Vergil's OneShots (DMC Fanfiction)

We Aren't Twins

A/N: Busy month. Examinations are the death of me. I wish I can lose my memory too and have a good excuse to skip school.

[We Aren't Twins]

Vergil Sparda wasn't sure at all what had happened, but he knew that his head felt heavy and his body was stiff when he woke up to the smell of disinfectant. The white ceiling that filled his vision was unfamiliar, and the bed felt slightly uncomfortable beneath him. Blinking blankly and not bothering to move, Vergil tried to piece a puzzle in his mind as to how he had come to arrive here... and could not connect any dots.

In fact, Vergil realized that he could not even remember his name. Trying to come up with images or memories seemed to come up with blanks no matter how hard he tried.

A movement took his attention and he tilted his head slightly towards the side, not surprised at all to see a woman dressed in a long white coat approaching him with a board in her hand, stethoscope hung lightly around her neck.

"Good evening, Mr Sparda. It is good to see that you are awake. How are you feeling?" The woman greeted, meeting eye contact with him in the clear meaning that she was addressing him.

Vergil still didn't bother to move to sit up as he stared up at the doctor who had positioned herself at the side of his bed, keeping strong eye contact with him while looking down at him from her height.

"My name is Sparda?" He asked, and that question didn't seem to surprise the doctor at all, though she gave a slight frown.

"You don't remember your name?" She asked.

"No."

"Do you remember anything at all, Mr Sparda?"

It was safe for Vergil to assume that he was this said 'Mr Sparda' as he replied with another stout "no".

"You were caught in a large explosion that happened downtown. You were blasted a good distance away from the centre of the explosion and hit against a wall on your head pretty hard. You went through eight hours on the surgery table, but your recovery has been remarkably fast. However, because you hit your head against a wall, there was a chance that you would wake up with amnesia."

"I have amnesia?" Vergil asked, not sure if he was surprised to hear it. It made sense; how he could not come up with any memories, but still strangely know simple knowledge like what amnesia was.

"Along with ten broken ribs, a cracked femur, dislocated shoulder and a broken arm when you came in." The doctor nodded. "But you healed up in your sleep, so I would like to ask for you to try moving yourself and see where still hurts. The hospital doesn't have many experience fixing up half-demons like you, so we are unsure about your rate of healing."

Shuffling the surprising information that he was a half-demon in his mind, Vergil quietly obeyed and was soon done with his assessment. The doctor quickly revealed that he had physically healed up very well –that his broken bones were all mended. Vergil was once more advised to keep the bandages on for at least a day more to allow the flesh wounds to close up properly, and then told that he could discharge as soon as he felt up to it.

"Doctor; wait." Vergil had finally sat up by now, feeling stiff and strange, but not hurting anywhere. The doctor paused by the open door, a hand on the handle, and turned backwards to look at the patient that she had just finished assessing.

"Yes, Mr. Sparda?"

"What is my name? My full name?"

The doctor supposed that it would have been a very weird question if she didn't know that he was an amnesiac patient. Still, there was pity in her eyes when she looked back down at the board in her hands.