[Vergil says nothing right away, contemplative as he stabs a piece of meat that managed to flee from its layer and pushing it in some of the sauce on his plate idly. He had been here for nine months beginning to work towards ten on his own before Dante arrived. It wasn't as though Vergil somehow didn't miss his brother in that time, and he certainly wished Dante would be one of those bright lights falling from the heavens rather than toiling away in the Underworld still, but... Well, it was a bit like how accustomed Dante became with his devil hunting. Vergil had gotten accustomed to being on his own. He didn't miss Dante every waking minute of every day because his absence felt normal. Expected.]
[So, in truth, it's been more disquieting for Vergil to have his brother around than not. Which Vergil feels immense guilt over admitting even privately just to himself, but it's the truth. He knows more of how to be a father to Nero than he knows to be a brother to Dante. He has the example of Sparda before him and while not a perfectly clean slate, it's at least not a long of a history as what lies between brothers to give him a starting point with Nero. He has no such equivalent with Dante. Only how they were as children, which Vergil struggles to find applicable considering neither of them are the children they used to be.]
[And maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why Vergil struggles so much in knowing how to be Dante's brother again. Dante isn't the snot-nosed little brat who could always make Vergil laugh despite his hot, angry tears and self-serious temperament. He isn't that kid who never seemed to worry about consequences, chasing after what was fun without a care in the world. For all the accusations Vergil gives Dante about being immature, he grew up. He changed. Vergil did, too. And yet, they still so often try to treat each other like those little boys that used to beat each other bloody, but would have done anything for his twin. As though no time at all had passed.]
[Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. They get stuck when it doesn't, and both seem to lack ideas of how to recover from it. Vergil can't and won't speak for Dante, but he knows he walks away from it disheartened when that happens. Even when it feels earned because of the choices Vergil made or Vergil can recognize Dante isn't the child he used to be and someone he still has so much work to do in getting to know again...]
[Dante tells Vergil time and time again not to worry and claims to have it all under control, and probably thinks he's doing Vergil a kindness in doing as much. In his mind, he likely thinks that he's somehow freeing Vergil up from worry and responsibilities that could somehow distract from what he needs or wants. But the reality is that Vergl feels brushed aside. And that's the rub. Dante says he needs Vergil, wants him around, but it feels like every time there's that possibility to be let in? Dante pushes back. Not usually in any sort of anger, and certainly not with hostility even when Vergil does push a button, but... He pushes back all the same, and Vergil finds himself at a loss with what to do. Sometimes he gets in his head, wondering if he did something wrong. Other times, he stews in a mild amount of frustration of wanting Dante to let him be his big brother again in ways that matter and count to them now and not the past.]
[A question rests at the tip of his tongue, but Vergil recognizes it as selfish, which means it has a greater capacity to be hurtful. So, he doesn't ask Dante if he has any regrets about following him into the Underworld, into Folkmore. Looking for such reassurance seems childish anyways, and what sort of foolish question is that in the first place? Of course Dante would have regrets. Maybe not enough to make him choose other than as he did, but there were things about home he must miss beyond his work.]
You would have enjoyed aspects of the false reality the Fox attempted to deceive me with then.
[Eva never died, brothers were never separated, and Nero grew up with his parents, his family. Sparda was still gone within the illusion, but maybe the Fox felt it would have been too obvious a lie to have given Vergil that much. It perhaps would have seemed too ideal to be tempted by it in that circumstance, but Eva's mere presence was ultimately enough for Vergil to mistrust it.]
I suspect because both of you are here in Folkmore that you and Nero were away in the illusion, but from all that I could observe before Mizu and I were able to leave, we had never been separated from one another. [He sets his fork down, the piece of meat ultimately untouched.] She seemed to believe such ideals could lead me astray if left to implication, but I have the both of you here now and that will not change even once we leave this place.
I have little need for a pretty lie in comparison.
[He glances at Dante then, drawing a breath and releasing it.]
Although I will not pretend I felt nothing upon seeing her again.
[He doesn't bother clarifying that it was their mother. He trusts Dante can put that together for himself.]
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[So, in truth, it's been more disquieting for Vergil to have his brother around than not. Which Vergil feels immense guilt over admitting even privately just to himself, but it's the truth. He knows more of how to be a father to Nero than he knows to be a brother to Dante. He has the example of Sparda before him and while not a perfectly clean slate, it's at least not a long of a history as what lies between brothers to give him a starting point with Nero. He has no such equivalent with Dante. Only how they were as children, which Vergil struggles to find applicable considering neither of them are the children they used to be.]
[And maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why Vergil struggles so much in knowing how to be Dante's brother again. Dante isn't the snot-nosed little brat who could always make Vergil laugh despite his hot, angry tears and self-serious temperament. He isn't that kid who never seemed to worry about consequences, chasing after what was fun without a care in the world. For all the accusations Vergil gives Dante about being immature, he grew up. He changed. Vergil did, too. And yet, they still so often try to treat each other like those little boys that used to beat each other bloody, but would have done anything for his twin. As though no time at all had passed.]
[Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. They get stuck when it doesn't, and both seem to lack ideas of how to recover from it. Vergil can't and won't speak for Dante, but he knows he walks away from it disheartened when that happens. Even when it feels earned because of the choices Vergil made or Vergil can recognize Dante isn't the child he used to be and someone he still has so much work to do in getting to know again...]
[Dante tells Vergil time and time again not to worry and claims to have it all under control, and probably thinks he's doing Vergil a kindness in doing as much. In his mind, he likely thinks that he's somehow freeing Vergil up from worry and responsibilities that could somehow distract from what he needs or wants. But the reality is that Vergl feels brushed aside. And that's the rub. Dante says he needs Vergil, wants him around, but it feels like every time there's that possibility to be let in? Dante pushes back. Not usually in any sort of anger, and certainly not with hostility even when Vergil does push a button, but... He pushes back all the same, and Vergil finds himself at a loss with what to do. Sometimes he gets in his head, wondering if he did something wrong. Other times, he stews in a mild amount of frustration of wanting Dante to let him be his big brother again in ways that matter and count to them now and not the past.]
[A question rests at the tip of his tongue, but Vergil recognizes it as selfish, which means it has a greater capacity to be hurtful. So, he doesn't ask Dante if he has any regrets about following him into the Underworld, into Folkmore. Looking for such reassurance seems childish anyways, and what sort of foolish question is that in the first place? Of course Dante would have regrets. Maybe not enough to make him choose other than as he did, but there were things about home he must miss beyond his work.]
You would have enjoyed aspects of the false reality the Fox attempted to deceive me with then.
[Eva never died, brothers were never separated, and Nero grew up with his parents, his family. Sparda was still gone within the illusion, but maybe the Fox felt it would have been too obvious a lie to have given Vergil that much. It perhaps would have seemed too ideal to be tempted by it in that circumstance, but Eva's mere presence was ultimately enough for Vergil to mistrust it.]
I suspect because both of you are here in Folkmore that you and Nero were away in the illusion, but from all that I could observe before Mizu and I were able to leave, we had never been separated from one another. [He sets his fork down, the piece of meat ultimately untouched.] She seemed to believe such ideals could lead me astray if left to implication, but I have the both of you here now and that will not change even once we leave this place.
I have little need for a pretty lie in comparison.
[He glances at Dante then, drawing a breath and releasing it.]
Although I will not pretend I felt nothing upon seeing her again.
[He doesn't bother clarifying that it was their mother. He trusts Dante can put that together for himself.]