Vergil's OneShots (DMC Fanfiction)

Reunion

A/N: Was Superstar Sparda not what you liked? The reception for the previous two parts was pretty low. I was a little disappointed. :( Moving on, I guess this story just burns out from the rest for being something radically different. This Vergil is quite different from the previous ones that I've described especially in the way he views his brother.

Enjoy. Hopefully.

Photo Credits: User en on Zerochan.net

[Reunion]

Fluorescent lights overhead flickered as Vergil struggled to walk. He had no clear idea where he was headed towards, but still one leg put in front of the other as he leaned heavily against the wall, every inch of him hurting. Every step he took was one more that brought about crazy pain. But still Vergil held himself, one hand holding on to his injured shoulder where he had suffered a deep cut, and the other holding on to his sword.

His breathing was ragged and his vision blurred at every step he took.

Still, the hint of a grin hung on the corner of his lips. He would admit that he was in a bad state. But the state in which he had left Dante... Now that was something that he was proud of. Even if he fell down unconscious shamelessly at this moment, even if he was caught with this body of utter weakness, he would still take pride and never regret what he had done. He was still walking, still upright.

The same could not be said for Dante, who Vergil had left crucified on the top of a church through the heart by his own sword, bleeding and waiting for death.

The thought and memory of how he had left his weak, foolish twin brother brought a bark of laughter from his raw throat despite how much it took the energy out of his frame. Finally deciding that it was enough, that he had gone far enough so that Dante's irritating companions that he called friends would not be willing to track his blood trail to where he was right now, Vergil stopped walking forth and leaned his entire weight against the wall, putting his back to it.

He needed a rest. Vergil decided that quickly as his legs quickly lost the energy and he lost the will to keep holding up. Sliding against the wall slowly downwards, he was glad to find cold cemented ground beneath him, holding him up against the world, telling him that he was still alive. What mattered now was that he was still alive, because he could regain his power over time.

Vergil Sparda might be weak now, but once he recovered from this battle that he had come out victorious but weak, he would become the world's strong demon left in the Human World. Getting his father's power and might from Hell might have proved to be impossible, but at least he had proved to himself –and the world out there –once and for all that even if he could not be as strong as what his father had been, he had beaten the man that rumours had designed to be a man who had overtaken their father in terms of skills and abilities.

If the world said that Dante might have overtaken their father, and he had defeated Dante, then it meant finally to the world that Vergil was at the top. He had finally reached where he had wanted to be from the start; the very top, where no one could defeat him, where he held power and might. Vergil could finally protect all that he wanted, to make up for the lack of ability and skills to kill the demons that had ruined his life. Finally, he had the power that he needed when his mother was killed, when his house burnt down, and when he believed that his twin brother had been taken away by the demons as well.

Dante hadn't been taken away by the demons, but his goal in life had been wretched. To live a useless life, to fulfil none of the great things set out in front of them as sons of Sparda... Vergil had not been able to accept that his brother had fallen off the track to greatness and power. If Dante was not going to work for power, then Vergil had decided that he was better off if Dante were dead.