[As it all spills from Dante, Vergil's hands fall away from Dante. The hand at Dante's fist darts away quickly, almost as though he touched something scalding hot. The hand at his shoulder is slower to fall, but it rests just as uselessly at Vergil's side as the other. As Dante continues on, Vergil looks beyond his brother, past his shoulder and to his pillows and headboard. Demonic energy from Dante spikes and the heat of it radiates off him in waves at that barely contained anger, but all Vergil can feel is a sudden chill, a coldness that runs deeper than just his blood but down to the very marrow of his bones. Vergil sways slightly as there's a harder thump at his chest, and although he expects and waits for more, for worse to follow, he does not brace himself. Because there it is, he thinks. There is that anger and that resentment Vergil long since stoked after burning out whatever else there was, and he knows if he braces himself for it, he will respond in kind, and Vergil does not know what that will ultimately result in or amount to beyond that it will be everything he did not intend. And maybe that will fix it in its own way. Maybe if Dante can release that anger into Vergil, no longer bottling it up or drowning it with liquor bottle after liquor bottle, he might start to heal. With or without Vergil, he just might.]
[He starts a little when Dante presses against him, flinching as though it were a sudden strike despite it being nothing of the sort. Bringing his eyes back into focus, Vergil looks down at his little brother. His tired, sad, lonely, scared little brother. The numbness has not fully left Vergil, but he's cognizant of how heavy Dante feels against him now as he goes limp. He forces himself to remain upright, and subsequently keep Dante the same, but he feels frozen to the spot where he sits. Somehow, Vergil's hands find their way to Dante's upper arms, squeezing them tighter than he necessarily means to hold onto them.]
[Part of him, he would be ashamed to admit, wants to push Dante away. It is not the child that always resented and attempted to shirk his responsibilities to his brother that wants to do it, however. It's a part ruled by guilt and shame, not anger and resentment. Vergil was supposed to take care of Dante. He was supposed to look after him, and keep him out of trouble. He was supposed to protect him from harm both real and imaginary. And yet, he's only ever really managed to do the opposite. It is one thing, Vergil finds, to recognize his shortcomings and failures as a brother. He is not unaware that he has failed Dante time and time again, and that it was always his decision to run from his brother from they were children until they found one another at the cusp of their adulthood. It was still his decision as V to lie and obfuscate the truth to his brother when asking for help because he was too afraid of what Dante might do if he knew with no exclusivity to the worst outcome in that scenario. It is another to feel them made manifest like this. To feel what happens when someone loves him so fiercely that they've dashed themselves upon the rocks again and again and again in what some might consider a fit of madness in believing that something different might happen. If perhaps just this time...]
[There is no explanation that will ever seem reasonable for his decisions. That much remains true. But Vergil realizes now the reason he didn't provide one isn't just because he was afraid of inciting his brother's anger in making it worse. No, he was perhaps more afraid of Dante's empathy. That even as it killed him to know that Vergil deluded himself into thinking he was choosing power above all else to protect himself when in reality it was simply because he was so goddamn afraid... That Dante could offer any semblance of understanding or forgiveness anywhere amid whatever else it might spark in Dante would certainly be his undoing.]
You've always been such a crybaby...
[Vergil's voice is soft and gentle, not at all truly chiding Dante or even dismissing his feelings here and now. If anything, it's the exact opposite as Vergil comes to wrap his arms around Dante just as before with one hand at his back and the other cradling his head.]
[There is nothing Vergil can do about the past. No explanation makes it reasonable. No apology undoes the harm he's inflicted. The regrets he holds over his decisions are simply ones that he will have to carry with him until his dying breath just as Dante has learned to walk with the wounds and scars he carries. The only thing he can do, the only thing they can do now is stay on this path together now that they're on it with one another again.]
[So, it is more seriously that he promises,]
I'm not going anywhere, Dante. I'm done running away. My place is with you.
cw: allusion to alcoholism
[He starts a little when Dante presses against him, flinching as though it were a sudden strike despite it being nothing of the sort. Bringing his eyes back into focus, Vergil looks down at his little brother. His tired, sad, lonely, scared little brother. The numbness has not fully left Vergil, but he's cognizant of how heavy Dante feels against him now as he goes limp. He forces himself to remain upright, and subsequently keep Dante the same, but he feels frozen to the spot where he sits. Somehow, Vergil's hands find their way to Dante's upper arms, squeezing them tighter than he necessarily means to hold onto them.]
[Part of him, he would be ashamed to admit, wants to push Dante away. It is not the child that always resented and attempted to shirk his responsibilities to his brother that wants to do it, however. It's a part ruled by guilt and shame, not anger and resentment. Vergil was supposed to take care of Dante. He was supposed to look after him, and keep him out of trouble. He was supposed to protect him from harm both real and imaginary. And yet, he's only ever really managed to do the opposite. It is one thing, Vergil finds, to recognize his shortcomings and failures as a brother. He is not unaware that he has failed Dante time and time again, and that it was always his decision to run from his brother from they were children until they found one another at the cusp of their adulthood. It was still his decision as V to lie and obfuscate the truth to his brother when asking for help because he was too afraid of what Dante might do if he knew with no exclusivity to the worst outcome in that scenario. It is another to feel them made manifest like this. To feel what happens when someone loves him so fiercely that they've dashed themselves upon the rocks again and again and again in what some might consider a fit of madness in believing that something different might happen. If perhaps just this time...]
[There is no explanation that will ever seem reasonable for his decisions. That much remains true. But Vergil realizes now the reason he didn't provide one isn't just because he was afraid of inciting his brother's anger in making it worse. No, he was perhaps more afraid of Dante's empathy. That even as it killed him to know that Vergil deluded himself into thinking he was choosing power above all else to protect himself when in reality it was simply because he was so goddamn afraid... That Dante could offer any semblance of understanding or forgiveness anywhere amid whatever else it might spark in Dante would certainly be his undoing.]
You've always been such a crybaby...
[Vergil's voice is soft and gentle, not at all truly chiding Dante or even dismissing his feelings here and now. If anything, it's the exact opposite as Vergil comes to wrap his arms around Dante just as before with one hand at his back and the other cradling his head.]
[There is nothing Vergil can do about the past. No explanation makes it reasonable. No apology undoes the harm he's inflicted. The regrets he holds over his decisions are simply ones that he will have to carry with him until his dying breath just as Dante has learned to walk with the wounds and scars he carries. The only thing he can do, the only thing they can do now is stay on this path together now that they're on it with one another again.]
[So, it is more seriously that he promises,]
I'm not going anywhere, Dante. I'm done running away. My place is with you.