Lady hadn't planned on ending up in Vergil's bed. Hell, she hadn't planned on ending up in any bed at all.
It was 3am when she awoke from a particularly vivid nightmare. Early, yes, but not so early that she couldn't unreasonably stay up until exhaustion inevitably overtook her once more. She wasn't sure when she had finally admitted to having insomnia. It might even have been someone else who suggested it to her. Trish, perhaps, or maybe Dante, who'd found her aimlessly wandering the shop in the middle of the night on more than one occasion. Either way, it was on that fateful morning, as she'd been drinking her third cup of coffee on the sofa while trying to read a random book she'd found lying about, that things between her and Vergil changed forever.
She was re-reading a page for the umpteenth time, aware that she wasn't processing it all, but too stubborn to give up, when she felt him sit down beside her. He'd approached so quietly that she hadn't even noticed, and her sudden jolt in surprise had resulted in her covering herself rather embarrassingly in the remnants of lukewarm coffee.
"I apologise," Vergil said softly as he helped her to mop up in the kitchen. "I did not mean to startle you. I merely came down for my morning walk and saw that you were awake."
"A morning walk at 4am?" Lady asked, glancing at the clock above the door as she dabbed at the stain on her chest. "Bit early isn't it?"
"Late, for me," Vergil replied, suppressing a yawn. "I have yet to sleep tonight."
Lady paused her movements and glanced up at him. "You too, huh?"
Vergil returned the look and tilted his head slightly. "You looked rather asleep to me when I passed by earlier," he pointed out. "Although quite why you were here and not at your own place does intrigue me, I must admit."
Lady tossed the paper towels she was using into the bin. "It's complicated," she said dismissively. She brushed past him and returned to the sofa, picking up the fallen book. "I thought a change of location might do me good, but I guess I was wrong." She started towards the doors. "Catch you later."
"Wait," Vergil said, following her. "Perhaps you'd like to join me on my morning walk?"
Lady blinked, surprised. "I'm covered in coffee," she pointed out.
"Then I'll lend you a spare shirt," Vergil offered. "It's my fault, after all."
"I…" Lady's eyes flitted towards the door as she weighed up her options. "...You know what, sure," she said hesitantly. "Why not. It might help clear my head a little."
"Wonderful," Vergil said with a faint smile. An awkward silence fell between them before Vergil turned towards the staircase. "This way, then."
"Right…" Lady said, taking one last glance at the exit before shrugging. She'd already agreed to accompany Vergil alone on a walk. If he planned to do her any harm, she might as well be wearing clean clothing while they fought.
"Watch your step," Vergil warned as they neared the upper landing. "The floorboards here are a bit uneven, and the light doesn't work."
"Thanks," Lady mumbled, trying to make out her surroundings in the gloom. She couldn't recall the last time she had been up there. As far as she could remember, it was mostly rooms full of junk – stuff that Dante had collected during his various escapades. She'd had no real reason to come up until now.
"Here we are," Vergil said as they reached the end of the small corridor. There was a brief metal clink, and then an opening appeared in the wall, flooding the darkness with the dusty light of dawn.
"You lock your door?" Lady asked as Vergil held it open for her.
"Wouldn't you, if you lived with Dante?"
"Fair point," Lady agreed, stepping inside. A large window directly opposite the door overlooked the city beyond, and she could just about see the first signs of sunrise in the distance. The room contained a moderately sized bed, a wardrobe, and a bookcase filled to bursting, but little else. And yet despite its simplicity, it felt oddly cosy. Perhaps even welcoming. She liked it. A lot.
"Is something the matter?" Vergil asked behind her, making her jump.
"Oh! I, uh…" she hesitated as a wave of fatigue washed over her. She coughed nervously. "You know, I just realised it's kind of weird entering the room of a guy I don't know very well. Maybe I'll wait out here."
"I can assure you I have no ill intentions," Vergil responded, looking mildly offended. "I can even leave the door open if you like."
"I can wait," Lady said again. She leant against the doorframe and watched as Vergil entered the room and started to rummage through the large oak wardrobe in the corner. Outside, the sky grew lighter, while her eyes grew heavier with each passing second.
"...Not this one," Vergil muttered to himself, holding up various shirts in front of him. "Hm, too big… No, this one is too expensive… My, I forgot this one was even in here…"
Lady wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but the next thing she knew, her face was floating inches above Vergil's immaculate carpet. She let out a yelp as Vergil straightened her up and sat her down on the bed.
"You fell forward," he explained, his eyes wide with concern. "You're lucky I managed to catch you."
"S-Sorry!" Lady stammered, shuffling away from him. She slapped her cheeks in an attempt to clear her thoughts and made to stand up, only for Vergil to push her back down again.
"I think you'd best sit down for a moment," he said seriously. He placed a soft bundle next to Lady and she was vaguely aware of him mentioning silk, but before she knew it, she was in Vergil's arms again.
Vergil tutted and reached into his pocket, producing a small silver key. "Here," he said, offering it to a dazed Lady who just stared blankly at his hand. "I recently got the locks for the door replaced, and this is the only key," he explained. "Neither I nor Dante can enter this room without it. Perhaps it would do you well to stay here for a while."
"Huh?!" Lady cried, finally realising what he was suggesting. "Don't be crazy! I can't just sleep in your bed!"
"And yet a sofa encrusted with demon blood is acceptable?" Vergil retorted. "Besides, with the amount of times Dante has passed out on it, it might as well be his bed."
"Yeah, but that's…" Lady trailed off. She hated to admit it, but Vergil did kind of have a point. Plus, now that she was sitting on it, she realised that not only did his bed look ridiculously comfortable, it felt amazing too. It smelt of freshly washed linen, and the covers felt way too soft under her tired fingertips to belong to someone living in what was basically an attic.
"I haven't slept in it since I changed it," Vergil added, almost as though he were trying to make it seem as appealing as possible. He hummed and looked out of the window. "Actually, probably not since before then, either."
"...Just how long have you been awake?" Lady yawned, feeling her head start to spin again. The short sleep she had managed earlier had probably been the longest she herself had slept in about 48 hours.
"Long enough to notice that the sunrise is taking longer to arrive these days," Vergil said quietly. "Although that doesn't make it any less beautiful."
"Poetic as always," Lady mumbled. She could feel herself tilting sideways again. Even the pillows felt amazing. Maybe just a few minutes wouldn't hurt…
"I've placed the shirt on the bed," Vergil said, gesturing beside her. "I'll lock the door then slip the key underneath so you'll know I can't sneak back in. Does that sound acceptable?"
Lady mumbled a vague response and then heard the sound of curtains being drawn.
The next thing she remembered after that was waking up some twelve hours later in a strange room, panicking for a moment that she had been kidnapped, and then lying there for a further hour or so while she questioned her life choices. By the time she stumbled downstairs in an oversized blue silk shirt, she was convinced that she must have been drugged somehow and was prepared to rip Vergil a new one. When she found the office empty however, she embarrassedly collected her belongings and made her way home, trying not to dwell on the fact that the best sleep she'd had for weeks was in the bed of a man who previously had barely even acknowledged her existence.
It didn't take her long to go back.
The next few days were spent avoiding the office and deflecting Dante's concerned questioning whenever they ran into each other. But the next few nights were once again spent lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the nightmares to come. Often she would just give up and go out hunting or exercising – anything to keep her mind busy. But by the time she'd had about five hours of sleep in as many days, she couldn't take it any more.
It was 2am when Vergil heard a knock on his bedroom door, and opened it to find a somewhat dishevelled, and very embarrassed Lady standing there holding a small plastic bag.
"Your shirt," she said bluntly, shoving the parcel into Vergil's chest. "Sorry for not bringing it back sooner."
"Thank you for leaving the key in the door," Vergil replied, welcoming her inside.
"The…? Oh." Lady barely even remembered leaving the room, let alone what she had done with the key. "You're welcome, I guess?" She hovered by the doorway a moment longer, before letting out an annoyed groan and flinging herself towards Vergil's bed. "Damn it, I can't take it any more!" she yelled into the soft fabric of the duvet as she rolled herself up in it.
Vergil watched, bemused, before clearing his throat. "You rested well, then?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Lady stopped rocking back and forth and stared up at him, her face half buried in bedding, and her cheeks glowing practically crimson.
"I'm sorry!" she blurted out, squeezing her eyes shut. "This is so stupid… Pathetic even! I have no idea what's wrong with me! But there's just something about this room, this bed that–!"
Vergil crossed his arms and waited for her tirade of self insults to end. "Yes, you can stay here again," he said, after she'd devolved into a series of sobs. "And no, I don't need anything in return."
Lady's tearful eyes met his and she shook her head. "This isn't right," she rasped. "We barely even know each other. What if Dante got the wrong idea–"
"To hell with what Dante thinks," Vergil said, although he still kept his voice down. "You need it, so use it."
"Why are you doing this for me?" Lady sniffled, finally sitting up again. "We hardly said hello to each other before, and now suddenly you're giving me shirts and letting me sleep in your – ridiculously comfortable – bed. What's the deal?"
"That's for me to know," Vergil said vaguely, getting to his feet. "I changed the covers again," he added, placing the key on the bedside table beside her. "And no, I still have not slept in it."
With that, he left the room. And within minutes, Lady was asleep.
Somehow, despite Lady's reservations, their strange, non-transactional arrangement continued. Outside of sleep related matters, the pair hardly ever spoke, offering no more than a nod between each other should they encounter each other during the day. At first Lady's embarrassment meant that she would only turn up once a week or so, if that. But that soon became twice a week, then every other day, and then before she knew it, she was basically Vergil's roommate.
Eventually they began to talk more, during those brief moments they spent together in his room. It was mostly just pleasantries or small updates about how their weeks had been, but never anything deeper, which seemed to suit them both just fine. And so, their unexpected friendship grew, little by little, until one evening as Vergil was placing the key on the bedside table, Lady asked him to wait.
For a while now, something had been bothering her. Other than the fact, of course, that she had stolen someone else's bed. It was a niggling feeling in the back of her mind, a burning curiosity that she'd meant to mention to him sooner, but had been too selfish, too focussed on her own comfort to pursue. Now, however, the nights were drawing in, and her improved sleep schedule meant that she could finally think clearly again and question the consequences of their setup.
"Is there an issue with the bed?" Vergil asked as she called out to him, his brow furrowed.
"The bed is fine," Lady said, bouncing up and down on it slightly to prove her point. She glanced towards the window and sighed, the distant sounds of thunder spurring her on further. "I'm… more worried about you."
Vergil stepped back, narrowing his eyes. "You surely don't still have reservations about my intentions at this point?" he asked defensively. "I think I have made it quite clear by now that this is the only key, and–"
"I meant your wellbeing, you idiot," Lady snapped, immediately regretting doing so. Although they had become noticeably more casual with each other over the last few weeks, Lady still felt a slight twinge of fear in her stomach when Vergil's eyes darkened.
"Go on," he said flatly.
Lady fiddled nervously with the duvet. She wasn't good at this sort of thing, and never had been. Perhaps that was yet another reason she had failed to mention this sooner. "Well, it's just…" The steady patter of rain started to tap against the window, and Vergil's jaw twitched almost imperceptibly. "I'm curious about where you've been sleeping," Lady said quietly. "Since I've taken over your bed, and all."
"I haven't," Vergil said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought I'd made that quite clear."
"Yeah, but…" Lady huffed and crossed her arms. "I just want to make sure you have somewhere to go, I guess. If you've been wandering the streets because of me–"
"What I do during my free time is none of your concern," Vergil stated, heading for the door. "Now then, if that's all–"
"My apartment!" Lady blurted out.
Vergil's hand paused mid-air. "...Excuse me?"
"You can stay there!" Lady averted her eyes. "If you want, I mean… To sleep! Nothing else!"
"I'm afraid I don't follow."
"Alright, look…" Lady straightened up. "I still don't fully understand it, and it's weird as heck, but sleeping in your room just… works for some reason. It only seems fair that I offer you a similar gesture in return for letting me crash here for so long."
"I…" Vergil's voice wavered slightly. "I appreciate the kind offer, but I must say that what you're suggesting is quite frankly ridiculous."
"And this isn't?" Lady retorted, gesturing to her surroundings.
"Well, yes, but…" Vergil ran a hand through his already perfectly neat hair. "There's quite a difference between borrowing a room versus an entire home."
"I'd argue just borrowing a bed is actually a lot stranger," Lady said with a smirk. "One might even say there's something more intima–"
"Don't," Vergil said firmly. He took a deep breath. "As previously stated, my intentions are–"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Lady said, waving a hand dismissively in the air. "Don't worry, I'm not exactly interested in you that way either. But don't you think you should at least consider my proposal?"
"I'll pass," Vergil said, yanking the door open.
"Stay here with me, then!" Lady called out as a flash of lightning lit up the room. Vergil froze, and the shiver that ran down his spine was obvious to Lady, even from a short distance away.
"Don't be absurd," he hissed through clenched teeth.
"I can't let you go out in that," Lady said seriously. "And if you refuse to take the offer of my apartment, then I don't see any other choice."
At this, Vergil finally turned to face her again. His eyes were wild and an uncharacteristic smudge of crimson was slowly working its way across his face. "Do you even hear yourself?" he asked, clearly trying to keep his composure. "Just what exactly are you trying to propose here?"
Lady's eyes widened and she held her hands up defensively. "I don't mean it in a…" she gulped. "In a y'know kinda way…" she clasped her hands together nervously. "I just think that…"
"Please do enlighten me," Vergil said, looking her up and down. "I'm sure you'll forgive me for having misgivings when a young woman sitting on my bed is asking me to spend the night with her."
Lady scoffed. "I'd hardly call myself a young woman these days…" She shook her head. "Look, I just think you might benefit from a change of pace, that's all," she said. "We can just stay up and talk all night. Heck, we can talk for as long as it takes for you to finally get some sleep if that's what you want."
"We can talk during the day," Vergil said coldly. "Now, goodnight."
"Damn it Vergil, I just want to help you out, so let me!" Lady yelled, getting to her feet.
As if on cue, the lights went out. A peal of thunder cracked through the air as the last remnants of light faded from the room. Lady froze, just barely able to make out Vergil's silhouette in the darkness. Vergil, who could see almost as well as he could in the light, walked over to her and placed a strong hand on each of her shoulders, pushing her back down onto the bed.
"You're lucky Dante is out tonight, otherwise this would be quite hard to explain," he said calmly. "I told you to keep your voice down."
"Well maybe if you just listened to me–"
"I'll check the fuse box," Vergil stated. "The metre should be sufficiently funded, so I doubt it's that."
"Vergil," Lady said, reaching to grab him but grasping at air instead. She sensed him pause. "Can't you take a moment to just stop? Just for once?"
"Wouldn't it make more sense to fix the problem first?"
"Not necessarily." Lady stumbled her way over to the window and yanked the curtains open. The entire street was dark. "Looks like a power cut," she said, almost triumphantly. "No choice but to wait."
"How irritating," Vergil said, appearing beside her. He rested a hand on the cool glass and glanced around outside. "I suppose it will have to be candles, then," he said, moving away.
"Or," Lady said, tugging on his sleeve, "we could just sit like this for a while. Try to work out why you haven't been sleeping."
"I don't need sleep," Vergil said, yanking himself free. "And I certainly don't need to sit in the dark discussing my feelings either." He sighed. "Get some rest. I'll make sure the power is back on by tomorrow."
"Let's talk about me then," Lady said, catching his coattail. "Tell me why you've been letting me stay here, Vergil, it's been driving me crazy!"
"Because you need it," Vergil replied, shrugging his coat off.
Lady tossed the heavy garment aside and, in an act of impulse, wrapped her arms around his waist instead. This time he didn't pull away. "Lots of people need lots of things, it doesn't mean others just randomly give them to them," Lady said, suddenly unsure of how to proceed from here. Panic pricked at her skin as she realised what she'd done. She had hugged Dante before – many times, in fact – but this felt different. Vergil was rigid beneath her touch, his body sharp and unfamiliar. And now, with her arms still around him, the weight of her actions was settling in. She wanted to pull away, but it was too late. So instead, she tightened her grip. "You barely know me, Vergil, so why? What triggered this sudden gesture of goodwill for nothing in return? What's your endgame here?" She felt Vergil tense.
"There is no endgame," he hissed. "And quite frankly, I find the fact that you think there is to be increasingly frustrating."
Vergil pried Lady's arms apart with startling ease and turned swiftly, pinning them by her sides. The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. Even the distant hum of the wind outside felt muted.
"You want to know why I'm doing this?" he asked. He loomed closer, bending to look into her eyes, even though she couldn't return the gesture. "It's because this is all my fault."
Lady's breath hitched. "What–"
"I heard you that night," Vergil interrupted, his tone cutting through her confusion as he released her from his grasp. She instinctively pulled back, rubbing the skin where his fingers had pressed too hard. "When you were sleeping downstairs." His hands fell to his sides. "You were screaming for someone to set you free, begging to be let out. You were sobbing, asking over and over – Why? Why me? And in the midst of all your cries, a name kept coming up, again, and again…" He looked out of the window behind her, his eyes shining in the dark.
"Artemis…" Lady whispered, quietly bringing a hand to her chest. She knew she'd been having nightmares, but by the time she woke up, they'd usually faded from memory, leaving nothing behind but a vague sense of dread. Now things were finally starting to make a bit more sense.
Vergil started to pace about the room. "Every time I look at you, I am forced to remember what I did to you." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I of all people should know what happens when you are forced to act against your will." His steps faltered, as though the weight of his actions pressed down on him. "The loss of control... the helplessness that gnaws at you, even long after it's over." His hands clenched into fists, knuckles whitening as the memories seemed to claw at him from the inside. "It is no coincidence," he continued, his voice tightening, "that its cries so closely echoed your own."
He stepped towards her and gently gripped her shoulders again. "I hurt you in ways that no one should ever have to experience, and that's something that can never be undone. So if this damned bed offers you any sort of respite from that burden, even if just for a few hours, then I'll spend as long as it takes wandering the streets alone, because it's all I can do."
Lightning filled the room again, and in the brief moment of illumination, Lady saw tears staining his cheeks. He let her go and stepped back, and even in the gloom, Lady could see that his chest was heaving. Lady closed her eyes for a moment, torn between a sudden surge of anger and a deep, unexpected pity for the man in front of her. Silence stretched between them as thunder rumbled outside.
"I…" Lady began at last, swallowing hard as her voice caught in her throat. She couldn't quite bring herself to say I forgive you. Not when she wasn't sure if she ever could. And so she instead offered the next best thing: "It wasn't your fault," she said quietly. She held up a hand to silence Vergil as he started to protest. "Not all of it."
Vergil scoffed. "I don't need you to make excuses for me. I'm no better than Mundus. Perhaps I am even worse. After all, I meant nothing to Mundus, but you–" He inhaled sharply and turned away, unable to continue.
"The person – no, the demon – who trapped me inside that thing wasn't you, you know it wasn't."
"It was still a part of me," Vergil insisted. "Urizen was the true power I had sought, and if it hadn't been for everyone else getting in my way, I would surely have been quite content to continue with my path of destruction."
"If you truly believed that, then you –yes, you, not 'V' – wouldn't have sought help. As soon as you realised what you'd done, you did everything in your power to fix it. Because of you, Trish and I were saved."
"If I hadn't been such a selfish, delusional fool, it would have never happened to begin with," Vergil growled.
"Alright, fine. So maybe splitting yourself in half wasn't exactly the brightest idea, but you know what I think?" She stepped towards him, trying to find him in the shadows. "I think if you'd really intended to do Trish and I any harm, you'd have killed us on the spot."
"I–"
"Why bother keeping us alive?" Lady continued. "Why risk having us around, knowing that we could escape at any moment? You could have enslaved any demons you wanted Vergil, so why? Why bother to use us?"
"I don't understand why you're trying to justify my actions," Vergil said quietly.
"Oh, far from it," Lady said. "You did some terrible things, Vergil, there's no denying that. But deep down, you also kept us safe. Consciously or not, you gave us everything we needed to defend ourselves against the chaos you had strewn. If you – if Urizen – hadn't made the decision that he did, there's not a chance in hell we'd have survived long enough for Dante and Nero to save the day." She laughed dryly. "Well, maybe Trish might have, but I certainly wouldn't."
"...You're insane," Vergil said at last.
"Oh, probably," Lady agreed. "But then who isn't in this line of work?" She suddenly noticed that over the course of their conversation, she had somehow backed him against the wall without realising. She stepped back.
"How can you stand so calmly before the cause of your nightmares and try to pretend that you don't hate me?" Vergil asked, raising his voice. "Don't you think I should suffer in some way? Pay for my actions?"
Lady sighed and leant against the wall beside him. "Vergil, we've been spending time together for months now. If I was gonna get mad at you, I'd have done it already."
"Well then, why haven't you?"
"I don't have the patience to hold grudges," she said. "Not any more." She crossed her arms and stared at nothing in particular. "You're not the only one who's made mistakes, Vergil. But it's how we deal with the aftermath that defines us." There was a pause before she continued. "Look… What happened with Urizen, with V… It made me realise just how short our time really is, y'know? Especially doing what we do. When you know that every assignment could be your last, it kinda puts things into perspective a little. Yes, we've both done some awful, unforgivable things, but we're also still alive. And I don't want to waste what little time I have left being bitter, because then it really would have all been for nothing."
Vergil shifted beside her, his voice a low murmur. "And what if bitterness is all that's left?" he asked. "My mistakes, my regrets - they're always there. I can't just move on and forget."
"We might have moved on Vergil, but we haven't forgotten," Lady said. "You and Dante were gone for almost two years. Time can heal the wounds, but it can never erase the scars. I can't tell you how to live your life, but perhaps you should start by showing those who are willing to give you a chance that they made the right choice by believing in you."
"And what would you have me do exactly?" Vergil asked desperately. "Especially when everyone I talk to seems to be intent on pretending none of it ever happened."
"Redemption is more than just words," Lady said. "I would have thought someone as smart as you would have figured that out by now."
Vergil pushed himself away from the wall. "...You are a strange and confusing woman," he muttered, although there was no bite in his tone this time. If anything, there was a hint of reluctant appreciation.
"You're only just figuring that out now?" Lady laughed.
Vergil made his way silently over to the window and stared out at the storm. "I must say, however, that your dreams would suggest that you are perhaps not quite as good at moving on as you think you are."
"Hey, I can't control what happens inside my brain," Lady huffed. "But what I can do is try not to let it dictate my life."
"Ah yes, and that was going so well for you that now you're here, lecturing me on my own self-loathing," Vergil said dryly. "Clearly your proposed coping mechanisms are working perfectly."
"Mock me all you want, Vergil; I've said my piece, and my thoughts on the matter won't change." Her voice softened, carrying a hint of resignation. "If I let myself resent you, then I'd have to resent myself too, because as much as it pains me to admit it, we're more alike than you might realise."
A long silence followed, filled only by the distant rumble of thunder. Vergil's shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of his internal struggle evident in his posture. He finally sank onto the edge of the bed, his movements weary.
"…The darkness," he said, after a pause so long Lady was starting to think he'd fallen asleep.
"...What about it?"
"You asked why I haven't been sleeping," Vergil murmured, almost to himself. "That's why." The mattress squeaked as he shifted uneasily. "I can't stand the darkness anymore. Being alone with it, trapped in my own thoughts… I do everything in my power to avoid it. Sometimes I walk, oftentimes I read, but I never sleep. I can't."
"So that's why you were so desperate to fix the lighting in here," Lady said, feeling a little guilty. "Oops."
Vergil laughed dryly. "It's fine," he said. "Somehow, it feels different with someone else here to distract me."
"If you want me to go look for some candles, I can–"
"Stay," Vergil commanded. "I am not a child. It is not a fear of the dark itself, as such." He laid back on the bed and exhaled. "It's something deeper than that, something…" He reached his hand out above him. "I feel like there's a presence out there, calling me. Hiding in the shadows, waiting for me to lose my way again and…" He trailed off, his hand falling beside him. "I should have stayed in Hell where I belong," Vergil continued, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. "It's almost all I've ever known, I don't belong here any more."
"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?" Lady snapped, making her way over. "What good would festering in the underworld do? Then you'd just be miserable surrounded by demons, instead of by people who care about you." She chuckled. "Well, mostly anyway."
"I'm only here because of Dante. I figured if I couldn't make amends for what I did, then I would at least try to avoid causing my brother any more pain. Damn fool is too trusting for his own good."
"Maybe so, but is that necessarily a bad thing? Perhaps if you stepped back a little and tried to see it as a second chance, you could start to move on."
"Second, third, tenth, it doesn't matter how many lives I get, it can't erase the things I've done." He covered his face with his arm. "And now you, too, are trying to help me… What the hell is wrong with you all? Where am I meant to go from here?"
"I'm not offering you sympathy, Vergil, nor am I trying to excuse what you've done. I'm offering tolerance. And the chance to atone." She sat down on the bed beside him. "Yeah, you sucked. You were a selfish, greedy, power-hungry maniac. Maybe you still are, but if that's the case then you're doing a good job of hiding it these days. You hurt a lot of people, me included. So stop moping, and do something about it."
Vergil remained still, his voice tense. "I don't know if I can ever make up for what I've done. I don't even know if I deserve the chance to."
"Well, lending me your bed was a good start," Lady said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. "Turns out you can cure nightmares as well as cause them, huh?" She winced when Vergil let out a pained groan. Alright, so maybe humour wasn't the best approach right now. Noted.
"...I should go," Vergil said, trying to sit up. "I've kept you awake long enough with my pathetic ramblings."
"I think we both know I'm not going to let you leave like this," Lady said, pushing him back down as he had done to her earlier. She paused, then took one of his hands in hers. "Look… I don't really get why I'm doing this either, but I'm here for you. You said yourself that the darkness feels different with someone to distract you. So… let me be your distraction."
Vergil looked at her for a moment, his eyes reflecting the dim light from outside. Then, he pulled Lady into a tight embrace, eliciting a small gasp. "You're a complete and utter fool," he breathed into her ear. "You all are. But…" He squeezed even tighter. "...Thank you," he whispered. As suddenly as he'd been holding her, he let go again. Yet, their fingers remained entwined.
Lady stared down at their hands, chuckling softly. "Funny," she said, unable to help herself, "I could say the same thing about you."
A noise escaped Vergil that might have been an attempt at a laugh. "Perhaps," he muttered. "But at least I'm aware of it."
They sat there side by side, listening to the rhythmic pounding of the rain. Neither spoke, the silence stretching between them like a spider thread neither wanted to break. It wasn't comfortable, not exactly, but it wasn't unbearable either. After a while, Vergil's shoulders began to relax, the tension slowly draining from his body as he leaned back against the mattress, though he remained quiet.
Lady hesitated before following his lead, sinking into the duvet beside him. She stole a glance in his direction, trying to tell if he was still awake. His breathing had slowed, but it was controlled, almost deliberate, and she thought she could make out the faint movement of his eyes blinking in the dark. She carefully reached out, pausing for a brief moment, before laying her free hand on his chest. His body tensed beneath her touch, and she felt the rapid, uneven thrum of his heart racing under her palm – far too intense for someone merely lying down.
"When the rain lets up," Lady said softly, "Maybe we should take that morning walk we never managed."
"...I'd like that," Vergil said, his voice barely audible. He squeezed her hand gently. "...It might help clear my head a little."
Lady saw Vergil's eyes close, at last. Eventually, his breathing deepened and his body relaxed further, though his grip on her hand remained firm. Lady knew that what she was doing probably wasn't entirely rational, given that the man beside her was quite literally the source of her nightmares. And yet, as she felt the warmth of his hand in hers, she knew that she didn't hate him. Her mind drifted as her own exhaustion took hold, and despite the chaos of emotions swirling within her, she found herself sinking into a deeper, more peaceful sleep than she'd had in months.