He was there, just no in open sight, one of the windows on the ceiling was open. Unlike Dante, Vergil vastly preferred solitude. He didn't like people, he didn't trust them at all after his childhood. So he watched them, protected them but rarely interacts. Hearing her voice he looked down from where he was sitting on the roof by the open window.

What could she possibly want? He idly thought as he stood walking the couple inches to let himself drop through the sky light window and land on his feet. "Why have you come?" he was healed now, he had had time to let it heal since his demonic healing wanted nothing to do with the wound. His hair was slicked back, his color much better and his eyes, Dante's blue, instead of red. He finally looked as he should, as a younger version of his younger brother. He didn't speak with an aggressive tone, more curious as he stayed in the light of the cold apartment. He had not bothered lighting a fire the cold did not bother him like it does most.