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Weary feet moped their way through thick mud, and you snorted ignoring the grime caking to your boots and swiping away a wet lock of hair stuck to your face. The sludge and muck limited your movements to erratic spasms of your leg, eventually causing you to stomp with frustration. Severe, raw rain slapped down onto your two figures shrouded within the mistiness of the occurring thunderstorm. Sight of the area had been limited to foggy distant city-lines and grotesque veins of lightning striking frequently giving a ray of shine for a split second. The sounds enclosed the far-away sounds of the city, the gushing of rain, periodic peals of thunder, and your soggy boots squishing in the sloppy, soaked earth. The smell of earth worms, dead animals – possibly a dead body – gunpowder, and petrichor conquered the space, much to you and your companion’s heavy chagrin. You felt like Hell.
You stopped walking, lifting your head to the sky to scowl at the vast storm with heavy-lidded eyes, and you took notice the man next to you had stopped as well. It was February and storming, yet you supposed a storm was better than any snowstorm like the weather forecaster had predicted. Nevertheless, the rain was ice-bone cold, causing you huddle into yourself more, teeth chattering. It wasn’t like you weren’t dressed properly; it was honestly just that cold.
You were beginning to be fed up with the ridiculous hunting. Itself and past experiences had practically been a death sentence, merely idiotic and savage to an extent. You desired nothing more than to make it back home, into your bathtub and rolling yourself into your thick comforter. Alas, reports of ungodly murders had begun surfacing, throats ripped out and body parts mauled off. It wasn’t human, so when Devil May Cry was called Dante partnered with Lady and Trish to scope out areas in the city, while you obviously accompanied the only person you went out into the field with anymore into the forest on the outskirts of the city. That had been three days beforehand.
You snuck a peek at the man next to you, the rich darkness of his coat almost hard to see, but the ivory tone of his skin easy to spot. Vergil paid no mind to the rain, nor the temperature, once stating it had no effect on him. His hair had fallen from its usual slicked back flair and swept across his face. The only times you had ever seen him without his signature style was when he slept or seconds after he showered. Looking at him like that made you realize how alike he and Dante looked, not that you ever mentioned it, and half the reason you presumed he pushed it back was to differentiate himself from his younger twin. You trailed your gaze to the barely perceivable shadows underneath his eyes, wanting nothing more than to wipe them away.
Vergil had not slept in three days.
Maybe it was nothing, but you knew better. You knew of his past; serving under Mundus in a body forced to be his own, stuck inside as a shell of his former self. He didn’t eat, sleep, speak, anything, but he remained fully conscious that entire time coerced into serving that bastard for an entirety of ten years almost. When Trish told you of Dante delivering the final blow to his lost twin believing he had lost him forever, you wondered how he did it. Part of you believed it was sheer willpower; Vergil refused to go down in any fight, he was too proud to be seen as weak and helpless. He hated nothing more than feeling weak and was ready throw everything away just to feel powerful, something you once thought was ridiculous. He hated his humanity.
However when you learned of the twins’ past and the horrifying death of their mother Eva, you could see where he had been coming from. Eva was someone Vergil loved unconditionally, and once she had been murdered Vergil blamed himself for not being able to save her leading to his quest for power trying to fill the void inside of him. It would never excuse everything he had done in that quest, but Vergil was only doing what he thought would help to fill emptiness he carried.
When he and Dante had returned from Hell, the elder twin took a long while to adjust to the world, his sociability extremely lacking and the knowledge of technology as well. Even as amusing as it was watching him struggle with a cell phone, you understood it was him coming to terms with his own humanity fitting into his own skin once again. Vergil began to settle into a routine of ordinary things – as ordinary as he could be – and when you wormed your way into his everyday life it seemed easier for him, given the man barely knew how a relationship worked. You took notice of Vergil’s sleeping habits rather quickly; he slept more than you thought he would, yet he was on a schedule it seemed. He never slept past eight in the morning and was always in bed by midnight, making sure he got a full eight hours. As robotic as it was, the half-demon grew exceptionally used to it even when you came along, always crowding you into bed when he was ready.
Looking at him you knew it was taking a heavy toll on Vergil even if he would never voice his complaints.
You rose your gaze back to the sky and exhaled, clenching your jaw and pursing wet lips in an expression mocking a pout. Your hand skimmed over the handgun at your side, straining. Hunger and fatigue was beginning to seep well into your bones, the backpack you carried suddenly weighing ten times more than it was. The rain tapping against the grass and the select year-round leaves almost lulled you had it not been for the voice of your companion.
Vergil called your name.
You snapped your head back to an eye-level position and dropped your hands to sag to the side of your thighs. You turned to look at him, eyes softening as you gazed at him.
He was studying you, had been for minutes unbeknownst to you. His eyes looked heavy and the want to reach out and caress his cheek would’ve nearly overwhelmed you had he not spoke again. “You’re tired.”
It wasn’t a question, a statement. You sniffed allowing him to hear the extent of the snot build-up in your nose watching his eyes narrow at the action. Great, he was about to mother hen you as well. “It’s not so bad… we can keep going. I know you hate wasting time –”
“There is a cave nearby, we’ll rest there,” Vergil interrupted not wanting to hear your excuses. He looked away towards the direction you assumed the spot he was speaking about in finality, eyelashes fluttering from fallen raindrops. He took a step forward in that direction casting a small glance to your shivering form, wordlessly telling you that it wasn’t up for debate. You sighed wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth and followed after him.
The trek there hadn’t been easy on your part; the rocks were slippery and haphazardly aligned. You had slipped quite a few times with Vergil’s reflexes showcasing when he spun around catching you by one or both elbows each time. However at the fourth time when your ankle spun and a small noise of discomfort slipped through your lips, Vergil evidently had enough. He moved deliberately; his arm curled itself around your back pulling you closer allowing you to rest your head against his chest. Humming from his warmth, you looked up towards his face blinking through the rain. His face wasn’t visible though you could feel his penetrating eyes on your face. An unspoken question between you two. It was a moment later until he lowered himself slightly at the knees slipping his other arm beneath the pit of your knees before finally lifting you up and settling you within his arms.
Sighing you kept your cheek against his chest, your ear closer to him listening to the steady thrum of his heart. “Thank you,” you whispered knowing you more than likely wouldn’t receive a response. Vergil only tucked you closer and continued forward towards the cave, while you fought to keep your eyes open against the surge of sleep you felt immediately.
Your current position was one you couldn’t help but feel as a hinderance to him. The past three days often ended with you being too tired to continue and with your head resting on some part of Vergil’s body as you slept, while he waited awake usually reading. Not once had he closed his eyes and rested. Something you had voiced your concern about the previous day, but he only dismissed it telling you he didn’t need to sleep and needed to stay alert in case you two were ambushed by demons. You knew better than that. Sure he was a half-demon and didn’t function like a normal human, for one he didn’t need to eat so sleeping must of have been the exact same. However since adapting back into the world of humans, you knew he had grown used to the some of the habits he picked up, particularly sleeping. Vergil wouldn’t admit it, but he just as tired as you were, if not more.
You only wished you could tend to him as he was to you.
It was a losing battle when you caught your eyes drooping and head tipping back with your companion’s new attempts to keep your neck from bending backwards. You only realized you had dozed off when you felt yourself being lowered down, quickly awaking from the lack of his body heat. You could still hear the rain with the occasional roll of thunder, but the feeling of droplets was absent; he had taken both of you to the cave. Opening your eyes fully it was nothing but darkness and, shrugging the backpack off, you were able to tell you were resting against a wall, somehow colder than you felt in the rain. Vergil had backed away after setting you down, his footsteps audible enough to tell you he was only feet away from you.
Before you were able to question what exactly he was doing, the fire lit up giving you a view of the cavern walls and his form. His hair remained tickling across his face covering his eyes for brief moment as he worked over the makeshift fire. His rosy lips were pulled into his usual frown and you briefly wondered if they felt as cold as they looked. His soaked coat laid draped over his arm, the same holding the Yamato and poetry book in his grasp, giving a front row view of his toned arms. You sat up straighter to move closer to the heat nearly sighing aloud feeling the warmth come into contact with your cheeks and through your soggy clothing.
The flames shadows flickered across the walls and Vergil’s face as he stood back up moving to your side where the backpack rested. He seemed to hesitate for a moment until ultimately deciding to set the Yamato against the wall and his coat drying out next to it, before squatting back down to rummage through your backpack, still holding onto his book. Intrigued, you lolled your head against your shoulder to watch him more closely wondering what he could’ve possibly been looking for. Your eyes widened only a moment after when he successfully pulled a piece of cloth out with a nearly unnoticeable tilt of his lips.
You recognized the scarf anywhere, the opulent shade of midnight blue fabric had been a gift from him, one that you cherished more than he knew. You practically kept it with you at all times; to you a symbol of his affection for you and what you were to him. When Vergil’s eyes slowly slid to yours with a taunting glint, you bit your cheek over the mortification of him knowing you carried the scarf in all places, and the fact that he was closing the proximity between you two.
The fire’s light dancing across his sharp cheekbones only made him more handsome and you blinked rapidly as he rose his arms with the scarf unbundled and looped it around your neck. He made quick work of wrapping it around you, finishing and grabbing the tail-end of it pulling you centimeters away from his face. His stare was too much in that moment and your eyes fluttered shut and lips parted hoping he was going to give you the kiss you wanted. Your hands balled into fists, nails digging into your palms, as his lips, so cold, yet so soft, ghosted over your own with a brief peck. It made you all but whine, notably with the velvety chuckle he gave as he pulled away. What a tease.
“You need rest,” he answered, letting you go and you watched as he rose back up to move to your other side and sit against the wall, your shoulder touching his upper arm. You fought back to tell him he needed rest as well, instead pulling the scarf over your nose inhaling the intoxicating scent of it. While it did smell of the usual laundry detergent you used, the lingering aroma in the underlays was so distinctly Vergil you only wanted to bury yourself in the smell at that moment. Briefly you wondered if he was able to pick up his scent on it.
It was a moment before he relaxed letting his shoulders dip in an unexpressed invitation for you to lie your head on the one closest to you if need be. Drowsily, you watched as he opened his beloved book and stretched the leg next to you out with his boot nearly touching to the fire, the other propped up, and the pages of the book rustling in an echo in the cave. You were amazed at how well the book looked given had old it was, no yellowed pages, rips, or a crinkled spine, but you should’ve known someone as Vergil took great care of things he cherished and that belonged to him.
In your haze, your head had sluggishly dropped onto his shoulder, cheek squished against his cozy skin. The muscles in his arm slightly tensed and you thought it might’ve been a reaction to your soaked hair coming in contact with him, but you ultimately forced the thought away when he relaxed once more and opened the book further for you to skim over if you wanted. You did, your heavy eyes lingering on a particular one on the page furthest away from you. It was brief, but the words wiggled their way into your brain.
“O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night,
In the storm,
Has found thy bed
Of crimson joy;
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.”
You frowned; you had no idea what that meant. Though William Blake was an author you never had interested yourself in, you nearly had half a mind to ask Vergil what the poem meant, but the serenity you felt at that moment was far too strong. The cracking of the fire, the steady sound of water dripping somewhere in the cave, the storm just feet away from you, the ever-so soft sound of Vergil breathing, and the pages of his book turning –
You fell asleep.
However, you knew you didn’t sleep long when you awoke sometime later with the storm remaining relatively steady and the fire still burning like it had been when first lit. You took a breath, licking dry lips, as you sat up feeling the slight crick in your neck from lying against your ‘pillow’. Firstly, you stretched, your knees popping and toes curling as you rose your arms above your head. Cracking your neck, you moved on to the second task: Vergil. When you turned back to look to see why he hadn’t fussed over you not sleeping, you stopped, making a soft noise as the words died in your throat.
Vergil was asleep.
The William Blake poetry book in his lap still opened, Vergil remained slumped, his chin tucking into his chest as he took deep steady breaths. It wasn’t often you got to see a sleeping Vergil, usually waking before you and if you had awoken in the middle of the night normally it would stir him. He looked so peaceful; gone was his usual furrowed brow and pouted lips set into a frown. You didn’t have the heart to wake him, you knew he had been more exhausted than he let on. It moved you, however, he was so set on making you stay safe and healthy he refused to put his needs first, catering to you in whatever way you needed him for. Part of you was upset over it; the man would never let you dote on him no matter how much you tried. Frustration swelled within your chest.
You only wanted to make him feel the same adoration you felt when he fretted over you.
Making up your mind you sighed, quietly picking up the book and setting it in your backpack ahead of tucking your legs underneath your body so you rested on your knees. You began to hesitate after that, fiddling with your fingers as you stared at him. What was the worst thing he could do? Say no? Not like that mattered anyway, you could always soothe him into the idea if he objected…
Covertly, you hoped he remained in a deep sleep and wouldn’t even feel you moving him.
With a sense of determination, you reached forward grasping onto Vergil’s shoulders, leisurely pulling him towards you only getting a few inches in when he – of course – awoke. His eyes immediately darted to your form first, before casting them to the Yamato and about the area. He was searching for any threat that would’ve triggered you to awake him. Seemingly satisfied he found nothing, his silvery eyes returned back to you with a small lift of his brow.
“What is it?” he questioned, curious to what could’ve caused you to wake him so abruptly.
You swallowed, batting your eyelashes suddenly humiliated you had been caught red-handed, “Um… I, uh, just thought you looked uncomfortable…”
Vergil’s brows furrowed once more, darting his eyes across your face and body until he glanced at your hands atop his shoulders, “…Why are you awake?”
Sighing you pulled him slightly forward closer to you, making him lean over you. You averted your gaze from his face, finding the zipper of his vest all-to interesting, “I don’t know, I just woke up and I saw you had fell asleep and felt bad because you looked so tired, and I know you said you’re not tired, but it’s been three days since we left and you haven’t slept in three days, so you really are tired and I – “
Your mumbling was shut off when Vergil’s hand came up to squeeze your cheeks together making your lips pucker. Flustered, you moved your gaze back to his face, only to nearly shy away from his intense stare and how soft he looked. He leaned closer, “What is it?” he asked once more and much quieter, his voice nearly causing you to melt into a puddle.
His hand left your face to reach for the end of your scarf, and you squarely looked him in his eyes with a sad smile, “You’re tired.”
He didn’t answer, fingertips rubbing against your scarf, so you continued, “So, just let me do this for once, it’s all I want right now.”
He hummed, “’All you want’?”
You didn’t answer him that time, tilting closer closing your eyes and parting your lips to place a kiss on his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes continue to stay open watching your every move as his hand tugged you closer with the scarf. You knew what he probably thought you had awoken him for; the two of you had not been amorous in that way in a long while. It wasn’t as if neither of you wanted to, the time and your schedules clogged any tender time between each other. You were half-tempted to pull him on top of you and succumb to each other’s desire.
Not wanting to get lost in a passionate Vergil and lose focus at the task at hand, you slipped away, almost laughing when he subtly chased you, and gripped his shoulders more firmly. Vergil’s eyes always reminded you of cat, so calculating and concentrated, and you felt minuscule underneath his study at that moment but only settled back against the wall and continued to pull him downwards. Thankfully he followed your movements, still watching you closely as he let himself fall forward, slightly turning his body as he realized what exactly it was you wanted.
When Vergil’s head came into contact with your lap, the giddiness you felt was almost too hard to contain. You rested a hand beneath his head, the other lying next to you limp, letting a small smile grace your lips as you looked down at him. The onslaught of his lidded eyes just about made the words die your throat, “You need rest.”
The half-demon’s lips twitched at your parroted response, resting a hand upon his chest, “You wanted me to rest on your lap?”
You reddened, pulling the scarf up over your nose once more, “When you say it like that it’s embarrassing! Just – sleep, I can keep watch for once,” your words were muffled yet you knew his hearing easily picked it up.
“Mmm,” was what he returned, complying to your words and closing his eyes. Your finger curled into the scarf pulling it back down under your chin, a smile in the direction of his face prior to turning to look at the opening of the cave and watching the almost invisible rain. Select words sat heavily on your tongue, never been uttered to him once in your relationship. It felt taboo somehow. Often, you wondered how you were able to manage the intimacy you shared with Vergil.
Your smile warped into a frown as your thoughts deceived you. Sometimes you thought of Nero; Nero was Vergil’s son, yet his mother unknown. You thought of her more than you would like to admit. You wondered who she was, what kind of woman she was, and what exactly she had been to Vergil. Possibly a lost lover? Just a partner for one night of passion? What did she do when she had found out she was pregnant? What happened to her after Nero’s birth? Truthfully, you assumed the worst had happened and you could only feel sorry for the poor woman. Your heart mourned for Nero never being able to meet the woman who bore him.
Part of you had been jealous, but quickly realizing how absurd it was to be jealous of someone you had never met and when you had Vergil in the same way and more in your life. He never spoke of it; did he even remember it? You had learned from Dante Vergil wasn’t even aware he had a son, the past seemingly lost to him. Considering what had happened to him, perhaps parts of his memory left him, swimming away in a vortex of obscurity. You counted yourself lucky you were able make your own memories with the man, something your heart locked away and kept precious more than he would know.
You turned back to look at your devil, lovingly gazing down at his peaceful expression. Vergil had fallen back to sleep and you used the empty hand not holding his head to push back the strands of hair into their usual up do position. After that, you traced your fingers down his cheek to rest at his lips entranced by the movements. Vergil’s lips pushed out a sigh in his sleep.
The words were heavy on your tongue again. Maybe hours later you would speak them into the air as he slept.
You sighed longingly, pulling the scarf to unravel around your neck, balling it up and placing it between your head and the rocky wall for cushion. The thunderstorm resumed outside and the fire seemed to grow brighter keeping you both in the arms of warmth. You didn’t know how long he would rest for, but you didn’t mind, if he rested for days on your lap, it’d make you happy. You would treasure it forever.
Truly, you didn’t mind if you two could stay that way for eternity.