[ It isn't that Dante doubts him, Vergil isn't the sort to make empty threats or promises, he just... is being petulant for the sake of it. Resisting because he's being lectured like a ten year old, because it's his own brother lecturing him on keeping the fridge clean and maybe eating something other than pizza. Because he doesn't really know what else to do.
Because underneath the high and mighty attitude Vergil always puts forth it almost seems like he's concerned for Dante's well being.
Dante watches the display, feigning disinterest, expecting Vergil to disappear back into the kitchen or something. Except he isn't. Except he just stands there. That sense of dread washes over Dante again, pulling feet from the desk to land flat again. Dammit, where are the girls when he needs them? Or, hell, Nero would be more than welcome than whatever is about to transpire.
Why haven't you been sleeping, Dante?
There it is again, that concern Dante doesn't know what the hell to do with. He stands with a laugh, walking over to the couch to unceremoniously fall down on it. ]
Why do you care? Been interrupting your beauty sleep or something?
[ At least this seems to be as excruciating for Dante as it is for him. Vergil watches as Dante crosses through his vision and past the bottle that is somehow incredibly interesting to stare at, only to fall across the couch. He remembers the Dante of before, when they had fought atop the Temen-ni-gru. When Dante had reached out, to stop him from falling into the demon world. Barely, almost as if through static, he remembers fighting Dante on Mallet Island and seeing his half of the amulet.
The Dante in front of him seems... diminished. Deflated, almost. Vergil has no idea how to address it, but now that he's put the question out there, he can't very well take it back.
There are no words for how little he wants to have this conversation. He will not run from it, though. ]
No. I find myself unable to sleep, as well.
[ Said as imperiously as possible, his chin raised in defiance and challenging Dante to make a comment about it. Only for a moment, before he crosses back toward Dante's desk, leaning back against it and crossing his arms over his chest. Suddenly, the (still) broken jukebox in the corner of the room is the most fascinating thing in the world, even as his fingers find a loose thread on one of his sleeves and start to worry at it.
Perhaps the best way to get Dante to stop deflecting is to speak honestly. It might actually be the first time in their lives, if he thinks about it.
What he wouldn't give for a demon to come crashing through the wall to interrupt right now. They can ill afford it, but — please. ]
Rest has been.. a difficult thing to come by. It comes as no comfort to find that I am not the only one experiencing this issue.
[ Talk about it as clinically and detached as possible. Maybe that will make it easier. It won't. ]
[ Why can't he just drop it? Why does Vergil have to prod at the things that not even the girls are willing to poke at? It'd be easier if he did instead of dragging them both down a path neither of them really want to go down. But they're here and it doesn't look like there is any out of it. No demon crashing through the window, no Lady coming to collect on an ever increasing debt.
Nothing.
Dante exhales, dragging a gloved hand down his face. ]
You really wanna know?
[ There's no way to avoid the conversation, no getting out of it as much as Dante desperately wants to. Fine, he'll talk about it then. He'll give Vergil every little detail if that's what he wants. Pushing himself up he looks over at Vergil, leaning against his desk focused on the still broken jukebox. Ha, if he thinks he can get through this by being as detached as possible he has another damn thing coming. ]
Well, you see some years ago I had to kill my own brother. With my own two hands. It was pretty rough, you know? Years of being trapped in the underworld and I find him again, brainwashed into being the flunky of the asshole who killed our mother and I had to kill him. [ It's still there, in his desk, the two halves of the amulet that their mother gave them before she died. ] Man, I spent so damn long grieving my asshole brother. Thinking I should have done more to get him back. Then I find out that shit, looks like he had a kid at some point and for some crazy reason left him with a cult that worshiped Dad as a god.
[ He leans back into the couch, resting a foot on top of a propped up knee. Yeah, Dante can't detach himself from this. Emotion wells up in his voice, his expression, that uncomfortable mix of anger and relief and hurt. ]
And then after all that shit in Fortuna, after entrusting his kid with his most precious possession, the asshole comes back. Doesn't just come back, he cuts off his own son's arm and goes straight back onto his bullshit again. Almost destroys an entire city again for power, as if he didn't learn from the last time he tried to pull that shit.
But hey, that really isn't the point is it? Nah, point is that after all that bullshit somehow I got my shitty brother back. Alive, whole, not some twisted brainwashed form of himself. He's back.
[ Then Dante deflates, sinking further into the couch. ]
He's back and part of me doesn't know what the hell I'm supposed to do with this. Part of me is terrified that it's all in my head. That now that I've got the only family I've got back, he's gonna disappear, pull some of the same shit he has pulled before, and I'm gonna have to kill him. Again.
[ Vergil is silent the entire time Dante speaks. What can he say? He did indeed ask for this, knowing full well that he is likely the cause of Dante's troubles. Somehow, he'd suspected that confirming this truth would make him feel better; it comes as no surprise, then, that it doesn't help at all.
The trip down memory lane isn't entirely welcome, but he supposes it's the least of his worries. Briefly, he remembers his time as Mundus' slave, only vaguely remembers the woman in Fortuna. Far more clear are his memories when he and Dante had fought together to defeat Arkham, and when he'd discovered a boy with a demonic arm and needed to take it back. Would Dante understand that, without taking Nero's arm, without doing what he'd done, Vergil would not be standing here in front of him? He isn't sure. Still — how does he explain what he's done? Can he? Probably not in a way that matters.
So he won't. Not unless Dante asks. There is no justification, no explanation that will serve. Urizen's decisions were not my own. It's as flimsy an excuse as it sounds; Urizen is as much a part of him as V had been; by proxy, whatever choices had been made were his.
I'm gonna have to kill him. Again. ]
No. You won't.
[ He still refuses to look at Dante as he responds. There's a deep breath, his fingers digging into his arm almost to the point of pain. He asked for this. He will accept the consequences. ]
I will not make excuses for myself, Dante. I'm aware of the consequences of my actions. [ He pushes away from the desk, hands curling into fists before he rests one on the hilt of the Yamato. ] I'm also not so foolish as to repeat the same mistakes. If that's what you want, I'll take my leave. As you said, you've done just fine in my absence.
[ Just say the word, Dante. He will tear open a portal here and now. ]
[ Maybe, maybe not. Dante can't admit to understanding what ran through his brother's head, in part because he never asked and in part because he always just assumed. Power for power's sake, right? To settle a rivalry that they've always had since they were kids. To lord over Dante like he used to.
Maybe he should have asked, actually sat down and listened to his brothers reasons for what he did. But it wouldn't have changed much in the end. Dante still would have tried to stop him at Temen-ni-gru, still would have been prepared to kill Urizen and stop V from returning. But maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to understand a bit better. Maybe. ]
Won't I?
[ He wants to believe him, desperately, he'd be more than happy to cling to those words never think about any of this shit ever again. But there is a tiny seed of doubt in the back of his head, scratching away at the corners of his mind. Keeping him awake, keeping him on edge, urging him to check just this once (it's never just this once) that Vergil is still there.
Dante lifts his chin, focusing his gaze properly on Vergil instead of the space just next to him, fingers absently curling into fists. ]
I wouldn't have accepted any excuses anyway. [ Not for Temen-ni-gru, not for all the shit with Urizen. Mundus, that is a different story. ] And no, I don't want you to leave. You think after all these years I actually want you to disappear out of my life again? Shit Vergil, I wouldn't have gone down there with you if I wanted you gone.
[ He stands, suddenly, crossing the space with a few quick strides until he's standing beside Vergil. ]
I probably would have been doing better if you were around, idiot.
[ It's all the confirmation Dante is going to get. There's tight-lipped, and there's Vergil; there is no good way for him to explain that he remembers, now, why he sought power in the first place. That being V, even for that small amount of time, reminded him of what he'd lost. Why he'd endeavored for so long to become strong.
A small voice in the back of his mind reminds him, then, that he still needs to find a way to properly thank Nero for it.
Still, he won't deny that a part of him is surprised that Dante does not wish him gone. They've been at odds for so long, for more of their lives than they'd ever spent together — how easy it would be to fall back into old habits, maintain that distance. Finally, he turns to look at his brother, watching as he comes to stand beside him with an eyebrow raised. ]
And here I'd thought you'd joined me to "keep an eye" on me. [ His grip loosens on the Yamato's hilt, and this time when his arms cross over his chest, it's a far more relaxed stance. ] I'll admit, it was.. an interesting change, to have someone fighting at my side.
[ Nostalgic, even, though he won't say that. He's also never going to admit that the differences between then and his first trip to Hell had been nearly overwhelming; from time to time, he finds himself wondering what would have happened if he'd been able to swallow his pride and accept Dante's help.
It's too late to dwell on such things, but — he's here now. So instead he'll just take a deep breath, let himself relax just a hair. ]
Well. We're here now. [ And because they can't have nice things: ] As long as you remember to get rid of old pizzas, I see no reason why that should change.
[ There is a part of him that has always been curious and a part of him that doesn't want to know, fearing the truth might be exactly what he always thought it to be ─ or it'd be so very alien that he'd struggle to accept it. It's probably better off remaining a mystery, at least for the time being.
A grin starts to form on Dante's lips, tension draining from his shoulders as a hand rests on his hip. ]
I told the kid I would. [ He didn't want Nero to lose his old man like they lost theirs. ] Yeah, we work pretty damn well together.
[ The memory makes him think of Temen-ni-gru, of the day Vergil fell; since their return Dante sometimes wonders how things would have changed if he had jumped in after him that day. He wouldn't have met Trish, there probably wouldn't have been a reason for Mundus to create her, and that thought leaves something uncomfortable sitting in the middle of his chest.
It doesn't matter now, what's done is done. ]
Fine, fine. [ Dante shakes his head, shoulders slumping in an overdramatic shrug. ] I'll try not to leave molding pizza in the fridge anymore. But you have to promise to try talking to your damn son sometime, you know how awkward it gets when he comes around?
[ Strange, how seeing the grin quirking Dante's mouth inspires a tiny mirror on his own. Far more casual this time as he looks away, and for a moment, Vergil wonders if this might be what they'd been missing all these years. ]
I suppose we do. Though you're kidding yourself if you still think you're up one.
[ Because what is a family without a little bit of brotherly rivalry? Surely it won't spiral into anythin— wait. Vergil chuckles to himself, a quiet sound. It's...a strange feeling, to have this. His brother at his side, neither of them at the other's throat. To feel welcome, even.
At least, until Dante mentions Nero. A frown crosses Vergil's face, his eyes narrowing as he looks at him. ]
Nero? [ And isn't that just odd, thinking of Nero as his son. ] What would we have to talk about?
[ Of course he notices how awkward it gets. He's one of the uncomfortable parties. How is the supposed to approach the boy, though, when they had already met through V? He has no idea the protocol, what should happen — is he supposed to reintroduce himself? ]
He knows where I am; if he wishes to speak to me, he need only speak up.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
he is, thank you for noticing
[ It isn't that Dante doubts him, Vergil isn't the sort to make empty threats or promises, he just... is being petulant for the sake of it. Resisting because he's being lectured like a ten year old, because it's his own brother lecturing him on keeping the fridge clean and maybe eating something other than pizza. Because he doesn't really know what else to do.
Because underneath the high and mighty attitude Vergil always puts forth it almost seems like he's concerned for Dante's well being.
Dante watches the display, feigning disinterest, expecting Vergil to disappear back into the kitchen or something. Except he isn't. Except he just stands there. That sense of dread washes over Dante again, pulling feet from the desk to land flat again. Dammit, where are the girls when he needs them? Or, hell, Nero would be more than welcome than whatever is about to transpire.
Why haven't you been sleeping, Dante?
There it is again, that concern Dante doesn't know what the hell to do with. He stands with a laugh, walking over to the couch to unceremoniously fall down on it. ]
Why do you care? Been interrupting your beauty sleep or something?
vergil, internally: [screaming cowboy meme]
The Dante in front of him seems... diminished. Deflated, almost. Vergil has no idea how to address it, but now that he's put the question out there, he can't very well take it back.
There are no words for how little he wants to have this conversation. He will not run from it, though. ]
No. I find myself unable to sleep, as well.
[ Said as imperiously as possible, his chin raised in defiance and challenging Dante to make a comment about it. Only for a moment, before he crosses back toward Dante's desk, leaning back against it and crossing his arms over his chest. Suddenly, the (still) broken jukebox in the corner of the room is the most fascinating thing in the world, even as his fingers find a loose thread on one of his sleeves and start to worry at it.
Perhaps the best way to get Dante to stop deflecting is to speak honestly. It might actually be the first time in their lives, if he thinks about it.
What he wouldn't give for a demon to come crashing through the wall to interrupt right now. They can ill afford it, but — please. ]
Rest has been.. a difficult thing to come by. It comes as no comfort to find that I am not the only one experiencing this issue.
[ Talk about it as clinically and detached as possible. Maybe that will make it easier.
It won't.]dante, internally: ABORT ABORT ABORT [sirens!!!]
Nothing.
Dante exhales, dragging a gloved hand down his face. ]
You really wanna know?
[ There's no way to avoid the conversation, no getting out of it as much as Dante desperately wants to. Fine, he'll talk about it then. He'll give Vergil every little detail if that's what he wants. Pushing himself up he looks over at Vergil, leaning against his desk focused on the still broken jukebox. Ha, if he thinks he can get through this by being as detached as possible he has another damn thing coming. ]
Well, you see some years ago I had to kill my own brother. With my own two hands. It was pretty rough, you know? Years of being trapped in the underworld and I find him again, brainwashed into being the flunky of the asshole who killed our mother and I had to kill him. [ It's still there, in his desk, the two halves of the amulet that their mother gave them before she died. ] Man, I spent so damn long grieving my asshole brother. Thinking I should have done more to get him back. Then I find out that shit, looks like he had a kid at some point and for some crazy reason left him with a cult that worshiped Dad as a god.
[ He leans back into the couch, resting a foot on top of a propped up knee. Yeah, Dante can't detach himself from this. Emotion wells up in his voice, his expression, that uncomfortable mix of anger and relief and hurt. ]
And then after all that shit in Fortuna, after entrusting his kid with his most precious possession, the asshole comes back. Doesn't just come back, he cuts off his own son's arm and goes straight back onto his bullshit again. Almost destroys an entire city again for power, as if he didn't learn from the last time he tried to pull that shit.
But hey, that really isn't the point is it? Nah, point is that after all that bullshit somehow I got my shitty brother back. Alive, whole, not some twisted brainwashed form of himself. He's back.
[ Then Dante deflates, sinking further into the couch. ]
He's back and part of me doesn't know what the hell I'm supposed to do with this. Part of me is terrified that it's all in my head. That now that I've got the only family I've got back, he's gonna disappear, pull some of the same shit he has pulled before, and I'm gonna have to kill him. Again.
[ You asked, Vergil. ]
vergil: zips through the wall and Away
The trip down memory lane isn't entirely welcome, but he supposes it's the least of his worries. Briefly, he remembers his time as Mundus' slave, only vaguely remembers the woman in Fortuna. Far more clear are his memories when he and Dante had fought together to defeat Arkham, and when he'd discovered a boy with a demonic arm and needed to take it back. Would Dante understand that, without taking Nero's arm, without doing what he'd done, Vergil would not be standing here in front of him? He isn't sure. Still — how does he explain what he's done? Can he? Probably not in a way that matters.
So he won't. Not unless Dante asks. There is no justification, no explanation that will serve. Urizen's decisions were not my own. It's as flimsy an excuse as it sounds; Urizen is as much a part of him as V had been; by proxy, whatever choices had been made were his.
I'm gonna have to kill him. Again. ]
No. You won't.
[ He still refuses to look at Dante as he responds. There's a deep breath, his fingers digging into his arm almost to the point of pain. He asked for this. He will accept the consequences. ]
I will not make excuses for myself, Dante. I'm aware of the consequences of my actions. [ He pushes away from the desk, hands curling into fists before he rests one on the hilt of the Yamato. ] I'm also not so foolish as to repeat the same mistakes. If that's what you want, I'll take my leave. As you said, you've done just fine in my absence.
[ Just say the word, Dante. He will tear open a portal here and now. ]
dante: oh no you don't
Maybe he should have asked, actually sat down and listened to his brothers reasons for what he did. But it wouldn't have changed much in the end. Dante still would have tried to stop him at Temen-ni-gru, still would have been prepared to kill Urizen and stop V from returning. But maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to understand a bit better. Maybe. ]
Won't I?
[ He wants to believe him, desperately, he'd be more than happy to cling to those words never think about any of this shit ever again. But there is a tiny seed of doubt in the back of his head, scratching away at the corners of his mind. Keeping him awake, keeping him on edge, urging him to check just this once (it's never just this once) that Vergil is still there.
Dante lifts his chin, focusing his gaze properly on Vergil instead of the space just next to him, fingers absently curling into fists. ]
I wouldn't have accepted any excuses anyway. [ Not for Temen-ni-gru, not for all the shit with Urizen. Mundus, that is a different story. ] And no, I don't want you to leave. You think after all these years I actually want you to disappear out of my life again? Shit Vergil, I wouldn't have gone down there with you if I wanted you gone.
[ He stands, suddenly, crossing the space with a few quick strides until he's standing beside Vergil. ]
I probably would have been doing better if you were around, idiot.
vergil: YOU CAN'T STOP ME
[ It's all the confirmation Dante is going to get. There's tight-lipped, and there's Vergil; there is no good way for him to explain that he remembers, now, why he sought power in the first place. That being V, even for that small amount of time, reminded him of what he'd lost. Why he'd endeavored for so long to become strong.
A small voice in the back of his mind reminds him, then, that he still needs to find a way to properly thank Nero for it.
Still, he won't deny that a part of him is surprised that Dante does not wish him gone. They've been at odds for so long, for more of their lives than they'd ever spent together — how easy it would be to fall back into old habits, maintain that distance. Finally, he turns to look at his brother, watching as he comes to stand beside him with an eyebrow raised. ]
And here I'd thought you'd joined me to "keep an eye" on me. [ His grip loosens on the Yamato's hilt, and this time when his arms cross over his chest, it's a far more relaxed stance. ] I'll admit, it was.. an interesting change, to have someone fighting at my side.
[ Nostalgic, even, though he won't say that. He's also never going to admit that the differences between then and his first trip to Hell had been nearly overwhelming; from time to time, he finds himself wondering what would have happened if he'd been able to swallow his pride and accept Dante's help.
It's too late to dwell on such things, but — he's here now. So instead he'll just take a deep breath, let himself relax just a hair. ]
Well. We're here now. [ And because they can't have nice things: ] As long as you remember to get rid of old pizzas, I see no reason why that should change.
dante: I CAN AND I WILL
A grin starts to form on Dante's lips, tension draining from his shoulders as a hand rests on his hip. ]
I told the kid I would. [ He didn't want Nero to lose his old man like they lost theirs. ] Yeah, we work pretty damn well together.
[ The memory makes him think of Temen-ni-gru, of the day Vergil fell; since their return Dante sometimes wonders how things would have changed if he had jumped in after him that day. He wouldn't have met Trish, there probably wouldn't have been a reason for Mundus to create her, and that thought leaves something uncomfortable sitting in the middle of his chest.
It doesn't matter now, what's done is done. ]
Fine, fine. [ Dante shakes his head, shoulders slumping in an overdramatic shrug. ] I'll try not to leave molding pizza in the fridge anymore. But you have to promise to try talking to your damn son sometime, you know how awkward it gets when he comes around?
vergil: >:T
I suppose we do. Though you're kidding yourself if you still think you're up one.
[ Because what is a family without a little bit of brotherly rivalry? Surely it won't spiral into anythin— wait. Vergil chuckles to himself, a quiet sound. It's...a strange feeling, to have this. His brother at his side, neither of them at the other's throat. To feel welcome, even.
At least, until Dante mentions Nero. A frown crosses Vergil's face, his eyes narrowing as he looks at him. ]
Nero? [ And isn't that just odd, thinking of Nero as his son. ] What would we have to talk about?
[ Of course he notices how awkward it gets. He's one of the uncomfortable parties. How is the supposed to approach the boy, though, when they had already met through V? He has no idea the protocol, what should happen — is he supposed to reintroduce himself? ]
He knows where I am; if he wishes to speak to me, he need only speak up.