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spirit-of-the-void · 5 years

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Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 39

Author’s notes: This chapter took me a fucking week to write and im BEAT. No cutting chapters in half, we die like men.

Chapter 39

(Vergil POV)

Who the hell is that?

Vergil stared in blank confusion at the newcomer, not recognizing him in the slightest. Was this supposed to be another god, one who existed with the Outsider among the endless darkness of the Void? He...didn’t seem like it. This man was rugged in appearance, his eyes a clear brown and hair dark with hints of gray. Older in age, grizzled with an unshaven face and an air of tired annoyance as he stared at the black-eyed God. Speaking of that, this newcomer had normal eyes, and no appearance of ethereal energy to suggest he was anything other than human--nothing seemed amiss minus the clear mark of the Deity on his hand, glowing lightly so close to his presence. But how had he gotten here when the God clearly seemed surprised, and why did the Outsider look like he had been caught red-handed doing something he wasn’t supposed to be?

What is going on?

Among the chaos swirling in his head, mingling with the sound of V protesting his choices and voicing that guilt and agony eating them alive...this new surprise definitely wasn’t appreciated, or needed. An interruption had arrived and prolonged his punishment, which was something Vergil found a twinge of exhausted annoyance in. God, he was so tired. Not himself, not sure who “Vergil” was anymore. Guilt was such a new thing, one he spent so long avoiding and pretending wasn’t there. It now bloomed inside him like vines gripping every organ, suffocating each breath and making his heart thud painfully. He had done wrong by you, by everyone in his life. Years and years of pride and foolishness had blinded him into thinking one way, plunging into fear and cowardice like they somehow protected him.

They never did, and he was always found wanting.

The Outsider had opened up those wounds with serrated blades, flayed him alive and leaving him to bleed upon the ground. Vergil would have gladly gave every drop of that blood to you, like it would have somehow repaired the damage he did all those years ago. It never would, of course. How would he ever be able to look Nero in the eyes after this, and see every way he had wronged the boy? Causing the destruction of his mother, abandoning them in Fortuna, ripping off his arm for some selfish idea of power...Every encounter he had with the white-haired demon hunter had been rife with agony, and Vergil knew now that Nero’s hatred of him was far more deserved than previously anticipated.

He would live with that hatred, that agony. Now he only wished this newcomer would let him get to it.

Vergil, please--

He ignored V, staring between the Outsider and the unfamiliar man as the God visibly flinched. His black eyes widened, jaw tightened in a visible display of discomfort that shocked the son of Sparda. Who was this grizzled man, one who clearly had a hold over the black-eyed bastard? The stranger in question crossed his arms, narrowing his brown eyes at them both and seeming heavily displeased all things considered. This was all growing very confusing, Vergil half expecting another God or something to show themselves and stop the Outsider, not someone so unassuming and normal. Could the God sweat? He sure seemed like he was on the verge of it, almost sulky as he finally released his grip on Vergil and letting him collapse in an unceremonious heap on the floor.

The impact hurt, but Vergil couldn’t care less. He was resting on his knees again, body aching and lungs feeling like they had been doused in ice water. Why wouldn’t they just get on with his torture, so he didn’t have to listen to V yelling at him anymore? This is growing so tiring. The God paid him no mind, turning away to look at the dark-haired man and clasping his hands behind his back. Was that a nervous tick, the way his fingers tapped lightly in sets of three on his own skin? Seemed like it.

“What are you doing here?” The Outsider replied flatly, seeming definitely sulky as he kept that little tick going beyond the stranger’s view, “I did not summon you forth, and you are supposed to be aiding Emily with the young ones, are you not?”

The strange man rolled his eyes at the Outsider’s irritated tone, not seeming impressed or intimidated in the slightest bit. He merely rose a thick brow, muscles bunching and relaxing under his black jacket in a show of his athletic build. This man had seen combat, and it showed down to the little pink, faded scars on his face to the callouses on his fingertips.

“Am I not allowed to come and visit?” He replied with a snort, lifting the hand with the Outsider’s mark and wiggling his fingers meaningfully, “You are the one who gave me that option, bastard. Not any other black-eyed God’s called ‘the Outsider’ around here, are there?”

What in the world is going on?

The God in question blinked at his response, seeming to blanch even paler despite his already-light complexion. Those fingers twitched, digging into his palm hard enough that any normal person would bleed. Had he really forgotten granting one of his followers an ability? Why was this person throwing him so off balance? To allow someone to travel freely to the Void on will must mean he was important to the man, that was to be certain.

Did he know you? Did he know what had transpired here?

The Outsider let out a low sigh, seeming thoroughly angry with himself as he clipped in response, “This doesn’t involve you, Corvo. Go home to Emily and your grandchildren.”

Corvo? Who the hell is this man?

And Emily as well, there was so much Vergil didn’t understand.

“Its night time in Dunwall, Emily and Wyman have things under control without me,” The gruff man--now dubbed Corvo--clicked his tongue in aggravation, his eyes lingering on Vergil for a moment before slipping back to the God, “I had my suspicions that you were doing shit you weren’t supposed to, but I didn’t realize just how far you went through with them. A brat, as always.”

He called this God of the Void a brat? If Vergil wasn’t so broken already, he might have been shocked or amused. All that could flicker forth was confusion and astonishment, especially when the Outsider looked visibly put off by the comment. His poised stance faltered for a brief second, like the words had jolted up his spine before he settled back and rolled his head on his shoulders. Vergil was growing agitated with this, especially when he seemed like a partial focus for attention. Every second spent here was just prolonging the inevitable,was it not?

Regardless, the Outsider’s annoyance seemed to grow in spades, his bad mood from seeing your previous death only heightened. Like petting a cat the wrong way, he bristled and snapped back, “I see you are still prone to putting your nose where it doesn’t belong--” He raised his fingers, seeming intent on banishing Corvo away as he hissed, “--It matters not. You have no place in my business.”

Corvo rose a brow, quickly speaking up before the God could remove him, “Send me back and you’ll never hear from me again, Outsider.”

His tone was firm, unyielding and clearly telling the truth with that threat. It made the God freeze in place, wide eyes meeting Corvo’s with a shocking amount of hesitation.

Corvo’s presence must have been important to him, very important. Because he backed down a moment later, lowering his hand and glowering at the grizzled man with a hint of resentment and exasperation. Vergil was aghast--why was Corvo interfering, when the Outsider definitely had viable reasons for doing all of this? It made no sense, this conflict didn’t involve him and Vergil was reluctant to admit it. But...he would. He knew his place, wanted to make up for all the wrongs he caused.

But...he also didn’t.

He didn’t want to stare at you, watching as you held V’s hand and kissed his cheek. Didn’t want to feel his love for you ache and ache while you gave away the affection once belonging to him, the very love he had thrown away. His human half was the only thing deserving of it, and that knowledge burned and clawed away at the remaining traces of dignity he had. God, how was he supposed to live with this feeling? These memories of you, of loving and wanting you under all those layers of pride? All he had wanted was to never be hurt again, and in turn had caused his own undoing. Selfish, why was he so selfish? This despair, this unhappiness, this fear...it was everything he deserved and more. Yet…

You fear like any other person, V whispered in reply to his thoughts, pressing lightly on the edges of his consciousness, Neither of us were deserving of her, yet we took anyway. I just...was a lot more honest with my emotions.

That was precisely why V deserved you more, at least in Vergil’s eyes.

“Why must you interfere right when I so very wish you wouldn’t?” The Outsider’s hiss, laced with desperation drew Vergil out of his thoughts, looking up to see the God stalk up to Corvo with an arrogance in his step, “You test me, Corvo. After all I did to aid you in avenging your Empress, in saving your daughter Emily and helping her save you in turn…!”

There was clearly a lot of missing information here that Vergil was just now learning. This man seemed to have a story behind him, one the son of Sparda would not have minded hearing if the circumstances weren’t so dire.

Corvo rose that brow again, tone shockingly calm as he replied, “Which is exactly why I’m here, to help you in return,” He looked at Vergil again, several layers of understanding and recognition in those brown, tired eyes. This man clearly knew the son of Sparda, despite him having no knowledge in comparison. Regardless, Corvo let out a light sigh as he continued, “I had suspected you were scheming the first time around, when she almost lost herself in Fortuna. Is this really what Y/N wants, for you to punish Vergil for something she won’t even remember with relentless torture?”

He knows me by name. You as well.

And when you broke after Fortuna.

How did he know about that?

Wasn’t that memory from several years ago? Maybe time passed differently in the Void, especially for those who only visited from time to time in comparison to staying there. Corvo had an intimate understanding of the situation, of what the Outsider had planned and what Vergil had done. Why was he interfering if he knew all that had transpired? What did he hope to gain, and how did this help anyone?

The Outsider tensed at Corvo’s declaration, voice whipping out sharply as he spat, “He almost took my child from me…! You of all people should know not to question my actions considering what was done to Emily--or have you forgotten how she was kidnapped twice, or how she was forced to fight Delilah to return her throne…?!”

Corvo still remained calm, staring at the Outsider’s face with his expression not changing. This man seemed...wise, showing his years in his poise and control whilst the Outsider seemed volatile in comparison. How was the God this lacking in control after so many years of being in existence? It didn’t make sense, not this level of anger or hostility. It was almost like he wasn’t used to dealing with emotion at all, which was all too similar to…

Corvo let out a slow breath, taking a step forward and placing both hands on the Outsider’s cheeks. The action surprised Vergil, and the God too by the looks of it. He froze in place, back tense in Vergil’s view and hands clenched at his sides. That motion looked oddly...tender? Romantic? Just what was the relationship between these two? It wasn’t in Vergil’s place to question or wonder, but just what else did he have left to do while sitting there and trying not to interfere?

Just hush. And wait.

“You’re right,” Corvo said simply, staring intently at the Outsider’s face and projecting an air of absolute reason, “And as a father, let me be the first to give you advice--I know you are still learning, and I know it’s hard for you to grasp what you’re feeling after sitting in this shitty place for years and feeling nothing. But...in regards to your child, forcing your wants upon her is never something that can work out.”

The Outsider was breathing quickly, shown by his shoulder blades moving every so slightly with the movement. The son of Sparda couldn’t see his face, but his low voice betrayed his emotions just as easily.

There was a pause, the God seeming to collect himself ever so slightly before whispering in response, “He hurt her. She almost crumbled away to nothing and he would have lived on in ignorance,” His tone was bitter, laced with anger and hatred as he hissed, “He deserved every ounce of pain he went through and more.”

That made Corvo frown, working his lower jaw lightly while a thoughtful expression made a home in his rugged features.

“...But did she?” He finally replied, tone low and gruff as he tried to reason with the volatile God, “You put Y/N through the wringer too, sent her to all those places and made her hurt more and more. Like making Y/N suffer constantly would somehow make her invulnerable to pain.”

Vergil could remember from V’s eyes, seeing how tired you looked when speaking about your God. Each praise tinged with hesitation, every memory lingering on the edges of trauma that you seemingly couldn’t grasp on to. He had worried about you, especially considering your nightmares that you could never remember afterwards. Taking away the memories of the things that hurt you was only a temporary solution, and not a good one--how could you work through and process traumatic memories if those memories weren’t there at all? You couldn’t hope to work through a feeling that had no roots, it would continue to plague you with no rhyme or reason.

Not that Vergil could talk. He was notorious for ignoring his problems, his trauma and past memories like they were weaknesses weighing him down. How ironic that of the two of you, it would be the woman he hurt most of all that would come out the other end stronger, more stable? You had been so bright, even to V and bouncing back from the bad things that happened to you. Where V gave up, you were determined to save him and fought with every ounce of strength to get him up the tree. And then...all those months later, you looked like the sun again. No trace of your death on the steps of the orphanage, heart still beating despite how they broke it and taking your happiness as you saw fit.

Where he had stayed stuck in his ways, you moved on and flourished. Like a lotus, blooming and beautiful even in the mud that tried to stifle you.

The Outsider sucked in a breath at Corvo’s calm-spoken words, indignation crackling like a physical force in the air as he ground out, “I made her strong, my actions worked…!” He yanked himself back from Corvo, forcing the man to let his hands drop to his sides, “Every pain she will feel after this will be like a fleeting sting now that she has felt the worst she will ever had…!”

Maybe...he and the Outsider were more alike than he thought.

If I grow powerful, so powerful that none can stand before me...maybe I will never feel pain again.

Corvo’s expression finally slipped into a hint of anger, lingering more toward exasperation as he took a step closer to the God and snapped, “Listen to yourself! Do you realize how messed up that is, to think hurting your own child is the only way to make her strong?” He grabbed the God by the collar when he tried to retreat another foot back, bringing them closer to Vergil as Corvo continued on forcefully, “I may not have been the best parent, but I know damn well that when you’re teaching your child to swim, you help them until they can do it on their own--not toss them into the ocean and hope they don’t drown…!”

When someone begins to drown, they are likely to drag down the ones who try and save them.

Vergil felt his gaze lower to the ground, remembering the tower with Dante, remembering every time he fought his brother from childhood to adulthood. What had driven him to such violence other then the intense hatred he felt at seeing Dante so content? How dare his brother come out the other end whole and capable? All Vergil had done was drag his twin down to the same level of misery he felt, taking glee in it like some sadist. How petty it felt, how idiotic. While he was wasting time searching for power, feeling cold and brooding...Dante made a business, made a life, made friends. And that was what had stung the most, realizing that at the end of the day he would always lose to Dante, always be a step behind and lacking in something.

But this wasn’t about him anymore--it was about you.

The Outsider reared back from Corvo’s harsh words, shoulders jolting like the man had visibly slapped him. No such action had occurred, but the meaning had come across loud and clear. He said nothing, lips sealed shut with either regret or indignation, Vergil wasn’t sure which. Whatever it was made Corvo pause, anger starting to slowly drain as he stared at the black-eyed God with far more patience than he deserved, than any other human could probably muster. It was very clear the gruff male cared about the Outsider, made obvious by the how hard he was seeming to try. The Outsider must have looked unhappy, because he softened his approach in an instant.

“Think for a second what that would do to her,” He coaxed instead, letting go of the black-eyed bastard’s collar and instead placing a hand on his shoulder, right where it met his neck, “If you leave Vergil with his emotion for Y/N, their connection will never leave. It will confuse her, and complicate things more than they need to be and tear her in two. But--” Corvo glanced back at Vergil, narrowing his eyes a bit and saying in a very reasonable tone, “Sever the connection he has to her, take away the emotion he feels and leave the memories...things will right themselves automatically. She can be completely connected to V, and fate will deem someone new for Vergil in return.”

What…?

That wasn’t possible, was it? You were the one he was meant to be with, how could he possibly be allowed anyone else after screwing up the first person he was given? Not only that, but he didn’t deserve it, didn’t want to end up ruining someone else’s life like he had done to you. Those visions of the beach, the blood and the sand were so fresh, like daggers in his heart and mind that stabbed relentlessly. He had been the cause of all the suffering, even now sitting on the Void’s floating debris he was the source of the two fighting. I am poison, aren’t I? Vergil couldn’t imagine wanting anyone but you, and look what happened then. Anger, heartache, death, agony. He grit his teeth at the memory, sucking in a sharp breath and digging into his palm with nails so hard they bled. Pointless, selfish--he could not want something new, it wasn’t...wasn’t…

But...would removing V from him still leave you loving Vergil too? He couldn’t take the risk of that connection remaining, of leaving you in conflict between loving one or the other.

“Enough…!” He hissed, drawing the attention of both men and making them turn to look at him. Corvo seemed surprised to finally hear him talk, and the Outsider merely looked annoyed--typical, all things considered, “Isn’t there a way to remove V... and still sever the connection to me without dragging in someone new?”

I don’t deserve another.

I won’t hurt someone again.

Let me suffer like I deserve.

Corvo let out a light huff, seeming non-impressed by Vergil’s attempt at self-sacrifice, “No, it’s just how things work. Others have lost soulmates too, so it just finds you someone like that too,” He stepped around the incredulous Outsider, kneeling in front of the son of Sparda instead and staring into his icy blue eyes with stern, cold ones of his own. It made Vergil feel oddly...uncomfortable, like being scolded by his father when very young, “Mind you, some things will remain. You deserve to feel guilt, empathy--you deserve to keep those feelings of grief about what you did to her and Nero. But...she’s not yours to love any more, so why not let those feelings go so you can both move on?”

V was strangely quiet at this suggestion, not sure how to feel about it either. Because at the end of the day...he loved you so much, craved to touch you with hands that weren’t owned by another. If there was a chance that the poet could become your soulmate, full and unburdened by Vergil...was it so terrible to want such a thing, especially if his counterpart could end up free of his feelings for you? This solution worked out for everyone, didn’t it? V could have you again, Vergil could be free of his connection to you, everyone would be able to move on. But…

Vergil put a hand to his chest, clenching his fingers around the fabric of his jacket to make the ache go away. The son of Sparda...he loved you too, didn’t he? Just like V. His first love, the one who had been meant for him and him alone. The idea of no longer feeling this emotion, to no longer have someone like you to give him that hope and affection…bittersweet was the best word for it. Lonely. Someone new would be meant for him according to Corvo, but...would it ever be the same as this, so deep he felt like drowning? How could he hope to do right by anyone else, to fill that aching Void with anything but what you gave him?

Selfish. Poison.

Do right by her--you swore you would.

He closed his eyes, knowing the answer to all his emotion and swallowing it down like bile. This was no longer about what he wanted, what he felt. After being selfish and cruel his whole life...he needed to make a choice on someone else’s behalf, one that he knew would hurt. And that was the price he would pay for his mistakes.

Vergil--V whispered, sensing his thoughts and feeling hesitant despite how this proposal aided the poet--You...are you sure this is what you want?

I just want to do right by her.

Corvo was a human, plain and simple, but he read the fear and hesitation in Vergil’s expression easily enough. He rubbed at his beard, seeming a bit thoughtful as he said in a low voice, “After all that you did to hurt her...maybe it would be best to set her free--this works for everyone, yeah?”

He looked over his shoulder at the Outsider, met with an annoyed glower from the man in question as he barked, “He still gets punished in the end--he lives with the guilt and regret for the rest of his life, and he has to search out his new soulmate after losing his old one. Is that tragic enough for you, brat?”

The Outsider bristled at that nickname, like icy crystals were shuddering along his shoulders as he growled, “Your insults don’t amuse me, Corvo Attano. You test my patience,” But...he hesitated, seeming swayed by the steady look the other man wore and the argument he had in place. Those black pits shifted to Vergil, flickering with a thousand emotions he could barely read. Hatred, anger, resentment, impatience, reluctance, but...ending on acceptance. He looked away, crossing his arms over his chest like a sulky child and muttering softly, “...So be it. Y/N has been through enough...she deserves to be set free from you and live her life as promised.”

This is the end, isn’t it?

The end of my story with her.

And isn’t it bittersweet?

Corvo nodded, seeming satisfied with the Outsider’s answer and rising to his feet in a fluid motion. He grunted, rolling his shoulders before turning to face the black-eyed God and putting a hand to his cheek again. Tender despite how they had just butted heads, loving. The God’s face was finally visible this time, expression softening and those eyes closing as he breathed deep and even.

It was clear the Outsider had two people he considered very precious in his life, you and Corvo Attano. As twisted as it was, all he had wanted was to do right by you, to fix what Vergil had so carelessly destroyed. And in the end...it was clear he had no idea what he was doing, so similar to the son of Sparda in many ways. Maybe that was why Vergil’s actions made him so angry, because he saw himself in Vergil’s struggles with emotion?

Difference was, Vergil was allowed to walk in the sun--The Deity was not.

“Do right by them,” Corvo instructed the Outsider, stepping back and watching with calm eyes that leveled on Vergil again, “No more suffering today, I think everyone has had enough.”

Enough to last a lifetime.

And several more after that.

The God opened his eyes again, seeming tired and reluctant as he too turned to the man kneeling before them both. The anger he had carried for so long was starting to drain, making way for regrets and hesitations now that his own actions had come into question. Maintaining that level of hatred for so long became a weight on one’s shoulders, a heavy and tiring burden. Vergil knew all too well of that weight, having carried so many with him for years that his shoulders ached. Everything hurt now, life full of exhaustion and uncertainties that he didn’t know how to face. You, Nero, whatever his future would bring...it was a lot to take in, far more than he had ever faced head on.

There were a lot of sins to make up for, more than he could ever hope to fix. A life of servitude could never bring back the lives taken by the Qliphoth tree, nor could years of trying to make things up to Nero fix what he did to you both. But...He was so tired, so exhausted with being angry, holding in emotion and trying to be strong and steadfast. It helped nothing and no one...things had to change, and he was not given a choice.

That was acceptable. He didn’t deserve one.

Wait--V said softly in Vergil’s skull knowing the Outsider could easily hear. It made the God stop mere feet from him, frowning as he stared at Vergil’s numb expression--Please. Do not take my memories of what happened to my Sparrow in Fortuna. Let me keep them.

He wanted to keep the memories of your suffering? Why?

“You wish to hold onto that guilt and pain?” The Outsider sounded just as perplexed as Vergil, tilting his head to the side and staring with cold, dark eyes, “Why is that?”

V paused, his consciousness hovering on the edge of Vergil’s like a tangible force. As if he was gathering thoughts, ones that the son of Sparda could not see or read.

Because they will serve as a reminder, He finally whispered, tone soft and filled with mourning as they both remembered that day. Seeing you on the beach, bloodied and drenched in rain as you gave birth to your child. It stung like nothing else, but V was resolute as he continued, It will remind me to give her every ounce of happiness we took away--I never want to forget that guilt. I played a part in it too.

The Outsider rose a brow, seeming perplexed by the answer as silence stretched between the two. Corvo looked on with confusion, not hearing the exchange but knowing well enough to hold his tongue and stay out of it. Vergil too--what V chose did not involve him anymore, despite how hesitant the choice made the son of Sparda. To have another share that guilt, to live with the aching memories of your suffering...it didn’t seem right, didn’t seem fair. But...V had been inside of him even then, it would make sense that he wanted to help shoulder the blame. And if he could translate that into more love for you...who was he to stop him?

After a few more seconds of silence, the black-eyed bastard nodded, a low smirk on his lips as he flicked his fingers upward. As he did so, black crystalline hands lifted out of the ground beneath Vergil, grasping his arms and legs to lift him up before the god. They were cold, so very cold--one could get frostbite being touched by fingers like these. He then turned to his right, another motion of his hand opening a portal in the chilled air.

Vergil felt his heart pound faster at the sight of your familiar form being lowered down from it, face now peaceful in comparison to before. The whale oil no longer stained your cheeks, body cradled by gentle black hands that held you upright. You were beautiful, weren’t you? Strong, resilient. Everything he had needed, everything he had turned away.

Had he swallowed his pride...would you both have been happy? Nero born somewhere safe, Vergil finding the will to let go of his past and accept the love chosen for him. Would he have found peace, solace? Maybe the son of Sparda could have found the will to seek out Dante with something other than malice, to make amends and help build up Devil May Cry. You would have gotten the chance to raise Nero, to give him all the love he deserved. As for Vergil...To teach Nero how to fight with a sword, to be a father...all the possibilities were laid out before him like a cruel joke, one that he deserved to have thrown in his face.

So many things could have been, but those choices were gone now.

The Outsider approached you with Corvo by his side, laying a gentle hand on your cheek and stroking a thumb over your soft skin. He leaned forward, putting his lips by your ear to whisper something softly, to the point that Vergil could barely hear it.

“I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me,” His voice was gentle, filled with unspoken regrets as he lingered there for a moment with you, “And then...well. I still have much to learn about being your father, don’t I?”

He leaned back, staring at you with calm eyes and an expression of sorrow. They knew damn well what damage had been done to your relationship with him, but...all you had wanted was him to care, to be the parent you had never been allowed, that was very clear. You had it in your heart to forgive your father, that kindness was stronger than anything.

The God finally stepped away from your resting form, leaving Corvo to stand beside you and place a hand to your head. He was a father through and through, having more than likely played a part in bringing you up alongside the Outsider. To see you find happiness seemed like a relief, especially if he could help bring it about. His hand in things was needed, bitter as it was. Vergil was grateful he had saved you from more pain.

No more suffering, no more heartache.

V will be all that you need, and I--

I will set you free.

The Outsider turned back to Vergil, steps careful and measured as he stopped a foot in front of his suspended form. V was quiet again in his head, those sensations of hesitation and worry fading into a dull roar under Vergil’s tormented swirl of emotions. He could still see you there, held up by those hands, oblivious to all that transpired between them. You would never remember loving him first, the pain you suffered in Fortuna, giving birth to your son. Never--you would never know Nero is your flesh and blood, that little boy you gave up everything for. And worst of all...that was for the best, the only way you could exist without agony and despair breaking you in two. He would take the secret to the grave, carry it as a reminder of all he had wronged and make sure you never found out.

Vergil, V finally whispered, sounding tired and hesitant as everything else seemed to quiet, fading into background noise, I...thank you. You are not the same person we were before, and that...is a good thing. For the record...I know you will do right for the next person meant for you, because I can feel how much you loved Y/N. If you can feel that deeply for her after all that transpired...you deserve to be free to love without me there to hurt you.

How could he be kind to Vergil after all the years he spent suppressing his humanity? He had tried to remove V from him entirely, cutting out his humanity like it was nothing but a burden or weakness. And yet...this human half had found kindness and empathy a lot faster than he had, willing to forgive years of stupidity in an instant now that they were being split apart. Seeing something that was once a part of him existing on his own will be strange, but...it would have to be accepted, no matter what.

Let’s both try to do better next time.

The Outsider raised his hand, placing it on Vergil’s forehead as the howling of the Void grew in intensity, filling the space around him with that all too familiar chill. It started seeping into his bones again, wrapping around the very culmination of his being and making his breaths heave out of his chest. It burned, it froze him inside out until he was certain there would never be warmth again, that this cold would carry with him for years to come. He was lucky you had introduced this energy to his human half, the demonic side was flinching away on instinct. But the Outsider was stronger, able to push past and latch onto both parts of him with absolute ease. Like icy fingers on his heart, lungs, organs. Gripping tight and preparing to pull him in half once more.

And through it all, Vergil stared at you with those icy blue eyes, chest aching with that throb of regret and agony. He memorized this feeling, this need and desire. To stroke your cheeks, to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness he didn’t deserve. The son of Sparda would never feel like this again, not for you. All those memories in Fortuna, of his first kiss, making love, falling in love with you bit by bit...They would be empty, memories there but without any substance. You had made him feel weak, so blessedly weak, and he had craved every moment of it. God, he had needed it so much--to let go of that felt so gut-wrenchingly painful, so wrong and agonizing. You were everything, and he was nothing.

And now...now you would be meant for someone else.

This is the end of our story.

Isn’t the ocean beautiful, Vergil? You gentle voice flickered through his mind, accompanied by a memory of sitting beside you on the beaches of Fortuna. The sunlight had made you glow, smile so soft and filled with affection only for him, You should take time to relax more often--you’re bound to get wrinkles frowning like that.

I’m sorry.

It’ll be okay, You whispered that night, stroking his cheek after his nightmare and pressing your lips to his forehead, I am with you, Vergil. Always. You don’t have to hide your pain from me, you don’t have to be ashamed.

I failed you. This is what I deserve.

That warmth was dripping down his cheeks again, under the Outsider’s hand and down to his jaw. No sobs accompanied these tears, but that was for the best. He had no place to cry, not after what he had done. This pain was his punishment, and he would remember it till the day death came for him. Even if he found someone new, even if he somehow managed to move on...he would remember what this taught him, how you had showed him a love he didn’t deserve. He was losing you, his everything--and he would never open his mouth to complain. Not to anyone, never. After those emotions were gone and only the guilt was left behind...the scars would remain for a lifetime, and that was for the best, wasn’t it?

The Outside paused at Vergil’s tears, the God’s silence speaking volumes as he let his hand linger, that cold spreading deeper and deeper until he felt like he was being torn apart inside. Vergil could no longer tell which way was up, could no longer see your sleeping face, beautiful hair, and those lips he once kissed. The blackness was starting to fill him, like the Void itself swallowing whole all that he came to know and accept.

V wasn’t felt anymore, nothing was. Vergil Sparda became one with the dark, body feeling weightless in the pain and sensations pulling him in every direction at once. This was the end, this was the end to his story with you. And it was happening just how he deserved it--bitter, hard to swallow, but with you coming out the other side free of the burden he was. At the end of the day...the only weakness here was him, and you deserved to live with someone who could help you spread those wings.

You could be free. And he would remember where you could not.

“Goodbye, Vergil Sparda,” The Outsider’s whispers reached him in the darkness, low and full of warning as everything faded away, “I hope to the Void that I never have to see you again.”

And with that, came nothingness.

(Nero POV, Hours Later)

The white-haired demon hunter hadn’t stopped pacing since they abandoned the search for you both on the beach.

Seeing the ocean swallow you, seeing Vergil plunge into the water right after...his mind had practically went apeshit, Nero slashing his way through a horde of demons to try and help. As soon as Vergil was gone, the demons seemed to give up, taken down easy and crumbling to nothingness under the weight of his and Dante’s strength. The storm eased up too, rain fading to a drizzle and thunder quieting in the distance. What the hell had happened? What the hell had happened to you? He had dead-sprinted for the water, diving in with his uncle in unison to search for any trace of you or his father, but...nothing. No bodies, no sight of you floating down there or the fiery blue form of Vergil. Something had taken you both, and Nero had an idea of who it was.

Your Deity had played a part in this.

After hours of searching, Kyrie had begged them both to return home. And honestly...what else could they do but listen to her requests? Chilled to the bone, soaked and exhausted from fighting and searching... Nero felt awful, like he had somehow failed you. The boy had sworn that he would keep you safe, but was helpless in watching that fucking asshole snatch you and his father away. As for your familiars...they were even bigger messes than he was. Griffon and the others had went into a blind panic, screeching for you and circling the ocean for hours to find even a trace before Kyrie forced them all to wait on the deck. And that just made shit sadder--they claimed they couldn’t feel you, but the connection was still there.

Shadow hadn’t moved from their spot, staring out at the ocean with sorrowful eyes and drooping ears. Griffon sat on their back looking forlorn, his gold eyes anxiously scanning the line of sand like he would somehow see you there. And Nightmare...he sat down nearby on the sand, shoulders hunched forward and completely silent. All three felt like even bigger failures than Nero--they were your familiars, damn it. It was their job to keep you safe, but they’d been useless too. Now all they could do was wait and hope, which wasn’t much to be honest.

Dante was the one who set about trying to form a game plan, silently furious at the prospect of losing his brother and you at the same time. He called Trish and Lady over to help, contacting Morrison in the hopes of getting information on your God. But...the reigning fact was not much could be done without knowing his name, and that was the one thing you hid from the familiars. Morrison was trying to find shit out through books, looking up things on black eyes and the Void. They hadn’t heard much back, so it was now a waiting game, one that Nero didn’t particularly care for. Things were much easier when he had a target he could punch or shoot at, and in this case…

They had nothing.

Cut to present time, the sky now dark and Nero still pacing the kitchen with measured steps. Kyrie sat at the dining room table with her head resting on her arms, Nico stroking her back from time to time. Christ, there was a sense of dread in the air. The kids had, luckily, not caught wind that you were gone. Lady and Trish had kept them busy while the other adults talked, all the way up until they went to bed and still giving them their little camp out. They could sense something was wrong, but not know what--And each one was smart enough not to ask. Nero felt awful about their worry, but...there was not really any other choices left.

It was already going on ten o’clock, his legs starting to feel tired from the pacing. He leaned against a nearby wall, the cool air from outside blowing through the open door to the deck where Trish stood keeping watch with the familiars. How long were they supposed to wait? What if you and Vergil never came back? The very thought made him squeeze a fist tight enough to crack bone, jaw tight and uncomfortable. You were family, his family, and they all loved and cared about you. Honestly you and Nico were the closest things to sisters he was ever going to get, and that was enough for him. Nero wanted you home, they all did. And if that wasn’t going to happen on its own...he was willing to kick his way into the Void if need be.

“Shit, this sucks…” Nico croaked from the table, making him turn to see her flop down with a low thunk of her head on the wood, “What are we supposed to do? She said that jerk used to erase her memories...what if he does that?”

Nico was already going worse case scenario, which he understood. They had spent the past few hours reasoning and hoping, despair was starting to set in.

The only one who seemed to remain steadfast in her faith was, understandably, Kyrie. She lifted her head from the table, those brown eyes soft and determined as she took one of Nico’s hands in her own.

“She will come home,” She said quietly, but firmly, turning to look at Nero where he stood nearby, “We have to believe in that, believe in her. She would never go quietly, not after everything that has happened.”

He knew that, they all did. These months of living together and working toward letting go of what happened in the Qliphoth tree had taught Nero just how resilient you could be. It would be downright disrespectful to throw in the towel this early on, to give up on you coming home. Morrison would find something out, he had to--and when that call came, they would enter the Void guns blazing if need be. Nero had fought something close to a god before, hadn’t he? He would curb stomp the bastard if it meant getting you home, making Kyrie smile and everyone happy again.

“Vergil isn’t the type to go quietly either,” Dante muttered from his spot standing by the phone, brow furrowed and arms crossed stiffly over his chest. Nero glanced at him, frowning as the older man continued, “Which could be both a bad and good thing. This God is arrogant, self-assured--he’s had a game plan from the start, it’s just shit that we don’t know it.”

Nero let out a light grunt of agreement, running a hand through his white hair as he sighed, “Y/N seemed reluctant to talk about him, she didn’t know his plans either in the long scheme of things and especially not after what he did in the tree.”

He remembered your recollection of that day, having been forced to stand prone by the Deity while V absorbed back into Urizen. The half-demon had noticed something was wrong, had found it odd that you were sitting back and letting V do something so dangerous without bouncing in to stop him. One glance at your face had revealed you pale and face blank, sweat dotting your brow like morning dew. Something had been wrong, but they was so much going on at the time that he didn’t know what to do, how to help. The rest had fallen to pieces, and he was left regretting not stepping in. The God had been there with you, holding you down like some monster and leaving you in desperation and terror. Nero should have done something, anything.

But that was the past.

Now he was left waiting again. Helpless. And that didn’t feel right at all.

Nero let out an aggravated sigh, pushing off from the wall to start pacing again. He could feel Kyrie’s worried eyes on him, watching as he walked to the door and looked out along the beach. Like checking again would somehow change anything. The silence was heavy and stifling, sky now clear enough to showcase the stars above Fortuna in all their glory. Far too calm despite all that had gone down. The familiars had not moved from their posts, seeming glum and tired as they kept their eyes on the beach. Nero hated admitting it, but he felt bad for them--this had to be worrisome considering how dependent they were on you.

Griffon let out a low trill when the silence persisted, his sapphire feathers shuddering and showcasing all those glowing marks woven between as he muttered, “Shoulda done somethin, shoulda been faster. We said we’d keep her safe, but choked at the follow through,” He sounded forlorn, tail feathers drooping pitifully as he closed his golden eyes, “She was afraid something bad was gonna happen and I told her not to worry, like a fucking idiot.”

Your instincts had always been keen, there was no denying that. Now that Nero put some thought into it...things had worked out far too conveniently.

He blew some air out from between his cheeks, leaning against the door frame to the kitchen as he replied, “Stupid is in your blood, chicken. You did come from Vergil, after all.”

Well, that certainly ruffled his feathers. Griffon puffed up in instant annoyance, glaring daggers at the white-haired boy as he snapped, “Is that your idea of comforting someone, slim? You are really bad at this shit, you know that right?”

Nero let out a slow, heavy sigh, looking away and scratching the back of his neck. Yeah, he knew pretty damn well that emotional support wasn’t his best feature. It was a lot easier when it came to Kyrie, she always knew exactly what people needed to hear and said it with enough faith and certainty to put her point across. He was a lot rougher around the edges, finding it easier to fight and protect people that way rather than with words. Maybe that’s why Kyrie evened him out so well?

Regardless.

“...I think that God would have taken her even if you had been attached at the hip,” He reasoned after a brief moment of silence, broken only by the sounds of the ocean rolling over the sandy beach, “That bastard would have ripped you off of Y/N in an instant. So...don’t beat yourself up too bad, chicken.”

Griffon paused at that, probably not expecting anything remotely resembling kind words to come from Nero’s mouth. On the ground, Shadow’s ears flicked upwards for a moment, mourning eyes drifting to the demon-hunter’s face.

The bird finally sighed, looking away toward the ocean and settling into his own feathers a bit, “Maybe,” He muttered, sounding glum and irritable, “But we wouldn’t have known until we tried.”

And that’s all we could have done--tried.

Nero let out another slow breath, turning to look back in the kitchen and leave the familiars to their musings. Talking wasn’t helping anyone. Well...at least not for him--Dante was back to theorizing with Lady and Trish at the table, a book open between them depicting stories of ancient beings and legends spoken by demonologists and religious nuts alike.

None spoke of anything close enough to you worth sticking to, your powers far too spread across several spectrums and different words and phrasing used for each one. The “Void” was a common term for so many things, some ranging from hell to purgatory, the latter sounding closer to what you described according to the ladies. The Void is a place where broken souls go when they die. Problem was nothing really mentioned that to such fine details.

As for your “God”...well, everyone was looking for a name. You not being able to describe him when last you spoke of him hadn’t helped, so they were at a standstill as to who he could be. Not of any legend or part of mythology Dante knew the specifics on. He had sensed your power when he met you, telling right away that you were the follower of a God that did not align himself with good or evil. Something dark and chaotic, mischievous--he had met beings like that before, ones who prided themselves on simply seeking entertainment and manipulation of human souls. Regardless, he had guessed right that the God didn’t come from any part of the known realms he was familiar with. The sensation that came when that portal had opened to grab you was one of darkness, the cold. Not demonic, not angelic. Something...else.

But where is this place, and how can we get there?

“You think we should perform a ritual even when we do find out?” Trish sounded displeased, lips drawn in a firm frown as she stared at Dante’s face, “I don’t trust this creature, it’s a risk we can’t take.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Trish,” Dante huffed in response, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. Now dressed in his own clothes, especially considering the ones he borrowed from Nero had been soaking wet after their searching in the rain, “You think I’m not ready to tango with a God? He doesn’t impress me with these little parlor tricks of his.”

“Oh I know--And that’s exactly what I’’m afraid of.”

Dante clicked his tongue at Trish’s heavily annoyed tone, looking away and rubbing a hand over his unshaven jaw. She wasn’t having any of his brazen, hot-headed stunts that day it would seem. Nero hated that he wanted to side with Dante, but the devil hunter was raring to go and put some action to this situation. If this God wanted to play ball, he was more than willing to come in swinging. And kicking. And shooting. Sitting back and waiting for things to change was making him irritable now, so if they didn’t come up with something...well, dangerous or not, if a lead came they had to take it. They owed it to you to at least try.

But...it would seem no ritual would be needed.

Something...felt off. It was getting colder, the air taking on a strange chill despite how warm it had been during the day. It made Nero freeze, looking quickly at his uncle and seeing a similar realization echoing in his eyes. He felt that too, didn’t he? That eerie feeling, like something cold and dark was trying to--

“Dante…! Nero!”

Griffon’s frantic screech made everyone look up, seeing the bird start flapping his wings and staring up at the sky with alarmed eyes. Shadow skidded to their feet, a roaring ripping its way from their throat as they took off out of sight, paws pounding into sand and faster than a bullet. Every person in the room stood in an instant, rushing outside to see exactly what had gotten the creature’s attention--but Nero already had a guess.

He had felt it in the air right as the bird spoke, the temperature started dropping rapidly and a prickle of energy had tapped its way along his spine. A similar feeling to how your powers felt when activated, but far stronger and stiffing. He took off out the door before everyone else, one hand already gripping the handle of the Red Queen before he had even lifted his eyes to the sky.

Something broke the clear night air, a fissure that extended like a black fracture between the stars and clouds. It was unnerving--resembling the jagged edges of a sadistic smile, its maw partially opened and leaking out a cold that did not belong in the waking world. Nero felt his heart rate speed up with the prospect of battle, hairs standing up on the back of his neck as hands started to creep their way out of the portal. There was no hesitation, he and Dante took off at the same breakneck speed down the beach with their feet digging into the sand, Griffon sailing on sapphire wings right beside them. Lady and Trish followed as quickly as they could manage, Trish yelling to Nico and Kyrie to stay behind where it was safe. That was for the best, none of them knew what they were dealing with at that moment.

Dante skidded to a halt mere feet from the portal above, eyes sharp and attentive as a few more black, crystalline appendages weaved their way into the air. Both men had swords raised, in fighting stances like they were preparing for war. To be honest, the God’s level of unpredictability was part of the issue--if he couldn’t be understood, then no chances could be taken. But...the arms were not making any motions to attack, merely drifting and twitching without rhyme or reason in the night air. Nero exchanged a quick look with his uncle when a lack of violence persisted, a low hum of energy and whispers filling the space around them. Like a thousand voices where speaking in hushed voices, but making no sense.

Nero didn’t have the patience for the otherworldly shit. And neither did Dante.

“Not showing your face this time?” The older man taunted loudly to the open portal, taking a step forward and holding out his hands in challenge, “This theatrical shit ain’t my shtick, so let’s get to the show already…!”

His words were met with silence, only broken by the low whispers and the howling of wind. Griffon landed on Shadow’s back, both familiars staring up at the sky with desperation, a hint of hope and despair. This was the only sign they had received since you were taken, and it was more than they had hours ago. Nero was prepared to launch into the portal if he needed to, not willing to let this opportunity pass up with so much on the line. You were family now, and contrary to what he wanted and felt... so was Vergil. He wasn’t about to let some smug god take away his closure, his ability to tell that spiky-haired bastard exactly what he felt. And if that meant plunging into the unknown...he would do it, for you, for the kids, for Kyrie. She knew he could handle it, knew he always came back to her.

She trusts me. She always has.

The hands from the portal twitched before he could even begin readying himself, gripping the jagged edges of emptiness like they could somehow pry them open wider. Which they did--the portal opened several inches, exposing more of the dark to their eyes and sending the temperature down several degrees. Cold enough that Nero could see his breath, goosebumps rising on the flesh of his exposed arms. The appendages glittered like obsidian, holding there without moving another inch and seeming oblivious to the men down below. Shadow let out a low growl at Nero’s feet, baring their teeth skywards in a threatening manner. He doubted the two had any patience left to give either, not with their lives ridding on yours.

Griffon extended his wings, feathers rippling like he was contemplating flying up into the portal himself. A risky move, one that Nero knew you would not want happening. But there would be no need, not when something new started to slip out of the inky darkness above their heads.

That’s--

Both Nero and Dante gasped when a body fell out from the blackness above, landing limply on the sand in a flash of white hair and a familiar black and blue jacket--Vergil. He was unconscious again, but not looking hurt in the slightest save for his hair being messed up and discoloration in his cheeks. Dante didn’t hesitate like Nero did--he rushed forward in an instant, gripping the man by his coat to drag him away from the Void portal and not seeming hindered despite how heavy the half-demon was. Vergil let out a low grunt at the motion, head lolling to the side as he was rolled over and propped up into an awkward sitting position.

He looked alright, didn’t he? Just exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and hair draping down in messy pieces from his usual hairstyle.

“Vergil…!” Dante exclaimed, looking worried as he shook his brother by the shoulders and looked him over for wounds, “Talk to me, Verg--you alright? Can you hear me?”

Vergil let out a low groan, the sound raw and raspy. As if he had inhaled shards of glass, or had been screaming for hours. Nero watched in worry as he blinked his icy blue eyes slowly, seeming dazed and confused of his surroundings and…volatile, uneasy. Seeing such emotion on the stoic man felt strange, incredibly off. He watched as his father gripped Dante’s shirt for a moment, like he was testing the solidity of it, and stared at his brother as if he was several miles away. Even Dante seemed surprised by his siblings expression, more worry taking away his usually bemused demeanor and one of his hands resting on Vergil’s shoulder.

“Hey--you alright?” He repeated, firmer this time as he pinched a part of Vergil’s cheek, “Up and at ‘em, brother. We need to know what happened in there.”

Vergil swatted his hand away, the annoyance flickering across his expression more in tune to how he usually was. He turned away, resting one hand on the sand and taking slow, measured breathes through his teeth.

Is he okay?

“I...I am undecided on how I feel at the moment,” He muttered hoarsely, pressing his fingers to his temple and closing those tired eyes again, “And I...I…”

He trailed off, lifting his head to instead gaze up at the portal above with apprehension and a million other emotions on his face. Fear, anger, regret, sorrow, remorse...was that what Nero was seeing? Certainly not on Vergil, the cold and cocky man who seemed to feel nothing after causing the calamity in Red Grave, after discovering he had a fucking son. It was almost insulting to see such a level of emotion now, but it was far too tempered by his own shock and worry to be even remotely stinging. He lifted his eyes too, just in enough time to see more black, obsidian arms reaching out of the portal, but...this time they brought another body with them.

Oh thank God.

Griffon and Shadow let out varying sounds of relief and delight at the sight of you wrapped in those black arms, the bird springing up and meeting them halfway so he could anxiously press his beak to your face. You were unconscious too, skin pale and hair draped around your cheeks as the hands brought you gingerly to the floor. Far more carefully that they had with Vergil, who had been practically tossed out onto the sand.

Nero dropped the Red Queen instantly, lurching forward so he could put out his arms underneath you before your body touched the ground. Thank the Gods in heaven, you weren’t injured either--still breathing, heart still beating, but feeling chilled to the bone after your time in the Void. Nero let out a sigh of relief, crouching down at Shadow’s insistent cries to the cat could lick frantically at your face and hair.

They’re both fine--they’re both fine and alive.

“Toots…!” Griffon cawed in something close to a sob, hovering around you with worried eyes and feathers puffed out, “Is she okay? We can’t see what happened--everything in her head feels messed with…!”

Messed with? The God didn’t erase your memory, did he? That made Nero frown, unable to tell if anything had been taken just by looking at you. But what was the point of erasing your memories just to give you back?

“She good?” Dante asked, peering over Nero’s shoulder worriedly so he too could look at your face.

Nero paused, watching as Griffon landed on the ground nearby and pressed his beak into your limp, cold hand, “She’s freezing, but that’s to be expected,” The white-haired boy lifted his eyes upwards, noting that the portal still had not closed despite depositing the two people they had been looking for, “What the hell was the point of this? Yanking them in only to give them back unharmed hours later? I don’t get it.”

Vergil let out a bitter, bark of a laugh at Nero’s words, making both he and Dante turn to look at him. The older male was leaning forward on the beach, one hand bracing him while the other pressed to his temple like someone had cracked him over the skull. Something his son had said seemed bitterly amusing to him, the expression tempered with exhaustion and...what was that look? So faraway, so unlike the proud bastard to wear remorse on his sleeve in such a manner.

What the hell had happened to him in there?

“The Outsider...got exactly what he desired,” Vergil whispered, lifting his fingers away so he could give them a light flex, “Everything played out exactly as he wanted it. There was no reason to keep us--it was never about that in the first place. And it feels...so very odd...very...”

His words trailed off, so low that it was almost impossible to hear. But Nero caught the back end of it, or at least what his ears thought they had translated from the jumbled mess that broke from Vergil’s lips.

“...Empty…”

Empty? What did he mean by that?

And what the hell is “the Outsider”?

Was that the God’s name, the one they had spent so long trying to figure out? So unassuming, something he never would have guessed. It was a bit mysterious and annoying too, absolutely fitting of this creature who became a steady thorn in everyone’s sides.

But that was a thought for another time. What the half-demon said was far more concerning to Nero.

Dante seemed troubled as well, putting an arm slowly around Vergil’s waist to help him up off of the ground, “Come on, you’re disoriented right now. We’d better get them inside, Nero,” He looked at you, still in the boy’s arms and showing no sign of waking, “We can ask questions tomorrow, neither of them are in any shape to answer anything.”

Much to Nero’s shock, Vergil did not protest his brother’s help. He let the other male lift him up, head still lowered and a look of exhaustion in his eyes. There was a conflicted tone in his expression, lacking the usual anger or pride that came with taking Dante’s assistance with anything. And he wasn’t oblivious to it--the seasoned devil hunter looked even more worried, pausing for a moment like he was waiting for Vergil to push him away, or maybe a snide remark about how he could “do it on his own”. No such thing came, and that was pretty unsettling to say the least.

All they could do now was go home and try to piece together what had happened. Something big must have gone down to unsettle Vergil so heavily, to stomp down his pride and anger until something broken remained. Nero hated to admit how worried he was about his old man, but the sensation was there and growing. This incident was done, and he wanted nothing more than to go back to the orphanage and leave the mystery until morning reared its head the next day.

But the portal was still open.

And it was not done yet.

Nero had told himself that if it continued to remain open they would have someone keep watch, that it could be dealt with after making sure both of you were safe. He didn’t know what could be done, but leaving it to linger on the beaches of Fortuna wasn’t an option, especially not with the kids in the orphanage being so close. Morrison was still doing his research, they could try using the Yamato if needed to close it and bring so peace for a little while at least.

But...a crackling sound made them both turn, confusion in Nero’s expression as he saw the hands twitch and rotate in the portal above. A few retreated back, some lingering the keep it wide open enough to allow a person through. For a brief, horrifying moment Nero thought the “Outsider” would come out of it himself, to speak with his cursed lips or attack them while their guard was down.

But no…what did come out of the portal was far more jarring.

What the hell…? What the hell is that?

Nero felt himself tense up in shock and disbelief as another body started being lowered down by the hands of dark crystal. Recognition was working its way into the chorus of emotions in the boy’s head, skidding everything to a confused halt as he took in this new person’s appearance. He saw a flash of white hair draping in front of an all too familiar face, long arms dangling limply down from a naked body barely covered by the modesty of the hands. Pale skin, scars lining his shoulder from when the horseman attacked him all those months ago in Red grave. There was no way--There was no fucking way, that is impossible. The boy couldn’t believe his eyes, even when the hands laid the familiar body gently down onto the sand, his nude form easy to spot in the moonlight and laying on his stomach with his head tilted to the side. Allowing them both to see his face, but hiding the parts of him they’d rather not see.

That’s impossible--

He can’t be here, can he?

But there was no mistaking the man Nero had traveled and spoken with all those months ago. The image of his face had not faded in the slightest.

V was laying lying on the beach.

The hands set him down gently, retreating back into the portal and leaving his unconscious form to rest on the sands with that white hair drifting ever so slightly. The fingers gripping the portal to hold it open finally let go, the jagged maw snapping shut with a crack that rang through the night air. Slowly, painfully so, the edges of the portal fused together until it disappeared into nothing, a warm breeze washing away the cold it had brought moments prior.

The whispering was gone, the howling was gone, and all that was left in its wake was the blissful sound of rolling waves and the gentle thrum of the wind chimes the children had hung a few weeks ago around the deck. Neither made things feel any less chaotic--Nero looked between Vergil and the man on the beach in an almost comedic fashion, watching as his father turned to glance back at V with his own expression of recognition. And of clarity.

He knew exactly who it was lying there, and didn’t seemed shocked in the slightest. Nor did he seem...incomplete, like Urizen was still absent and no longer split in two. No, Vergil seemed like his usual self minus the exhaustion and the complete whirlwind of emotion he was expressing. In fact, the only thing he seemed to show other than tiredness when looking at V was...satisfaction? Relief? Tinged with his remorse and guilt, one that did not fade as he lowered his head once more, eyes closing like everything had finally reached its conclusion. Dante was staring in absolute shock as well, a muscle twitching in his jaw as those gears in his brain tried to work out just what the hell was going on.

What the fuck happened in there?

How is he HERE?

How is this possible?

“Holy fucking shit…!” Griffon whispered in front of them both, reminding Nero that he and the big cat existed, “Is that...is that Shakespeare?!”

Shadow stared with wide eyes as well, ears pressing flat against their skull and now silent in the face of all the madness. Griffon exchanged a long glance with Dante, both seeming at a loss for words with V’s body lying there on the sand with no one knowing just how the fuck it was possible. There was no mistaking it though--that was V, in the flesh on the sands of Fortuna but without his tattoos or black hair. It made sense, the familiars were no longer connected to him after he went back into Vergil’s body. Nero couldn’t wrap his head around anything anymore, not a damn bit of it. All he knew was something had happened in the Void, and now Vergil was a trainwreck, and V was somehow alive as well.

While Vergil was still in existence.

Holy fuck, this is insane.

“How the fuck is this possible?” Nero hissed, turning to level his gaze on Vergil’s lowered face and feeling his anger spike back again. What were they supposed to think, to trust? How could his father be here while his human half was separated again?

Vergil let out a low sigh, opening his eyes so he could shift them over and stare at his son. He flinched for a moment, grimacing like Nero had reached out and slapped him and wearing a look on his face the boy didn’t...understand. Why is he looking at me like that? Like just staring at me is complete agony. Guilt was back again, a realization that made Vergil look a thousand times more tired than he did before. No more condescending stares, no more cocky attitude...Vergil was looking at his son like a man who had failed him in every single way.

And that...that was even more unsettling.

It hurt, he didn’t like it.

“...The Outsider has a way of getting what he wants,” Vergil replied, low and hoarse as he held Nero’s confused gaze, “All of this was to...punish me, and to return V back to Y/N without me losing my humanity. He...simply made it so my humanity was rebuilt anew, and took V’s half-soul and made it a full one of his own.”

Was...was all of that really possible? Nero felt disbelief slipping onto his expression, but Vergil didn’t sound like he was lying. It would make sense as to why he was so messed up, anyone would be if they had their soul rearranged and altered in such a manner. Maybe what Nero saw as guilt was merely his father feeling unsettled, confused and messed up by the apparent punishments he received while in the Void. There were so many questions to ask, but this was not the time to do any of that--Not with everyone so on edge, not with Vergil looking like he was on the verge of falling over and passing out again.

Nero needed to stay level-headed, focused.

“Son of a bitch…!” He cursed, pulling his gaze away from his father and looking at Dante, “What the hell should we do? Is that possible?”

Dante blew out some air from between his cheeks, frowning and deep in thought as he replied, “With a God like this one? Sure is,” He turned away from the confusion boy, yelling to Trish and Lady staring from their defensive positions a few feet back. Both looked like they were in varying stages of shock, looking between you, Vergil, and V and at a loss for words, “Care to lend a hand? Nero, give them Y/N and carry V to the house for me--we can figure shit out later, I gotta call Morrison.”

Lady and Trish jolted when spoken to, exchanging a brief glance before putting their weapons away and rushing forward to help. Nero handed you to Lady easily enough, the woman not hindered by your weight in the slightest and just looking relieved to have you back. He felt the same way, but damn if he wasn’t at a loss for words right now. Griffon and Shadow followed both women when they rushed you back to the house, Kyrie and Nico meeting them halfway with cries of delight and joy.

Seeing his wife so happy for your return made everything worth it--he could worry about the confusing shit at another time. They couldn’t very well leave V alone and nude on the beach overnight, that would be cruel despite all that had happened. Contrary to how his father seemed, V had been his better half, his humanity. Despite Nero’s doubts...being angry could wait.

So he nodded at Dante, turning his back and heading toward V’s prone form and shrugging off his coat in the process. The former goth was certainly out like a light, there was no denying that. But he looked...better than he did before. No longer carrying dark circles under his eyes, pallor more of a normal pale than the sickly one he carried whilst limping his way around the Qliphoth. Nero thought he would never see the poet again, so doing so now was...very odd, unsettling in a way. V’s black vest and slacks were long gone, it would seem, naked as the day he was born--wait, was V born? This was getting SO confusing.

Nero shook his head, sighing as he rolled the poet over and draping the coat over him in one fluid motion. No offense to the guy, but he’d rather not carry him around with his dick out for all to see--nothing personal. Only then did he lift V up, noting that he pretty much weighed the same as the last time Nero had carried him. On the way to Urizen, holding up the poet’s form with one arm as they walked and spoke of who the demon was. All those half truths were pretty aggravating in retrospect. V had only given him enough of the story to make it sound believable, conveniently leaving out how he himself half also been Vergil too. Typical.

Regardless.

It was a quick trek back to the house, one filled with unanswered questions that hung in the air and weighed him down at the same time. Did...did you know that V was back? What did it mean for Vergil now that his human half had been removed and changed? You had loved V so much, to the point that your love extended to Vergil too despite how much you tried to deny it. Nero had seen it in your eyes the instant his father returned, a deep ache that refused to quit no matter how much you reasoned through it. But now...everything would change, everything. Hell, what did this make V in relation to him? A second father? An uncle? Brother? Christ, everything was a mess.

He tried to ignore it as he carried V inside, Trish closing the door behind him with an absolutely incredulous look. Nero didn’t blame her--he felt the same way.

He looked gazed the kitchen, not seeing his wife nor Lady in the warm glow of the light overhead. Vergil was sitting at the dining table, head held up only by his hands and quiet as a mouse. Those blue eyes didn’t open even when Nero came in, the man looking like an absolute mess all things considered. He would have to be focused on later.

“Where’s Kyrie?” Nero asked Dante, who was standing by the phone on the wall and patiently waiting on the line for Morrison, most likely.

The grizzled man pointed upwards, signals read loud and clear as he covered the mouthpiece of the phone in hand, “They took the kid to her room--I told her to bring down a few sheets for V as well, ‘cause no offense...I don’t wanna tackle dressing him.”

That was completely fair and understandable. Nero didn’t want to do that either.

Speaking of his wife, she came back downstairs in that moment, looking a bit frazzled and clutching a bundle of sheets wrapped around a pillow. Everything had grown incredibly chaotic in the past few hours, even Kyrie had her limits of where level-headedness failed to solve problems. She very carefully made sure not to look at V’s body as she followed Nero into the garage, placing the poet down on the cot and taking the items from her hands a moment later. Precious, adorable woman was trying so hard to protect V’s modesty, red cheeks and eyes making sure to look away until Nero had placed both sheets over his body, pillow under his head.

“It’s safe to look,” He told her, holding a hand on her cheek and stroking his thumb on that soft, familiar skin, “I’m sorry about everything that’s going on, babe...shit has gone completely off the rails.”

She smiled at that, meeting his anxious eyes with her own warm, brown orbs. A light kiss to his lips followed, taking with it all his fears and worries in an instant like a breath of fresh air.

“Don’t worry,” She promised, turning to finally look down at V’s sleeping face with curious eyes, “I’ve never seen him before...but Y/N talked about him a lot. V is truly special to her, and now...now he’s back. And that...that’s what matters, we can figure everything out as we go.”

He nodded at her words, taking solace in how steady and reasonable she sounded. Always the voice of reason, his shelter in the storm. Things always worked out when Kyrie made them so, and he would hold faith to that despite how batshit insane everything seemed.

Focus on the good for now, the rest would fall into place.

So, he kissed her hand, standing in the doorway and watching as she walked back into the kitchen to survey how everyone was doing. Trish was sitting at the table trying to question Vergil, getting barely anything resembling responses while Dante talked over what happened with Morrison over the phone. Nero still felt...uneasy about how his father was doing, watching as Vergil practically peeled his eyes open to stare in exhaustion at Trish’s annoyed face. The poor guy looked like he needed a round of shots and then some--there was no telling what kind of punishments a god could put in place for a man like him. Whatever had happened left him without the energy to even banter with Dante, left him...guilty.

Kyrie wasn’t oblivious to any of it either. She paused by the coffee table, eyes understandably concerned as she graced Vergil with that caring expression of hers. Kyrie was such a fucking angel, far better a person than Nero--despite all his father had done, to him and others...she was still willing to help, to try and ease his suffering. The only reason Nero hadn’t kicked Vergil’s ass again was due to his wife talking him down from that anger, reasoning out why he should try and talk to this man who was his father. Kyrie was so good, a shining light in comparison to both Nero and Vergil in kind. And he couldn’t talk her out of that kindness, even for those who didn’t deserve it.

It was why Nero held his tongue while Kyrie paused, hesitating as she stared at Vergil’s face like those motherly instincts were battling with the reasoning inside her head. But, as always, kindness would always be the victory in these types of inner conflicts. A second later, she inhaled, putting on her most gentle, hesitant voice as she placed a hand on the table to get Vergil’s attention.

“Mister Vergil?” She asked, smiling softly when his father tilted his gaze in her direction with a hint of surprise, “Would you like some tea? I have herbal remedies that might make you feel better, you must be very tired.”

Say one mean thing to my wife, and you’re dead meat.

Nero stiffened, narrowing his eyes at Vergil as he waited for a response. Kyrie’s kindness aside, he was more than ready to punt the man out the door for her sake even if he was going through some rough shit. She always took priority, and anyone without manners didn’t belong in their house anyway.

But...Vergil managed to shock him again.

He merely closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath and running a hand through his messed up hair. Tone tired, voice heavy and hoarse as he replied quietly to her question.

“If it doesn’t burden you...then I wouldn’t mind some tea.”

Cue shocked stares from Trish, Nero, and Dante in kind. Vergil’s brother especially, his mouth popped open in surprise and eyes practically burning a hole into the man’s back. Out of everyone in the room, the devil hunter knew Vergil the most, so this must have been incredibly out of character, to be even remotely polite in any circumstance. But...Kyrie didn’t seem to mind, looking downright tickled pink as she nodded and turned toward the stove, putting the kettle on to boil and searching for their tea set in the cupboard. Damn, things were just growing more and more confusing, weren’t they? A downright mess, one that had been preparing to blow up after months of peace and quiet for all of them.

But...Nero looked back at V’s peaceful face, his chest rising and falling with slow, even breaths. He looked at his father, seeing a change in him that was far beyond what anyone could comprehend. Everyone was back together, alive, whole. And you would get the love of your life back, after all these months of pain and suffering. He didn’t know what the God did, what transpired during those hours of time only you and Vergil had experienced.

Regardless of all those uncertainties...he found himself far more relieved and happy than anything else. And if things tried to fall apart again…

Well. Then they would fix it.

(Your POV, the next Day)

Something...something is missing.

Something was taken.

Something was gone.

You had your memories altered frequently enough to know what your head had been fucked with. The sensation was unmistakable, more familiar than anything else as you started pulling yourself out of unconsciousness bit by bit. Back in that damned, dark pool of water again, the same one that weighed down your limbs and fogged out everything else. There were so many questions, so many swirling thoughts that constricted your mind like the flow of water. What had happened while in the Void with Vergil? Everything was so fuzzy after the second trial, cutting off abruptly after the Outsider started changing things over. Why couldn’t you remember? Did Vergil fail the third trial, is that why your head had been altered? For a brief, fleeting moment of panic that was the conclusion you drew, scrambling to pull yourself out of the darkness and back into waking once more.

Get up, we have to do something.

Everything was so god damn heavy. It was like trying to yank your limbs out of mud, one appendage at a time, finger by finger. Waking came in bits and pieces, some faster than others, some slow and agonizingly patient. The sensation of warmth came first, a far cry from the Void despite that chill still lingering in your bones and limbs. Not that much time had passed, then--but the fact that you were no longer in the Void was startling enough. Or...was this another illusion, one brought about to make you feel a strange sense of comfort? You thought that living in the Void long enough gave you a good sense of reality, but...those trials had shaken your confidence a bit more than you’d care to admit.

That uncertainty continued even as you regained feelings one by one, recognizing the softness of your own comforter under your shoulders and fingertips. My room? The taste of salt water was in the air, the sound of billowing curtains reaching your ears as the muffled feeling of being underwater faded away. Was it morning? How had you gotten home? And when? The breeze felt so real, so unbelievably welcome as it washed over your skin like a gentle caress. Illusion or not, you could have wept at the familiarity of your home, the sanctuary of your bedroom. It was on that comfort alone that you willed your eyes to open, flinching at the sunlight and lifting a hand to shield yourself from the glare.

Home...you were home.

You breathed slowly in and out as you watched the white curtains flow on the breeze, light and airy as they drifted above your bed. Dust motes danced in the sun’s rays, barely visible to the naked eye, but there nonetheless. Was...was this real? Were you really back, safe and sound? But...what about Vergil?

Wait...something was off.

Worry...you were worried about Vergil, wanted to make sure he was safe after the ordeal he went through. The trauma of his mother’s death, of seeing the truths he fought so long to ignore...was he okay, after all of those terrible things? You still felt concerned about him, mind swirling with questions that weren’t answered. But...why did this feel off, different? Lacking its weight, lacking the spark it had before.

You waited for that sensation to return at the thought of him, that deep ache in your chest that longed for his touch and affections. Because V was a part of the surly man, and you longed to have him back even if it meant learning to love Vergil too. But...nothing came? You blinked, breath catching in your lungs as you searched inside yourself for those feelings, for that deep desire that had driven your emotions and actions for so many months. But...when you thought of Vergil, it felt strangely...disconnected. The worry for his well being existed, you still cared about his safety and his traumas after what happened...but something was very lacking, and you couldn’t figure out what.

That love for V was still there, thinking of him still made you ache and crave and hurt terribly. That was stronger than ever, a flame that would never go out inside of you for as long as you lived. If you were still in love with your poet, why did everything with Vergil feel so off now? Maybe...maybe that was what the Outsider altered, alongside your memories? But...he couldn’t have done such a thing, it would never benefit anything for either parties. The thought made your panic grow deeper, heartbeat speeding up at the idea of not being able to love V in his new form, the only opportunity you would get to have him again. Even if the son of Sparda had hurt you, even if he was cruel...you wanted to try, and that was never a choice you had wanted taken away.

Feeling that way felt so empty compared to before, lacking the conviction and focus. No reason to now, your mind told you, shrugging it all off like it was nothing. Didn’t it matter? Didn’t you want it to?

This should matter, shouldn’t it?

You bit down on the confusing sensations, sitting up slowly and pressing a hand to your head. Upon further inspection, you were still wearing your clothes from the previous day, but the cuts on your arms were now gone. A frown marred your lips as you inspected them, lifting your palms to search for any trace of soot or ash from the fire--nothing, like none of the trials had even happened. There was no way all of it had been a dream, of that you were certain. The pain had been real, that raw, aching emotion. Your Deity had a hand in all of this, down to the last detail--you just didn’t know what he hoped to gain. It hurt to think of how complicated your relation with him had become, your father figure and only parent to speak of. He cared about you, didn’t he? It seemed like he did, at least from what memory you had.

Christ, my head is all messed up.

You quickly surveyed your room, feeling a bit surprised at the sight of Lady asleep in an armchair, one tucked away near the steps leading up. When had she gotten here? The woman certainly looked...real. Leaning her head on one hand, lips parted with light breaths and wearing a tank top with black shorts. The sun made beautiful patterns on her thighs, dancing and swaying each time the curtains billowed. You hadn’t seen her in a month, having spoken and caught up during a visit to the orphanage not that long ago. Tears sprang to your eyes, heart aching now that she was there again like a life preserver in the sea of uncertainty. Waking up alone would have been awful in that moment, but...you realized that wouldn’t have been the case either.

Sitting up jostled a familiar cat-shape next to you, Shadow yawning and looking up at your face with bleary eyes. You breathed out a sigh of relief, hugging your arms around the demon and feeling that comforting purr in response--thank god, thank god. Real, solid, not an illusion. They felt happy to see you as well, seemingly unharmed by your time disconnected from them, which was a relief all its own. That connection was now loud and clear, a soundless cry and happiness coming from your familiar as you shared a brief moment of comfort.

Upon looking to your left, Griffon’s form was found huddled above your pillow, reflecting the light beautifully from his sapphire feathers and eyes still squeezed shut. Even in rest you could feel his worry and fear for you, stroking a hand down his back and smiling softly. Poor boy had a rough time when you were taken, that was for sure. It looked like he had preened his feathers one too many times in stress, quite a few missing from his tail. You felt so bad, forgetting your own woes for a moment in light of his as you gently scooped him up into your arms, the bird almost curled into a ball while sleeping. He gave a light trill when you did so, feathers shuddering out in delight when you scratched under his beak. So simple, as always.

This is real, isn’t it? This is reality.

No more illusions.

For a few moments, things passed peacefully that way. You grounded yourself in reality, memorizing the sensation of Griffon’s silky feathers under your fingertips and counting each breath. That black strand of hair was back, which meant Nightmare must have returned to you while unconscious. His presence was most certainly there, gracing the edges of your mind in a low, wordless rumble of relief that made you give a gentle smile.The sun was warm, the breeze soothing, and both familiars were now held against you in a gentle, comforting manner. Enough to prove the truth before you, enough to shake off some of the fear and worry. But...not all of it--you still didn’t know what happened to Vergil, after all, and that was making your concern and hesitation grow like vines gripping your lungs and heart.

You heard low voices talking downstairs, barely audible through the floors and almost intelligible. It was uncertain if any of them were Vergil, but you were certain you heard Nero tell someone “Clothes first--then you can go see her.”

Clothes first? Her? Were they talking about you?

There wasn’t long to ponder it. Griffon started blinking awake in the next moment, squinting around the room before lifting his golden eyes up to your face. He earned a soft smile from you, his thoughts reached through your connection in a slow growth of shock and utter relief once he registered it was you holding him in your lap.

He jolted immediately, maw popping open as he squawked in surprise, “Toots….! You’re awake!”

“Shh…” You put a finger to your lips to shush him, looking up to see if he had woken up Lady at all.

Unfortunately, it seemed like he had, unable to control his volume in such excitement. The woman in the chair started to stir, blinking awake right when Griffon pressed his beak insistently to your face, like doing so would somehow convey his level of urgency. Mind you, it did, but you felt a little bad about Lady being awoken by all the noise.

“You okay, toots?” Griffon squawked insistently, clawed feet gripping onto your arm as you let out a huff of air, “Hurt anywhere? Forgetting anythin’? What did the big bad bastard in the sky do to you?”

Well, that was a lot to answer, and worse so considering you had no idea how to respond to the ending two. No pain, but if you were forgetting memories how the hell could you know what they had been? Something was definitely missing, but...it was just that third trial, nothing else. Your mind still remembered V, your family in Fortuna, the familiars. Just what had Vergil seen that the Outsider felt the need to take away? It made no sense.

And trying to figure it out was...making you feel uneasy, like something was prickling its way along your spine. A warning, one that felt close to your Foresight and froze the thought before it had the chance to form.

Bad, bad. You should stop doing that.

Don’t--just leave it alone for now.

“Y/N...!”

You looked up in just enough time to see Lady launch herself from the chair, wrapping both arms around you and the familiars with a sigh of relief. Warm, she was warm and real. It was almost overwhelming for a moment, tears pricking your eyes and head leaning against her shoulder as the torrent of leftover fear and uncertainty tried to surge again. It had been so frightening, not knowing if you would be allowed to come home, trying to hold Vergil’s head above water through a flood of punishment and pain. You never wanted to lose what was here, this feeling of belonging and love. Nor did you want anyone to suffer that same fate, one of being thrown into the Void with no hope of getting out.

Regardless.

“Y...you’re here…” You whispered to Lady, leaning back and letting her cup both cheeks, “What...what happened? How did I get home? Did Vergil make it back too?”

Please tell me he did--I don’t know if I could be allowed back there to find him.

But Lady smiled softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead and bringing an air of ease with it. There was no doubt she was sensing how overwhelmed you were, how worried. But if she wasn’t upset or concerned...things had to be alright, didn’t they? She would not lie.

“He’s alright,” She said soothingly, squishing your cheeks together lovingly, in a childish manner, “A portal appeared and spit you out onto the beach--he was downstairs with Dante and the others when Kyrie and I brought you up here last night.”

A gusty sigh of relief left you, head leaning forward to plop on her shoulder again as you muttered, “Oh thank God.”

Vergil wasn’t in the Void, that alone was a huge blessing and a load off your back. The loss of memory, all the uncertainties...they could wait now, couldn’t they? To just make it out unharmed was enough of a victory to put you at ease.

But...was he alright? After all that emotional trauma, the trials, anyone could be severely messed up mentally. If the Outsider had freed Vergil, then something must have happened in that third trial to change his mind about punishment. What could have gone down? You were just hurting yourself trying to figure things out, not knowing if you had actually seen the trial at all--if your memory had been erased, it must have been something either the Outsider or Vergil didn’t want you to remember. Maybe the son of Sparda had done something truly terrible in his past that upset you? Something unforgivable. It both concerned you and released some of the ease on your half of the mystery. Maybe it hadn’t involved you at all, something super humiliating that Vergil just didn’t want you remembering.

Maybe.

You didn’t get the chance to bring anything up about it--Lady suddenly gasped, seeming to realize something and peeling herself off of you in the next instant, “Oh…!”

What had her so riled up? You blinked, watching in confusion as she kissed your cheek again, hurrying to your dresser and starting to rummage through clothes like her life depended on it. Did you miss something by chance, some sign or signal that they needed to get ready? A bit of nervousness remained, making the thought of seeing Vergil again seem...off. There was no more of that charged energy for whatever reason, but it was still going to be hard to face him after everything that happened. That kiss seemed pretty far away, more muted in intensity alongside all the other moments shared between you and the surly son of Sparda.

Oh lord. You’d have to tell the girls about that at some point.

But Lady didn’t notice your hesitation, nor the questioning looks thrown her way. There might as well have been a question mark above your head, but the older woman only held up a finger in a motion that said hold on. Well then. You instead exchanged a look with Griffon like he would somehow have the answers you sought, but were immediately startled when all three familiars blocked their thoughts out--What the hell was going on now? Shadow ignored the very loud thought pushed their way as they licked your cheek and excitedly trotted down the stairs, tail swishing back and forth. As for your favorite bird, he gave a low, ominous chortle, hopping out of your arms and to the dresser Lady was busying herself with.

What the hell was happening? And why did it feel like you were missing the punchline to a joke?

“What are you guys doing?” You asked aloud, hopping off of the bed and pressing a hand to your head when a wave of dizziness hit like a baseball bat. Ugh, coming out of the Void always made you feel gross, like your sense of balance was thrown off. Shaking the sensation off slightly, you peeked over Lady’s shoulder and asked in deep concern, “I feel like you both are scheming--what have I missed?”

And why did it involve your clothes?

Lady smirked playfully, turning to face you and shoving a few pieces of clothing in your hands, “You’ll see. Be a good girl and put these on.”

A frown marred your lips, eyes darting down to see a lacy, shoulder baring top and high-waisted shorts. Very pretty, very feminine and picked out for a reason if Lady’s careful searching was any indication of her motives. This was feeling far too theatrical for your tastes, and the reason for all of it was being very clearly hidden by your two friends. The schemers in question exchanged a quick glance, Lady winking at him before turning away to head for the stairs and ignoring your looks of bafflement.

She paused at the top, blowing you a light kiss as she purred, “If we’re going to do this, we’re going all out.”

You opened your mouth to ask just exactly what “this” was, but Lady wasn’t waiting for a reply. She quickly trotted down to the second floor, the sound of her footsteps fading away and leaving you standing there in a state of dazed confusion. What...what was going on? They all seemed pretty excited about something, despite how dire everything had been just the previous day.

You lifted the clothes Lady had deposited in your arms and gazed at them with wary eyes, not wanting to be difficult despite how strange everyone was acting. The whole state of this situation wasn’t helping your nerves, not after just convincing yourself that this was reality and not an illusion. Everyone was acting really weird, but...maybe you had just missed something big while being asleep?

You turned to level a look of annoyance of Griffon when he chuckled again, feeling a bit betrayed considering the fact that he and the others were making sure you got absolutely nothing from them. Whatever this was, they were in on it, and that so wasn’t cool.

Griffon rolled his eyes at your sour expression, tapping his claws on the dresser as he sang at you, “Don’t give me that look, toots--you should probably light a fire under that butt of yours.”

“I get sucked into the Void for a night and you guys have me playing dress up?” You replied shortly, tone clipped and very doubtful as you sat down on the edge of the bed to undo your suspenders.

“Boy, you sure are cranky today, aren’t ya?” The bird rolled his eyes, shaking out his feathers and looking a bit impatient at your slow, hesitant process of removing clothes, “Just play along.”

Wasn’t like you had any other choice, right?

Griffon pointedly looked away while you undressed, always trying to be respectful of your modesty despite literally living in your body most of the time. He didn’t respond to your annoyed question in the long run, wearing the closest thing to a smirk that an avian demon could have. That beak was sealed up tight, wasn’t it? What a traitor--you rolled your eyes at the thought, shimmying out of your clothes piece by piece and putting on a completely fresh outfit despite the grievances weighing you down. There would be not point in arguing with everyone so dead set on not explaining, so the next best thing was to simply play along and get to the answer sooner rather than later. You didn’t mind just as long as people were honest when this big secret was revealed to your eyes.

Griffon seemed satisfied that you were now complying, letting out a low chuckle and turning only when he was sure you were decent. One hop later and he was perched on your bare shoulders as always, careful not to mark up your skin with his claws. You would admit it just felt nice to be back with them, those hours in the Void seeming like a lifetime with you not knowing if they were alright. And despite Griffon’s mischief, he seemed just as pleased to be right where he wanted to be again, leaning his beak on the top of your head and settling into the familiar pattern you both shared. It was almost enough to make you forgive him for hiding this big secret from you. Almost, but not quite.

“Let’s get movin’,” He insisted impatiently, tugging on a piece of your hair as you started slowly walking down the stairs, “I ain’t got all day, and I wanna see the show god damn it…!”

Show? What show? Things were only growing more and more convoluted.

“What on Earth are you going on about?” You sighed softly, making your way through the hall and down the main steps to the foyer of the house, “What show are you waiting for exactly?”

“You’ll see.” Griffon chortled, launching off your shoulders to sail ahead of you. Down the hall, toward the kitchen and out of sight.

Well now. That was certainly ominous.

You paused in the hallway, vaguely wondering where the children were at this time of morning, and if Kyrie and Nero were okay. It must have been past eight o’clock, usually the kids would be running around and chaotic at such an hour and getting ready for the day. There was no patter of little feet, no yelling or giggling to be heard of. You took the time to peer into the living room where their camping stuff was still set up, worrying that their evening events may have been further ruined by your disappearance and the demon attack. Christ, you hoped they weren’t too scared--things like that could be damaging to kids. But it still looked like they had slept overnight in the front room, a mess that would have to be cleaned up later.

You shook your head, finally resigning yourself to the fate waiting with the others. Each step felt measured and careful, the kitchen door ajar as you approached it and wafting out the lightest aroma of tea. That was the herbal stuff you and the girls had purchased from the market, scented with the faintest hint of chamomile and honey. Familiar voices were speaking, relief filling you when you recognized the soft voices of Kyrie and Nico with Nero adding in his two cents occasionally. They sounded calm, albeit slightly riled up about something you couldn’t identify by their light chattering. Well... If they were here and awake, then maybe there wasn’t so much to worry about, right?

Swallowing your sense of confusion, you pushed through the door.

All eyes immediately turned when you entered, making you feel a bit nervous and out of place. Kyrie, Nico, Lady, Dante…and Vergil sat at the table, throwing you through a complete loop. You weren’t sure what to feel when your eyes locked with the silver haired male, taking in his normal clothes with a surreal sense of bewilderment. He was here, he was alive, and…

You felt nothing.

It felt...off, seeing him now in comparison to before. Something was different, the air no longer charged with an energy you didn’t understand. Your eyes met, but you saw a similar lack of emotion coming from him, like whatever had bound you together was now...gone. And that was worrying to you, sending a ball of anxiety to your stomach and making you hesitate in the doorway.

Did the Outsider change us?

But...I didn’t want that, didn’t want to lose the part of Vergil that I cared about.

Is this what Vergil wanted, to not have to worry about our feelings anymore?

The man in question seemed to be sipping a cup of tea, donning a simple blue button up and black slacks instead of his fancy coat and vest. It looked strangely domestic, and there was definitely something different about him in comparison to before. He looked...tired, eyes meeting yours for that second and lacking the usual hardness he once showed you. No longer cold, just very heavy and...guilty? He didn’t look away, but didn’t show any indication of feeling for you what was shown in the Void and through those trials.

Christ. What the hell was going on?

“Y/N…!” Kyrie exclaimed in relief, standing so she could quickly walk around the table and hug you close. Her embrace was always so warm, so comforting and definitely needed in the moment of uncertainty you were experiencing. Nico came next, hugging you tightly and squeezing until you felt the need to wheeze at such an exuberant display of affection.

“You sure had us worried, sugar,” Nico huffed, leaning back and pinching one of your cheeks between her fingers, “How are ya feelin’ this mornin’?”

Well now. That was a very good question, wasn’t it? Confused, disoriented, uncertain ...but otherwise fine. There was no word that summed that all up in one fell swoop other than...strange.

You paused, looking around the kitchen for Griffon and Shadow only to find that they were absent as well. Where had the familiars gone now? Still no sign of the children either, something that was slowly beginning to worry you considering all that had happened in the night.

You let out a slow breath, trying to gather your racing thoughts together before replying, “I’m...I’m fine, just a bit disoriented is all,” Understatement of the century, but there were questions that needed answers, “Where are the kids? Are they okay?” You paused, looking between the two women to the spiky-haired male that went through the whole ordeal all the same, “Are you okay?”

Vergil paused in sipping his cup of tea, icy blue eyes meeting yours again with that same guilt you saw before, but...a lot more calm. He in general seemed a lot less tense, that rude temper he seemed to pride himself on dulled to the point that it was no longer present. Was that...normal? Had the Outsider done something to him too, maybe changed his memories or his mood? But if he meant to punish Vergil, why the hell would such a thing be done in the first place?

It didn’t make sense.

The son of Sparda hesitated before replying to you, exchanging a short, knowing look with Dante as he sipped that tea.

“I am fine,” He finally spoke, tone low and unreadable as he closed his eyes and savored the flavor of his beverage like it was one of the most calming thing he had tasted, “You should focus on yourself, Y/N.”

You frowned at his response, feeling a tad uneasy with how simple and calm things felt. That familiarity you once shared with him, that deep need and affection...where had it all gone? It was all very strange, your body whispering of things long passed, and things that would never come again.

All of it felt very...final. Like the closing of a book, the pages able to rest after years of being plucked with no end.

Kyrie grasped one of your hands to gain your attention, her brown eyes soft and kind when you turned to look at her, “Trish took the kids out to the bakery for breakfast--they were a little nervous about the demon attack last night, but Trish and Lady helped calm them down and keep the distractions going until they went to bed in their tent.”

Thank the Void for that at least. You released a light sigh, putting a hand to your chest and willing your heart to slow down just a tad. The children had still camped out in the living room, and they didn’t see any of the bullshit that went down when you were snatched away. This was for the best, you would hate for them to be traumatized by the day’s events after losing out on the festival and having their camp out disturbed. One worry checked off the list, now about a million more to tend to.

But there was no chance of asking any more questions.

Dante smirked over the rim of what looked to be a cup of coffee, one loaded with cream and sugar as he took a loud sip, “Your little birdie and kitty cat are out the beach--you should go out and say hi.”

Everyone took on a strange look of anticipation at his words, minus you and Vergil. The expression on your face was somewhere between wariness and confusion, whereas the son of Sparda looked calm and content in ignoring the whole situation and enjoying his tea. Just what the fuck was going on, and why were they all looking at you like there was a big secret to tell? It made you very nervous indeed, blinking as you met Kyrie’s eyes and felt her squeeze your hand encouragingly. There was something in her smile, something that made your heart start pounding faster and faster until you were sure it was trying to burst from your chest.

Why...why am I feeling this?

Vergil is right there, isn’t he?

So why is my heart aching so much?

Your mind refused, it was trying to protect you from anything it might try and conjure up as the source of all this madness. What could cause them to all look like that? What could be waiting for you outside that would require so much secrecy? There was only one thing you wanted, craved, needed more than anything. And he...he was gone, he couldn’t exist while Vergil was still here, living and whole. You were supposed to try for him, right? You were supposed to help him through his trauma and let him embrace V after years of suppressing his humanity.

But...your soul was starting to ache, to tremble. Not for you to stay with Vergil, but to walk out the back door and onto the beaches of Fortuna.

That can’t be right...can it?

Nero was watching you from the table, taking in the changes of your expression and probably reading the nervousness and hesitation there. You met his gaze briefly, seeing a steadiness there that you wished could be shared through the rising torrent of emotion trying to rise in your head.

“Come on, kid,” He said after a few moments of silence, grunting as he stood up from the table and holding out a hand for you to take, “I’ll come with--trust me, this is definitely not something you wanna wait on.”

Nero knew you well, knew what happened in the Qliphoth tree and saw you at your most vulnerable. There was a level of trust shared that had not been broken, but...Why were you so anxious? Where was this uncertainty coming from? You didn’t know what was waiting for you out there, but...there was a ball of anticipation and worry curling in your stomach, heavy and showing no signs of leaving.

This is reality, isn’t it? There’s no chance, there’s--

You swallowed, hesitantly taking Nero’s hand with unsteady fingers. For whatever reason, you could feel Vergil’s eyes watching as this happened, seeing only a glimpse of his expression out of your peripheral view. What was that look that flashed in his eyes, something like...remorse? But that couldn’t be right, could it? You didn’t get to focus on it long, Nero tugging you around the table and heading toward the door. Everyone was staring now, Nico and Kyrie smiling goofily and inching their way behind you as Nero clicked the door open, allowing a rush of warm, morning air to gust into the kitchen and curl around your form.

You paused in the doorway, feeling Nero’s fingers squeeze yours encouragingly as he stopped to look back at your conflicted face. The boy certainly looked wise beyond his years in that moment, the sun making his white hair glow as it swayed in the breeze and eyes steady and encouraging. He was your best friend, a brother in so many ways after all he had done to help you bounce back from the terrible events in the Qliphoth.

You had laughed with him, cried with him, and went on so many missions to both fight demons and improve Fortuna. Kyrie, Nero, Nico, Lady, Trish, all the kids...they were so very precious to you, filling up the void V had left behind and not faltering once despite not owing you anything in the first place. Dante too, and then Vergil...all these people formed pieces of your lives, and they should have been enough.

They were everything. Everything you wanted, needed, and adored.

Why should you want more? Why was your heart throbbing in your chest, pushing you to look out at the sand, searching for the one thing you knew shouldn’t be there?

Nero gave you a crooked half smile, coaxing you forward with a little push to your lower back. You tried to keep your steps steady, eyes down on the sand and watching the way your toes sank into it, glistening warmly in the morning sun. Why couldn’t you bring yourself to look up? Why couldn’t you look out across the beach for the familiar shapes of Griffon and Shadow? You were no coward, not a fool and certainly not the type to hope for silly, impossible things. But there was a rising sense of energy in the air, one you recognized all too well. That drawl, the way your chest ached...swallow your fear, lift your head.

You’ve come this far, haven’t you?

The worst case scenario is nothing will be there.

But somehow...that seems like more than I can take.

You breathed out a slow, shaking breath when Nero paused in front of you, releasing your fingers despite how desperately you wanted to hang on. Lifeline gone, eyes still down on the floor despite how much every part of you was screaming for the chance to look up. The silence was so...peaceful, usually calming but not so much with how frayed your nerves had become. The rolling waves, the summer breeze, and the sensation of being watched from all sides. Every person in the kitchen was more than likely watching out the window at you, eager to see your reaction to whatever awaited. It was incredibly nerve wracking, your heart thudding away very quickly and lungs feeling like they were aching in your chest.

Look up.

Please, look up.

There was a sound on the beach in front of you, like someone was pulling themselves off of the sand. For a moment, you thought it was Shadow, hearing the padding of their paws as they settled around your feet. Black, shiny fur, red eyes. Now in your line of view, purring away as a means to try and comfort its host in such an obvious state of worry--but it wasn’t the mighty cat that was heard. A rustle of fabric, breath sucked between lips as someone stood mere feet away from you, their eyes locked on your face. And yet...you still couldn’t bring yourself to look up, the wind sending your hair waving in the breeze as a moment of silence passed uninterrupted by any of the people standing there.

Afraid. You were afraid everything around you wasn’t real, that when you looked up nothing would be here. Back in the Void, an illusion. Or maybe that it would be something else, not what you were hoping for more than anything in that moment. Things rarely worked out so easily, did they? Not for someone like you, born to taste the fruits of happiness but never be able to keep them. Things that were too good to be true generally always were, so how could you even begin to hope for what you wanted, what you craved more than anything? The thought of it alone made you want to cry, to wail and weep like you had all those months ago in the Qliphoth tree. Everything had come so far, the recovery process hard and filled with turmoil.

It never stopped the desire, it never stopped the loneliness and longing.

Your fingers started to tremble when footsteps approached you slowly from the front, muffled and soft in the sand. Like whoever it was walked barefoot. Even then, you didn’t look up, heart pounding like fists on steel walls, sobbing and begging to see who it was, to embrace it. Shadow leaned their weight on your legs, the only proof of reality you could ground yourself in with the storm of emotion raging in your heart. They were solid, warm, fur soft as it brushed your bare skin and rumbling with a purr. Those red eyes lifted toward the newcomer when they stopped in front of you, feet away and still silent despite your terse refusal to look up yourself. You couldn’t even see their feet, but the presence was undeniably familiar.

That energy, that sensation of being so close to home with it just out of reach.

You know who that is, don’t you?

Why not take the chance?

After everything that has happened...we can afford to be disappointed.

Nero took a few steps back, like he was passing you off to the person standing silently in wait. It felt...strange. He briefly put a hand on your shoulder as a sign of support, a light squeeze that was enough to remind you that someone always had your back. Whether it be him or the others, if you felt like falling there would always be people there to catch you. Good things had happened, didn’t they? A family, a home, a purpose...all things you never thought would come, but they had. You managed to lift yourself up, their hands supported you until each foot could move on its own. And now it felt like the impossible could become real, that you could somehow get everything you had hoped for.

But your mind still didn’t want to risk hurting you. Even when the silence was finally broken, when the person before you sucked in a soft breath, releasing it slowly before they spoke in a voice all too familiar. Like melted honey, soft and melodic. One that made your heart go into overdrive, so many emotions and feelings flooding inside that you felt like you might collapse, knees weakening and head feeling a bit dizzy. Mind over reality, hopes and dreams battling with the acceptance of that you thought was set in stone.

But this was reality, wasn’t it?

“He who binds to himself a joy, does the winged life destroy,” His voice was gentle, sounding just as hesitant and aching as you. Like he was putting a thousand apologies into those words, a million emotions that echoed yours in kind, “But he who kisses the joy as it flies, lives in eternity’s sunrise.”

It can’t--

It can’t be him--

That wasn’t possible, was it?

You were on the verge of collapse, tears burning in your eyes as the torrent of emotions threatened to rise. God, how long had it been since you heard his voice? Months, so many months of missing and craving that warm tone, of hearing him whisper and recite those same poems that you had read in the book Nero kept in the kitchen. V’s book, the one he left behind. Hearing it now was like being hit by a truck, threatening to make you fall to your knees and weep for all you had lost, for how much you wanted it back. Please--Please please please. Let this be real, let this not be a dream or an illusion.

I can’t take disappointment again.

You were starting to breath heavily, one hand raising to grip at the lacy blouse above your heart and clench around the fabric. What were you supposed to say? To feel? How could you begin to accept this as real?

How could you possibly get to feel this love again, after waiting for so long?

“Why do you hide your eyes from me, Sparrow?” His voice whispered softly when your silence persisted, aching like he wanted to reach over the distance and touch you. Waiting, not wanting to move too fast, not wanting to push it, “Won’t you look at me? Are you angry?”

This hurts. This is too much.

I want--

You swallowed down a sob, shoulders shaking delicately with the force of your restrained emotions as you whispered hollowly in response, “B...because...I’m afraid that when I look up, none of this will be real. I...I don’t want any more illusions.”

Not anymore.

You can’t exist while Vergil does, can you?

He paused again, a shaken breath leaving his lungs at your soft, trembling words. He knew just as well what happened in the Void as you, having seen it from Vergil’s eyes. Each trial, each seemingly real image of other places and other times...surely making him seem there could be child’s play, as unrealistic as it would be for the Outsider to do that to you. But maybe all of this wasn’t real, an illusion created by the Void to put you at ease? It didn’t feel that way, it felt achingly warm and real, solid and lacking the instability those illusions had. No Void whispers, no occasional flicker of cold. Just the sun, the beaches, and…

I’m scared. I’m want you so badly, and I’m afraid that you’re not really here.

You had been hurt far too much the way it was, that was common enough knowledge. He knew that.

It was why he crossed the space between you both, slipping his warm fingers over your cheeks to hold them with a gentleness you recognized and ached for. His touch was like a jolt of electricity, making you gasp and those tears finally drip from your eyes, no longer held back like all the conflicted emotions. Solid, solid--that feels so real, so god damn real. It was like a breath of air after months of drowning, sending your heart racing and sobbing in absolute relief. More than that kiss with Vergil had been, more than anything you’d ever experienced. It was what finally made you knees give out, all of the emotions too much for you to handle and sending you to your knees like you were in prayer.

Or it would have. He caught you with those familiar arms, holding you up and against his chest as the first sob broke from your lips. His embrace was so warm, one hand holding you up while the other tilted up your chin, letting your eyes see him truly for the first time--and what a sight he was, illuminated by the rays of the sun, white hair drifting in the breeze and jade gaze staring into yours with so many apologies, so much emotion and adoration it made your heart break in two. There were tears in his eyes, glistening on his white lashes in the morning sun like diamonds.

Real--he is real, he is here. You could hardly fathom what you were seeing, taking him in through the tears in your eyes like he was the sun itself.

So many months spent imagining him, so many nights dreaming of what he looked like and if you would ever see that beautiful face again. This was everything--he was everything, and your imagination could never truly capture him. Your hands lifted on their own, tracing the soft lines of his lips, up his high cheekbones and through his soft hair. Real real real. Alive. You were feeling him, he was here--and that was enough to send your head spinning, eyes dropping more and more tears for him to brush away with his beautiful fingers. Illusion or not, real or not...this was everything. A balm on your wounded soul, like coming home after months of wandering lost. The last piece of your life’s puzzle falling into place.

He was back. You didn’t know how, but V was back and alive.

“Oh darling…” V breathed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead while sobs continued to leave your lips. He then kissed your cheeks, your hair, murmuring softly and sorrowfully, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, not after how many times I have made you cry...I am sorry for everything that I have done, every lie that I told you, I…”

He was apologizing over and over, kiss after kiss grazing parts of your face and even sweeter than the last. You didn’t care, you didn’t care--All of the anger, the heartbreak, the betrayal you felt while processing the loss of the one you loved most...none of that seemed to matter anymore. You launched yourself at the poet, causing him to release a startled grunt as you knocked him back onto the sand with your arms around his neck. Griffon and Nero snickered at your exuberant display of affection, watching in amusement at V’s flustered expression. Making him blush was something you never thought would happen again, but it did when you pressed your lips to his, hands buried in his silken hair like he had never been gone at all.

You didn’t care who saw, either. All the eyes from the house were watching, but Christ you could never care.

It came with belated realization that V was no longer wearing his vest and slacks from the day he left. When you leaned back from kissing him, you realized he was in a baggy, black v-neck and jeans that both looked like they didn’t fit him very well. No more tattoos, but that made sense considering that they were on your body now--he looked healthy, a far cry from the cracking man in the Qliphoth tree. His jade eyes were bright when they met yours, lips tilted in that familiar smirk and skin glowing in the sun. Still skinny, but with steady meals and care he could probably start feeling a lot better. The idea of getting to do that with him, getting to live with him…

It made you positively lightheaded.

“How?” You breathed, putting a hand to his cheek and feeling giddy when he nuzzled into your palm, “I don’t understand--Vergil is still here, still whole. How can this be real?”

V let out a low hum, sitting up and kissing your fingers with gentle lips, “A gift from the Outsider...He was angry at Vergil for the things he had done, but…” His eyes went dark for a moment at mention of the Void’s events, but it disappeared as he added, “A man named Corvo stepped in to calm him down, and they both decided it would be best to separate me from Vergil and allow him to keep his humanity anew.”

Corvo had been there? You blinked in surprise, feeling a bit disappointed that there was no chance to say hello. You hadn’t seen him in ages, always off on missions when he visited or sleeping in the Void. The fact that he had to calm down the Outsider was surprising to you--the God had never seemed easily emotional, so hearing that he was angry was...strange. Everything was now. After all the mixed feelings you had for the man you considered a father, he had still come through in the end and brought V back, fixed everything. And that…that was more than you could hope for.

I’ll have to make a shrine at some point...talking to him about what happened might be best.

You shook your head to clear the thoughts, pressing a hand to his chest and feeling his heart thudding at a steady pace. Warm, alive.

“So...so no more crumbling…?” You murmured hesitantly, threading your fingers with his when he grasped with his own, “You...you’re not a part of Vergil anymore…?”

V smiled softly, white hair drifting over his lovely jade eyes as he confirmed, “No more crumbling--I share Vergil’s memories, but I am my own person now. Whole, with new memories to make and a life to live outside of him.”

Free.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck again, feeling his warm chuckle right by your ear as absolute relief and joy threatened to spill forth. No more lies, no more barriers, no more hesitations--V was himself, and yours to hold and love without worry. That was why the energy between you and Vergil seemed gone, why the surly man seemed indifferent now. The part of him that was in love with you was now free, separate to do what he wished and make his own life. And what better outcome could you ask for other than this? All your worries about the third trial missing from your memory, all the uncertainties and worries that had once been so loud...they were quiet now, buried under layers of overwhelming joy.

You kissed V again like he was the air your breathed, a soft sound of contentment brushing against his lips. There were several months apart to make up for, and things were starting to get carried away.

How could you help it?

Griffon let out a heavy, impatient sigh from behind you both, the sound of flapping wings coming next as he landed on the sand, “Alright kids, gettin’ too cozy for our liking. Are you forgettin’ you have an audience?”

You and V both blinked, looking up and behind to see Nero was no longer standing there by himself. Kyrie, Nico, and Lady were now with him, grinning as they watched embarrassment flash across your expressions. Dante and Vergil were now out on the deck, both still holding their cups and watching all of this go down as well. Dante smirking in amusement, Vergil looking impassive and blank.

Did he willingly give up his human half for you, so V could be reborn again? At some point you might have been a bit wistful about that, wondering why Vergil just didn’t try to pick up where V left off, but it hardly mattered. There was no connection left for him, but you did hope to be his friend at the very least, or to thank him for what was done.

Regardless, you smiled at the bemused group, rising to your feet and helping V up. This all felt so surreal, but you were riding on a wave of so many good energies that there was no room left to care.

Kyrie looked ready to bounce in place, hands clasped together in front of her chest and beaming with happiness, “We should have a celebration today--no better way to mark a joyous occasion, and It’ll make the children happy…!”

You nodded at that, feeling V come up behind you and wrap both of his arms around your waist. It was definitely odd--you he had ever been to a party before, and especially not one marking his return. Hell, this could be his birthday if they wanted it to--and judging by the looks everyone wore the idea of having a celebration was exactly what everyone needed.

Nero put an arm around Kyrie’s waist, pressing a light kiss to her brow as he replied, “Sounds good to me--just as long as we never let Dante near a grill again.”

“I heard that!” The man in question called from the deck, but he was still smirking as he lifted the coffee cup to his lips.

You had no idea what Dante did to earn a ban status on the grill, but it was not the priority at that moment. Nico and Lady started tugging you both toward the house, Griffon landing on V’s shoulders this time and complaining at him about what a dumbass he had been, and about how they would be forced to have joint custody over the familiars because “there was no way in hell he wanted to lose out on the cool Void powers”. Shadow weaved between everyone’s legs, tail swishing excitedly and red eyes bright with interest as they all started making their way back in. You couldn’t blame them for being so energetic--things had gone from absolute madness and chaos to the best outcome you could hope for overnight.

V’s fingers entwined with yours while walking, determined not to let go after so long of not being able to have you. A lifeline, one that you never thought you’d have again. No more worrying about him falling apart, or about hidden secrets. There was so much room to grow even closer, no more secrets left to hide and everything laid bare. And you could tell he had realized the same, his jade eyes soft and deep when you glanced back at his lovely face. There was a hint of nervousness there with so much attention on him, especially with Nico and Lady making sure to lecture him on what happened.

But...your poet looked happy. There was an ease to him no, lacking in the driven, haunting looks he had in the Qliphoth tree. Peaceful--there were no more burdens to bear, no more sacrifices to make. Just time to heal, to grow better and start a new life.

And for once, after years and years of fighting and struggling...the fruits of happiness were yours to take. No more reminders of pain, no more sleeping in the Void. It finally felt like you were home, surrounded by smiling family with V’s hand back in yours. The kids would come home from the bakery to a new member of the household, but somehow you had the feeling that V would be good with kids. To move on from Vergil’s memories wouldn’t be easy, but you knew he could handle it with everyone here to help.

And Vergil...he was free of V, and of you. Something that might have been bittersweet, but he seemed content. Sipping his tea, quipping back at his son when he made a snide remark about his cooking too. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, lacking the bite he had before and seemingly trying to talk to Nero, to get along and learn about his son. The trials really seemed to change his mind about things, which might have been for the best.

You were happy. Content. And at the end of the day, that was all you ever wanted.

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