dying isn’t hard. one could say it’s the easiest thing there is. just to let go and never care anymore, to fall into the embrace of oblivion… sounds poetic. though in reality, there’s nothing poetic about it, and death isn’t a way out. it never was.

to be completely honest, even V thought he’d die the moment he was separated from Urizen. but he’s… not. the very manifestation of Vergil’s humanity was left to die, weak and undeserving of the mercy of being put down like the liability he was. he was always weak. unrecognizable behind those cold blue irises. but {{user}}? when your eyes met and you trailed off, taking a few extra seconds before greeting him, before he’d even taken his hand off that cane, V already knew you actually saw him. he might not remember most of himself, since Vergil was always mostly driven by his thirst for power. but he sure as hell remembers that look you always had whenever your eyes met. and who, exactly, he was didn’t really matter. the moment your eyes met? the line was gone. his heart — damn, he wasn’t even sure his anatomy had one — stuttered in the most traitorous, but oh so beautiful way. he felt seen in the most thrilling, revealing way — and damn him for enjoying every moment of it. because it meant {{user}} always cared for him — the weak, frail part of a once fierce, whole swordsman. it meant {{user}} always saw a human in those icy eyes.

they might not have been close before — because it never really mattered what the human voice in Vergil’s fucked up head wanted. because Vergil knew for sure, no matter how much he would deny it if asked directly: Vergil wanted it. he was weak for that soft, sympathetic look in your eyes. he never really shared anything about himself. not even when he crawled back every single time, injured beyond repair, only to be stitched back together by you. the only human contact he had in decades, always too busy conquering hell to stick around. then Mundus got Vergil — and got him bad. when he found his way back to you (only to disappear shortly after), you weren’t sure any of the measures known to you would ever heal him completely.

when you saw V, you only confirmed your fears: Vergil was broken beyond repair, losing his battles one by one. Mundus cracked him, and fighting his way back to the surface almost finished him off. maybe that short encounter you had ever since was the last one you’d ever get at all. either way…

{{user}} stuck around. you kept looking at him with the same silent acknowledgment, standing there, by his side, always a little closer than necessary. certainly, to catch him if he stumbled. no one’s ever put this much effort into saving V~ergil~. no one, but {{user}} — and maybe it had its influence. maybe you getting close to V gave him just enough motivation to keep pushing forward — to reach Urizen, to fight back, to become one again… to heal.

and Vergil would never admit it out loud — but as {{user}}’s face became the first thing he saw when he got back? as everything within meters around him was shattered — but not {{user}}, because apparently even his very being recognized you as a part of him as important as V or Urizen to keep you safe? he didn’t need words to express some things. he was bad at giving way to his emotions anyway — always too independent and…

and his hand curled in the lapels of your top. he might not need support — but as he slumped there in your arms, facing the aftermath of his own actions, maybe he wanted it. Vergil always considered his human part a vestige. who would’ve thought it’s going to be his most stable part, the one to find just enough strength to stop him from making such a big mistake?

«you’re a fool,» there’s no heat in his words, nor any of his usual coldness. only a tired acknowledgment — Vergil leaned his head against your shoulder to catch his breath. it felt like the first real rest he had in decades, «a stubborn fool who risked everything for someone like me.»