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Her body was weighing her down. She could hardly lift her head long enough to look around the tiny cell she’d been held in for nearly a year. Even if she could push past the haze that took over her mind, she probably couldn’t motivate herself to sit up from the decaying makeshift bed she lay in. The cell only had enough space for the bed and a broken toilet in the opposite corner that she could touch if she reached out her arm from where she lay.
Her daily routine became a monotonous cycle of sleeping yet not feeling well-rested. If she had any way of telling the time, she’d know that a guard brought her a meal at the same time every day. The guard never said anything to her; he’d just look at her with pity.
The memories of the day she was captured used to play repeatedly, like a broken record, even in her sleep. She supposed the only good thing about the haze setting was that she no longer had nightmares; she no longer dreamt, either. She was an empty husk, waiting for her time to slip away into limbo.
If she tried hard to remember, all she could see was the uncharacteristic look of panic that flashed in Vergil’s eyes when a group of demons swarmed her and stabbed her straight through the stomach. She used to worry to the point of vomiting that Vergil assumed she had died. After a while, her hope that Vergil would save her dissipated. Why did the demons keep her locked up after all this time with no results?
The familiar sound of clanking approached her cell; time for her meal. She gathered her willpower to prop herself up with her shaking arms, trying her best to reach for the tray the guard offered. When it became clear that she couldn’t manage the simple action, the guard opened the door to her cell and placed the tray on her lap. The small gesture made her want to cry.
Her arms gave out under her, and she flopped back onto the bed, silent tears streaming down her bruised cheeks. The guard seemed out of his element, not knowing what to do with a crying prisoner.
“Eat. You’re nothing but bones,” the guard said, keeping his distance. Having someone blatantly point out how weak she was only made her body shudder harder with tears. The guard squatted beside her bed so he’d be eye-level with her.
“Look, if no one’s coming to save you, save yourself. Do you want to die in here all alone? With nothing of your own and no one to mourn you,” he bluntly asked, voice lowered.
She sniffled and attempted to stop her breakdown. If she were candid with herself, she knew she needed someone to step in and snap her out of it. She had lost her hope of escaping quickly, relying on one of the Sparda twins to track you down and bring you back.
“H-how? What do I do,” she pleaded, voice raspy from misuse and tears. The guard loudly exhaled, considering whether he should help the prisoner further. He was the only one who had contact with her at this point; everyone else hoped she’d die in her sleep.
“For starters, eat. Get all the strength you can and get out of bed. I don’t care how hard it is; try to move around. It’ll take work, but keep working until you can defend yourself. Hide your progress; let them underestimate you,” the guard states. He stands back up and leaves the cell, ready to close the door.
“Thank you. I’ll pretend this never happened.” The guard nodded and then walked back the way he came. She was back to being completely alone; the only difference was the determination that bubbled up in her chest. She fought the fog that bogged down her thoughts. She was getting out of there, one way or another, starting with eating her meals.
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She knew a couple more months had passed by the time she considered herself ready enough to start her plan; she counted every meal the guard gave her. One meal meant one day had passed. She gradually improved until she was strong enough to leave her bed again. Since the cell was so small, she couldn’t do much training, but she tried to stay active.
Anytime she heard the guard approach, she’d pretend to be as empty as possible, just in case there was a random guard switch after all these months. She secretly worried something would happen to the guard who had helped her.
She sat around waiting for her daily meal, her leg bouncing anxiously. The guard was late. She stood up, pacing the best she could in the limited space. Relief washed over her as she heard someone approach. Her cell door swung open, revealing the beaten and bloody guard.
“There’s no time! Now’s your only chance,” he yelled frantically. Seeing him panicked shocked her; he always had a detached interest in things. She hurriedly gathered the tray hidden under her bed from her last meal. She knew the odds were against her.
She could use the tray as a makeshift shield or armour. Anything was better than nothing, especially on short notice. She spun around to face the guard and noticed he was leaning heavily against the wall, hand clutching his side.
“You’ll have to go on without me. Your path should be clear until you go past the rest of the cells,” the guard explains. She steadied her breathing and reached for the guard as he slumped to the cold ground.
“What happened to you?” The guard tilted his head back and looked at her through his lashes. His chuckle turned into a cough, blood streaming from his nose and mouth.
“Someone’s trying to break in. Today might be your lucky day. Now go!” She had no time to think about what that may mean for her. She tucked the tray into the front of her tattered shirt, aiming to protect her vitals. She hesitated before she could leave the cell.
“Wait! You helped me, but I don’t even know your name,” she urged. The guard’s head dropped, his chin touching his chest. She could tell he was fading fast.
“Eddy. Remember me, would you?” She smiled sadly, patting his shoulder. If there were any way she could save him, she would. But they both knew that his injuries were fatal.
“Thank you, Eddy. I’ll never forget this, no matter what happens,” she assured. She wasn’t sure he had heard her words; he now sat still. The sound of yelling and metal clanking snapped her out of the moment.
Without another second to spare, she stumbled into a run. She passed the cells but halted in front of a hallway. She prayed she had gone in the right direction.
She made her way down the hall with her back against the wall. It wasn’t long until the fighting seemed to grow louder. She had no time to hide when a guard turned the corner just as she did. Her eyes grew wide at the helmeted figure towering over her.
Her eyes went wide as she took a couple of steps backwards. She braced to sprint in the opposite direction, but the man stood there. She wasn’t expecting him to remove his helmet.
“Holy shit, you’re alive,” a familiar voice exclaimed. The woman’s knees threatened to give out as Nero’s face stared back. Her hand covered her dropped jaw, tears clouding her vision.
“How are you here,” she implored. The sound of heavy boots was quickly approaching the two. Nero swore under his breath and readied his demonic arm for a fight. Two figures rounded the corner as Nero shoved her behind him.
Her legs finally gave out after she peeked over Nero’s shoulder to see the two men, Dante and Vergil. They seemed so familiar yet so foreign. Realizing they weren’t a threat, Nero stepped out of the way and gestured to her.
“Just in time; we were just in the middle of our reunion,” Nero joked, attempting to relieve the tension. They both wore their signature coats, weapons in hand. Upon seeing her, Dante wasted no time dropping to the ground and pulling her into a tight embrace. She hadn’t had a hug in so long that she didn’t know what to do. Her arms hung by her sides as she cried into Dante’s shoulder.
Dante grabbed her shoulders and held her at arm's length, checking her for injuries. Satisfied by the lack of visible wounds, he helps her up. She wiped away her tears, regretting her outburst.
Nero smiled at the interaction, but Vergil stood in the same spot, eyes wide. His mouth was agape as if he couldn’t get any words out. The woman took a tentative step toward the blue twin, comforted that he didn’t flinch away. One step at a time, she slowly approached the man.
It wasn’t until she stood directly in front of him, inches away, that he snapped out of his trance. She never thought she’d see the day that Vergil was speechless. Vergil lightly grabbed one of her hands, needing the touch to know she was real.
“You died,” he stated, brows furrowed. The woman swallowed the lump in her throat, not wanting to cry again. She shook her head, ready to explain.
“As touching as this is, we should probably have this conversation somewhere else,” Nero quipped, reminding them of the danger. She balled her fists as she readied herself for their escape.
Vergil slashed Yamato, forming a portal. She ran into it before she could appreciate how it looked. The woman grabbed Vergil’s arm to steady herself once they had made it through. Looking around, she recognized the worn desk in front of her. They were in the Devil May Cry building. Once she regained her balance, she walked to Dante’s old desk.
“I’m so glad we finally found you. I hate to do this, but Kyrie’s waiting for me, and I need to tell her the news,” Nero explained, leaving the three of them. Dante and Vergil shared a meaningful look before Dante excused himself too. Vergil waited until he heard the door slam behind Dante before he turned towards the woman.
“How are you alive?” Vergil wasted no time in asking the difficult question. Heaving a sigh, the woman gestured to a chair.
“I’ll explain everything, but I need you to sit down. You don’t look well,” the woman pleaded. Miraculously, Vergil listened. She leaned against the desk, standing in front of Vergil’s chair. Vergil’s eyes never left her, causing a shiver to run down her spine. She took a risk and reached for his hand. She was surprised when he immediately held on, squeezing tightly.
“As you can see, I didn’t die. After the demons surrounded me, I couldn’t see you anymore. I didn’t even feel it when they stabbed me, but I saw something protruding from my chest. I think the sight of that made me blackout,” the woman winced. Vergil’s brows knitted together, but the woman stopped him before he could interject.
“Please, Verge, hear me out first.” She waited for his reluctant nod before continuing. Her thumb rubbed tiny circles on his hand as she gathered her thoughts.
“I woke up in a cell alone with my stomach bandaged. It wasn’t until recently that I knew the demons were luring you into a trap. I was so scared when I realized you would never come to get–” Vergil pulls her into a tight embrace.
The woman had waited for this moment for months. Her shoulders slumped as she relaxed into his arms. She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders, not wanting to let go.
“How could you think I’d give up on you,” Vergil questioned. “There’s no way I’d believe you were dead. I’d never accept that unless I had proof.” Despite herself, she smiled into Vergil’s shoulder. She wasn’t aware she was gripping his coat until he tried to break away from the hug.
Her smile grew after she realized she was finally home. The woman was shocked to see Vergil smile back. She cupped his face in her hands, taken by the moment. Vergil blinked back the tears in his eyes, still struggling with his emotions.
“It’s okay; you came for me in the end,” she assured him. Vegil chuckled, the sound foreign but welcome. Her heart melted at the sound, and she knew then that she’d never love anyone more than him.
Emotions swirling in her chest, she pulled Vergil into a sweet kiss. Unsure if he’d like to be touched, she pulled away quickly. Vergil quickly pulled her onto his lap and crashed his lips onto hers. The built-up feelings over the years resulted in a hurricane of a kiss. The two desperately grabbed onto each other, getting as close as humanly possible.
Breaking away to breathe, Vergil caressed her hair. He stared at her affectionately– something she never knew she needed.
“I’ll never let anyone take you from me again,” Vergil promised. The woman nodded her head, trusting him entirely.
“Now you’re stuck with me. I’ll never leave your side,” the woman added.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, love,” Vergil admitted, pulling you in for a tender kiss. She was glad Dante wasn’t here to see this; he’d tease Vergil relentlessly. The woman was safe now. She had Vergil with her; that’s all that mattered.