( Vergil offers him an apology and he doesn't know how to take it. This conversation — these memories... they pull out various things he's buried deep, deep, deep within him and has refused to revisit around another living person. It wouldn't do any good, he's told himself. What's done is done. The past can't be changed. No matter how many times he wishes it could. So he tries to keep it in. Tries to push it all back down to where he normally does beneath every heartache, every moment of guilt and failure he's ever felt in his life.
And then, it comes out. Spilling from him in an eruption of fiery sorrow. )
It was supposed to be you and me. I would have fought with you. I would have helped you take down that bastard and what he did to mom. To us. That's how it was supposed to be. You and me. Together. Not me having to put you down. Not me having to be the only one left to chase. You and me.
( He feels like he's a kid again. Swinging his wooden sword around and yelling at his brother for how unfair it is that he won't play with him. Trying to list all the reasons why he should and hoping that one of them might get through to him. It's selfish of him to do. Selfish of him to say. But he does. Just like back then. In his upset.
There's a sudden spike in demonic energy from him then and he thumps that fist at Vergil's chest again, a little harder than the last time, grinding his teeth against each other as eyes flash with red and fire. It takes everything within him to reel back the anger he can feel running through his veins — making the air around them grow hot with the familiar threat of his demonic skin to spill over human flesh and take control in the moment.
The devil within him snarls at its twin beneath flesh and bone but... he relents. The fire dims. Doesn't give in. Hangs his head there with that fist pressing firm against Vergil's chest, and then he trembles some. Not out of anger, not out of fear that Vergil might pull away, but out of an uncontrollable sadness that still sits there deep within him, like his devil. One he can taste with the blood on his tongue. When he speaks, it's after he takes a second to swallow — after he crumples forward and presses himself against his brother. )
I would have given anything to have you back with me.
( Almost. To follow in his big brother's footsteps... he couldn't. He knows he couldn't. No matter how much some part of him wanted to. No matter how much he missed him. No matter how he loved him. He couldn't walk the path Vergil had chosen.
Shoulders slumping, fingers go limp and unfurl from the fist he'd so tightly held. )
Please don't leave again. I'm right here. I've always been right here, Vergil.
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And then, it comes out. Spilling from him in an eruption of fiery sorrow. )
It was supposed to be you and me. I would have fought with you. I would have helped you take down that bastard and what he did to mom. To us. That's how it was supposed to be. You and me. Together. Not me having to put you down. Not me having to be the only one left to chase. You and me.
( He feels like he's a kid again. Swinging his wooden sword around and yelling at his brother for how unfair it is that he won't play with him. Trying to list all the reasons why he should and hoping that one of them might get through to him. It's selfish of him to do. Selfish of him to say. But he does. Just like back then. In his upset.
There's a sudden spike in demonic energy from him then and he thumps that fist at Vergil's chest again, a little harder than the last time, grinding his teeth against each other as eyes flash with red and fire. It takes everything within him to reel back the anger he can feel running through his veins — making the air around them grow hot with the familiar threat of his demonic skin to spill over human flesh and take control in the moment.
The devil within him snarls at its twin beneath flesh and bone but... he relents. The fire dims. Doesn't give in. Hangs his head there with that fist pressing firm against Vergil's chest, and then he trembles some. Not out of anger, not out of fear that Vergil might pull away, but out of an uncontrollable sadness that still sits there deep within him, like his devil. One he can taste with the blood on his tongue. When he speaks, it's after he takes a second to swallow — after he crumples forward and presses himself against his brother. )
I would have given anything to have you back with me.
( Almost. To follow in his big brother's footsteps... he couldn't. He knows he couldn't. No matter how much some part of him wanted to. No matter how much he missed him. No matter how he loved him. He couldn't walk the path Vergil had chosen.
Shoulders slumping, fingers go limp and unfurl from the fist he'd so tightly held. )
Please don't leave again. I'm right here. I've always been right here, Vergil.
( With his hand out for him to take. )