Work Text:
You’d known Vergil for a great many years—since childhood, in fact. Throughout the years, he had always isolated himself in some way or another, and it was something you had come to accept as a given about him. You didn’t mind it, though. You’d always had your own ways of breaking down these barriers, and at the very least, Vergil never seemed to mind your presence.
Then Vergil disappeared.
It had been nineteen long years of misery and suffering for you. You’d given up the search after the first six years (at Dante’s insistence, though you couldn’t quite trust him when he wouldn’t meet your gaze when he told you to let it go), so naturally, when you first saw Vergil again, you were overjoyed. It seemed as though he felt the same way about you—but he had changed.
You hadn’t known what to make of him. This new form of isolation, alternating between jobs with his brother and stoic contemplation (okay, brooding was a more accurate word), was something you felt should be familiar to you, but it seemed that these days, Vergil kept you at arm’s length. You couldn’t deny being hurt; Vergil had been the closest person to your heart for as long as you could remember.
One day, you could bear it no longer and approached him. He seemed surprised by your story, saying he saw you no differently than before; but before you could press him on it, he was gone. You were left standing alone in the howling wind outside Devil May Cry, more than a little confused and feeling like a part of you had slipped away.
The rain began to pour down.