent burying it all down, trying to be kind.
And yet...Vergil's expression did not shift, silent and stoic even as you continued.
"You use your trauma like some glorified fucking excuse!" Your voice didn't break, eyes wide and black as your hair began to rise, "Look around you Vergil! This is the Void, a place where broken souls come to die!" You spread your arms out wide, breaths coming in broken pants, "This is where my soul was sent when I died my first time! No heaven, no hell, no fucking afterlife! Just the cold, and the dark and...and..."
Your voice cracked, the tears you were trying so deeply to hold in finally spilling. Your voice came out broken, shattered, mirroring your fracturing mind. God damn it, god damn it. He didn't deserve your tears, not after he had taken so many from you. You shouldn't be the one left suffering when it was he who had wrought so much agony from others.
"...Emptiness." You wished you didn't sound so scared, so vulnerable and broken. He didn't deserve to see that side of you again.
You looked away, chest heaving with gasps as you looked out at the floating debris, at the hollow darkness all around. Vergil simply stared, mouth closed and one hand firmly clenched around his Yamato. Ready to block you again if you attacked, no doubt. His face showed no sign of changing, so you continued on further, the torrent unable to stop its flow.
"Can you imagine living a human existence so terrible, so heartbreakingly awful that your soul is sent to a place like this?" You whispered, hands balled up so tight you were sure your nails cut into your skin. You slowly turned to look at him again, tears tracking down pale cheeks, "And my trauma is not gone-I carry that with me, a price I paid when I sold my soul. And yet I still managed to make my choices...! I held onto my humanity, I decided to help people instead of wallowing in my own fucking misery...!"
You took a few deep breaths, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand as you let out a bitter laugh at him.
"What's your excuse?" You said softly, locking eyes with him again as the cold wind of the Void sent your hair whipping past your face.
Vergil's hand clutched that damned sword so hard his knuckles turned white. Yet still, he didn't speak.
You kept talking, now having the momentum and unable to stop.
"You claim this is about me and what I feel, yet don't even think of your own fucking son!" Your voice was like daggers, cutting through the howl of the Void. You saw Vergil's expression shift a little bit at the mention of Nero, an unreadable look in his eyes, "You're so far up your own ass you can't think for one god damn second about Nero and what you fucking did to him!"
You whipped your tendrils out again at him, but this time he didn't block them. A few sliced at his face, leaving small beads of blood to drip down his cheeks.
"Nero is one of my best fucking friends!" You spat, "I've talked him through his own trauma, through the pain of growing up fucking alone because you wanted a quick lay! Because you couldn't be bothered with anything but yourself! All this bullshit to become stronger yet you couldn't even fucking protect your own fucking son...!"
Have I struck a nerve, Vergil?
The son of Sparda looked away, chest starting to rise and fall faster as you managed to break through that stubborn shell just a bit. Nero deserved better than him being impassive, better than a father who couldn't care enough to even try after living in his own ignorance. But Vegril's facial expression still remained cold despite how he was seemingly holding back anger. You weren't having it, no more of Vergil running away from every misery he caused, of every excuse he made. So, you darted over to him, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him up so he was face to face with you again. Adrenaline fueled you, but Vergil provided no resistance to your actions-he merely gritted his teeth, anger now flashing in his eyes at your open hostility.
Show me some real fucking reactions, you bastard. You don't get to slide by unscathed anymore.
"You fucking ripped off his arm!" You snarled, hands shaking as you gripped the fabric tighter, "Your own god damn son! You put him through hell and agony! And you can't even suck up that stupid pride enough to own up to it! You're a miserable excuse for a parent...!"
You couldn't stop. You couldn't stop. You couldn't stop.
You hit him where it hurt, you couldn't stop yourself.
"What the fuck would your mother Eva think?!"
The words no sooner left your mouth and Vergil exploded, grabbing you by the jaw and using the Yamato to try and fling you away with an enraged snarl. You took the blow easily—after years of the Void burning your insides, having them knocked around was child's play. You attached the tendrils to him, whipping you both around as you fought to subdue the angered Sparda with all your might. Another whip of tendrils sent the Yamato flying out of his grasp, skidding across the ground a few feet away. It just barely managed to not fall into the black abyss below. Grappling with him while he was so volatile was not going to work, but you would be damned if you didn't try.
Vergil snarled again, grabbing you by both your wrists and trying to pin you down to the ground. Finally, something other than that smug, condescending bullshit. Real rage was there now, his hands gripping you so tightly you knew it would bruise.
"You know nothing!" He hissed, teeth clenched so hard you were shocked it didn't hurt his jaw, "Don't you fucking presume you know a damn thing about me...!"
You tried to whip a foot up to kick him, shouting back in his face, "You think I give a single shit about your fucking Mommy issues?!" Your chest was heaving, heart hammering so hard you could hear it in your ears, "How could you put your son through the same shit you went through?! You blame Dante and hate him like he's had a life with a silver fucking spoon in his mouth! Yet you never once try to realize that his life was no better than yours!"
"Be quiet," Vergil's voice was low, coming out in an enraged rasp, "Enough...!"
You couldn't stop. You couldn't stop. You couldn't stop.
"You think blaming Dante for everything will somehow make up for your backwards fucking guilt!"
Hurt him like he hurt you.
"But nothing will change the fact that you knew she was coming looking for you when she died!"
Vergil released a yell of rage, lifting you up by your collar and rising to his feet in one fluid motion. He whipped around, holding you over the edge of the debris, feet dangling over the precipice and darkness that was the endless drop below. You stared him down, tears tracking down your face as you met his enraged eyes. And what a sight that was, seeing Vergil's anger unrestrained, walls finally broken down and touching that trauma he hid beneath his layers of icy contempt. His hands were shaking as they gripped you, teeth clenched painfully and eyes alight with more emotion than you had ever seen in them. You made him suffer through the pain of his trauma, you reminded of the very things he never wanted to think about again.
There was agony in this expression, buried layers of guilt you doubted the man had ever wanted to face. That same guilt had existed in V, showing when he talked of his mother Eva and all that he had suffered through. You thought making him feel that pain you suffered would someone ease the ache, or bring a cold sense of glee that he was getting all that he deserved. You hurt him, you hurt him.
You hurt him like he hurt you.
And you felt no satisfaction.
His expression made an ache bloom in your chest, eyes burning with tears that tracked down your face as the anger began to subside, leaving you so very hollow. Why? Why couldn't you just feel better after making him feel bad too? It wasn't fair that he got to slide past all the destruction and loss, curling his lip at any sign of human emotion. But...now he was showing it, feeling the very agony you had spent months pushing down in yourself.
All that remained was the pain, the loss, the wound so fresh and open again. Like he had stabbed into your heart and ripped them open himself while you had dug your gauntlet claws into his skin. Both equally wounding each other, but gaining nothing. This act had brought you nothing but empty anger and reliving the trauma you both had. And in the end...you remembered the words Kyrie had spoken, how her soft kindness had brought forth a sense of peace and the desire to just try. You had released all the pain and rage you had bottled up inside, the vessel that was you entirely shattered and dripping water all around. But the pain still bloomed, it still overflowed, and it didn't stop.
You found no satisfaction in hurting him. And you knew the reason why.
This pain is a reminder. But...not the one you need right now.
"It wasn't your fault." Your voice came out broken and tiny, you weren't sure if he heard it or not. But you saw his face freeze, eyes staring into yours as panting breaths left his mouth. He didn't say a word, hands still shaking as you let your mouth move without thinking.
"You were just a fucking kid, Vergil," You whispered through tears, voice raw and cracking as you lifted your hands to grip his wrists. You could see V in your mind, hunched over his cane and looking so tired as he spoke of losing his mother, of growing up alone. That pain existed in Vergil, just as broken as the man who once held your heart in his hands, "Christ, you were so young. And alone...and..."
A sob broke your words, your mind remembering V's pain, of all the words he told you. You remembered him in his moments of vulnerability, telling you about the mother he regretted never saving. You missed him so much it hurt, you missed being able to hold him and tell him everything was alright. Every kiss, every touch, every soft spoken word. All these months of distracting yourself never took that away, the longing to have him with you again so strong it sought to drown you just as the ocean had.
You missed him so fucking much. But he was still here.
Pain is a reminder—but happiness is too.
Let pain be pain.
You're allowed to be upset, to be angry, to be heartbroken without trying to convince yourself it's needed.
You closed your eyes, hair blowing past your face as you sucked in a pained, shuddering breath. Both parties had suffered in the end, and despite all Vergil had done, no one deserved to grow up alone, feeling unwanted or unloved. No child deserved to suffer and grow up pushing down their own emotion, made to feel like they weren't allowed to show it.
"There was nothing you nor Dante could have to save her, and that isn't your fault...!" You looked up at him, eyes now back to normal and power settling to a dull roar inside your body, "How could anyone expect such a thing of a child, including yourself? You deserved to have someone who could have swooped in and saved you, to tell you everything would be okay and that...that never happened and...and..." Your heart ached so terribly, breaking all over again, "And I'm sorry."
I wanted someone to save me too.
I wanted to be protected and loved too.
And both of us were left wanting.
A moment of long, heavy silence stretched between you and the son of Sparda, his expression frozen somewhere between shock, agony, and disbelief. Had anyone ever taken the time to say something like that to him before, to tell him he was allowed to feel pain and grieve for what he lost? That he deserved to be saved, deserved to live a happy life with people who loved him. For a moment you saw V's vulnerability echoed in his icy blue eyes, making your chest hurt painfully as you waited for him to say something, anything. Would he return back to being mad, was he scrambling to put those walls back up that you had broken down? You were still held up by his hands, your own heart raw and pained as you struggled to pull back your own sense of composure.
You didn't have to wait long. But...however you were expecting Virgil to react, you weren't even close.
Never close enough to this.
Ignorant as always.
You expected him to drop you over the edge, into the void below to fall endlessly until the Deity found you. Or maybe you expected more arguing, more yelling, more anger. Anything. To see his expression turn back to that stoic, stony wall was the picture you had painted, but it never came. Maybe you expected him to throw you away back onto the ground, to wear that cold look on his face as the topic dropped without acknowledgement. That didn't happen either. You didn't know what you expected, still spiraling on the edge of collapsing entirely into your own grief and pain again. Any of those things would have been better. Any of them would have been preferred to what he actually did.
Anything would have been preferred than him kissing you.
You were overflowing with emotions in a cup too full. And now you had shattered.
He yanked you back to him, crushing your lips to his and kissing you hard as one of his hands fisted your hair. Your eyes widened, tears tracking down your cheeks as shock registered inside. So many things traveled through you as you gripped his jacket, unable to process any of it. What was happening to you, to him? If you were on the edge before, his actions sent you spiraling over the precipice, so many terrible things filling you to the brim as your heart hammered faster and faster until you were sure it would burst.
And the worst of those feelings was the feeling of relief.
A sob of absolute relief and pain burst from your lungs, muffled by his mouth and tongue as he continued to kiss you, bringing you both to your knees and holding you like a lifeline. And worse—you were kissing him back. You gripped the back of his head, pressing your body against him like you were drowning and he was air. His taste was on your tongue and you were starving. You couldn't stop. All those feelings, all those emotions were attached to him and you hated yourself for it. V was a part of him, one that you missed and desired so much you couldn't stand yourself-that attachment would not leave no matter how hard you struggled, and to give in was to plunge back into the agony headfirst.
Please please please, God please-
You felt him gasp, teeth biting your lip softly before indulging in you once more. He kissed you so much differently than V. The poet you loved kissed you softly, sensually, gently. His hands would gently stroke through your hair, cup your jaw, slide down your neck. Vergil was rough, unforgiving-fueled by desperation and confusion. He kissed you hard, unyielding, hands shaking and breath ragged. Filled with a pent-up urgency, a messiness V lacked. Out of control, like he had been holding back so much in absolute desperation. There was no more control left in the once-poised man, he was spiraling down just as painfully, just as sporadically. And it broke you.
It seemed to break him too.
I can't. I can't. I can't.
By the time Vergil pulled away you were already sobbing. You heard him panting raggedly, sounding just as on edge as you were. How could he do this to you, continuing to stab that knife into your heart over and over again, unrelenting and cruel? And even more cruel was your own emotion betraying you, slaying you with how much you wanted it, needed it, craved it like the very air you breathed. That kiss was everything, it was everything and nothing all at once. And it wasn't fucking fair. Why couldn't you just let go and move on, why did you have to want this pain so much? Addicted to it, unable to stop getting your fill wherever it could be found and plunging back into that cycle years and years of wanting had brought.
I can't want you, I can't want this.
You aren't him, you aren't the same.
You hurt me so fucking much and that isn't fair.
You couldn't stop yourself—your arms started to move, hitting him on his chest over and over again without any real strength. You couldn't muster it, but you also couldn't stop.
You just wanted it to stop.
"I hate you...!" A whimper at first, then breaking into a heart wrenching sob as you pounded your fists on his chest, "I hate you!"
He didn't try to stop you, and you didn't dare look at his face. His hands rested on your shoulders, unable to let go as you continued to land blow after blow on him. You knew it wasn't enough to hurt him, you knew that. But that wasn't the point anyway.
"I hate you!"
His hand slid up to the back of your head, pulling it to his chest as more ragged breaths left him. You tried to pull away, letting out a broken cry as you tried to hit him again and again, arms beginning to ache with the effort. No no no...he didn't get to do that after all this time, he didn't get to lie and hide away all he remembered and treat you like a weakness. You wanted this embrace, you didn't want this embrace. It hurt, it ached, it throbbed with the most unbelievable sensation of being town in two. And it was all his fault, all V's fault too.
I just want him back. I want you to try. I want something, anything!
"I hate you...! You don't know what you did to me...! You don't know what it felt like...!" You sobbed, breath hitching in broken gasps as tear after tear dripped down your cheeks, "I loved that part of you so much and you act like it's nothing when it was everything…! You hurt me so much and that isn't fair…!"
Pain is a reminder.
But love is too.
Isn't that worth something?
"I know," He said simply, tone quiet and reserved. A stark contrast to his yelling earlier. But still not the same as his usual voice, "I am sorry. I'm sorry, Sparrow."
Don't say that, don't say that name. Don't call me that.
It was not enough.
"I hate you..." Your voice was breaking down, quieter as it dissolved into broken sobs. You were sitting on Vergil's lap, hands clutching the lapel of his coat with your face pressed to his chest. When had you last felt like this, so hollow and fulfilled at the same time? This vulnerability was never something that should have seen the light of day again, meant to be buried until life moved onto something new, something better. But...things never happened that way. You could hear his heart pounding, feel his every breath. And worst of all...this is what finally made you feel relieved. To be held, to be near him. He wasn't V. He wasn't V. But your soul couldn't let him go and it was splitting you in two. Ripped apart like razors inside, worse than the pain of the Void, worse than anything you ever felt.
Your sobs continued for a few for moments in the howl of those equally pained voices, tears dripping onto his clothing as your arms went limp, resting against him as every ounce of fight drained out of you. At the end of the day...he was right, wasn't he? You were weak, and there was no pretending that you weren't. Strength came with time and effort, with moving past all that had happened.
But you never really moved on...did you?
When you spoke again, your voice was so small, so broken you hardly recognized yourself. Tears pattering onto his jacket, eyes closing as you listened to his heart hammer in time with your own and resigning yourself to the pain inside.
You are weak, just as he claimed. Because at the end of the day-
"Why can't I just hate you?"