Chapter Text
The ride back to Night city was strange.
Darkness etched in clouds of smoke and neon. The shutter 'n jolt of an engine switching gears to deliver her to her fate. She watched as it all blurred for moments at a time, eyes unfocused and dizzy with the ordeal of movement, of being awake.
It was supposed to feel like going home. V had only been there a couple of weeks ago, or at least it had only been a couple for her. Strange how that could be possible. To move through time differently and have to swallow the awareness of displacement, sharp and bitter.
The whole ride back was full of echoes of words she wished she could forget. Replaying the voices of those she had so recently thought were friends in an endless loop.
Two years. Gone.
They had all moved on, barely had time for her, didn't care to see her even after dropping the bombshell of 'two year coma'. Part of V felt like it was unfair of her to expect them to drop everything, thought maybe they'd at least express interest or consideration in having her visit, but then that stubborn part of her that refused to ever stay quiet was numbed with resentment.
It hadn't exactly been a choice. It was only supposed to be a month. They told her it would only be a month. How many times had she been lied to? Cheated, beaten, stolen from, flatlined. The fact that the last number was more than one should have been a sick joke.
Flatlined more than once? Hah. Kept coming back to find the world an even shitter place than she had left it? HAH.
Just when her life was reaching its peak of shit-ness, this happened. Wakin' up to a familiar face speaking unfamiliar words. Bombs dropped, reality checked, unable to even stand on legs that didn't shake while listenin' to it all.
V stared out the window of the Delamain car. Rain streaked down the side, water reflecting as many harsh city lights as she remembered. Towering buildings distorted in the lens of rain's surface. At least water and glass hadn't fucking changed physics since she went under.
She could hear Delamain speaking, narrating what had changed, Yorinobu's predictable shortcomings, the vice grip Arasaka had on all of Night City, loosenin' only in its own instability threatening to cave in on itself. Still, while once this might have felt monumental or even satisfying, there was only a hollow acceptance. She wasn't even fully paying attention.
It was like she was listening to that blasting TV from the unit above her in Japantown. Back then, she would shove a pillow over her ears or just lay in bed and listen to the mix of news, stand-up, and bad jokes about the state of the NUSA. The falling literacy rates and general chaos engulfing the city bit by bit.
Or, it was even like she had woken up in a BD. Everything felt vivid and real, but it couldn't possibly be her own life, own experiences and reality. So much was different. It didn't feel like she was comin' home, as much as wakin' up all over again in some horrible dream.
Everything had been fucked for a while, but at least she used to know for the most part what that meant. The shapes and curves of its wretchedness and her own fear. The shock of so much change at once...did it make sense that it pissed her off and made her want to cry at the same time?
V had never been an emotional crier. If she had been one for therapy- well, she didn't really feel a need for some gonk shrink to tell her all the ways she was fucked up. She knew enough of her problems. At least she used to.
When she was sad, she drank. Or took a job that ended with her knives in someone's head. Usually a lot of someones. When she was angry- well her process was pretty similar. What was all that she had said to Johnny about him being an alcoholic asshole? Maybe they had always been more similar than she would ever care to admit, engram rewriting her brain chemistry or no.
Johnny.
His sudden absence was also painful. No voice in her ear telling her she was an idiot with every decision she made. Forcin' her to actually analyze her decisions when she couldn't always trust his own twisted ethical stances.
V should feel grateful, hadn't she done all of this to get rid of him in the first place?
But still she found her probing his name only to be met with silence. Glancing over her shoulder expecting to see him appear and comment on the changes too. It had become her new normal, having him always around. Weird and deadly as the nature of his presence was, now the only voice in her head was her own. It felt wrong, the absence.
All of this felt wrong. Where was Tom's Diner? How was Mama Welles? Was the El Coyote Cojo still standing? Was the Afterlife still called that? It had stood the testament of time for so long, and yet with everythin' else V had once thought were constants, she wasn't sure of anything's permanence in her life anymore.
She rolled the window down slowly, breathed in the cold air, let it whip against her face from the speed of the car, and stuck one hand out the window to feel the water sting her skin like it was ice.
The pain was grounding, but it always had been. Maybe that was another part of her that was fucked up. It didn't really hurt as much as it was just uncomfortable, but every now and then one drop stung more than the others and a tiny thrill shot through her. Like micro-stims that still worked on her damaged, weakened body.
Grateful for the reminder that she was alive, maybe. Or maybe she was just happy to feel anything after so long without.
Wakin' up, stumbling around, calling ghosts, gazing at her reflection to find a familiar face and a stranger's eyes. Where had her passion and fire gone? She had clung to them, once. Her anger and her skill with a blade. Maybe she could still aim, but without her optics and other cyberware, she didn't know who she was anymore. Was saving her life really worth this? If someone she could barely recognize was the one who made it out to the other side? Was that surviving or was it rebirth?
Was it even still her at all?
Even her hair was different. A nurse mentioned that it had been shaved for practical reasons at first, but the longer she had been in the coma, the more it had grown back. It was longer now than it had been when she had went under, the wolfcut she normally wore it in gone, just a straight curtain of tangled ink falling down to her shoulder blades.
Another piece of her identity missing. Palms too bare without the familiar hug of fingerless leather. The weight of silver rings gone, the chains around her neck from Johnny's dog tags and the bullet pulled from her skull. Basic elements of her personhood stripped and lost with the time that had overlooked her. Even her freckles looked a little lighter, hadn't seen the sun in so long, skin too-pale and nearly gaunt with the loss of muscle mass.
Maybe it would have been better if her hair had just been buzzed, let even the follicles in her scalp be forced to start over as she was. It didn't stop everything from still not feeling real.
Another sting of pain blooming up her forearm, and V shuddered. But it was. It was all real.
"V? Did you hear my question?" Delamain interrupted her almost dissociative trance.
She didn't respond, hesitating for a moment and letting her tingly-numb fingers flex a few times before pulling her arm back in. She didn't roll the window back up. Maybe the wind and stinging droplets would hit her face and wake her up if she felt the temptation to drown again.
"I asked if you find the liquor I procured for Mr. Vektor suitable."
Vik.
Too many memories and emotions swirled and lapped at her insides when she thought of him, like some kinda cliche tumultuous storm. Just the sound of his name was almost enough to unleash a tidal wave of it.
If it were at sea that sort of storm might have been romantic, picturesque, but the storm that raged within her was not beautiful or worthy of capturing. It was more like a void than an ocean, a hungry black hole. Perhaps V had been a star once, or on her way to becoming one, but it was surely collapsed now. Pulling all the other light and people around her into that same nothingness.
How many lives had she taken? How many had or still wanted to take hers? Some things were probably best left unknown, but she still thought about them. No matter how many people she lost, there was always one more that felt too painful to imagine. Unconscionable and gut-wrenching.
No one cared if she lived or died, everyone she had known and loved had moved on, but not Vik.
When he saw her on holo, flat voice and expression lifting considerably, that was the only moment that V had felt a flicker of emotion inside of her that wasn't despair or overwhelm since waking up. She wasn't sure what she would have done if he didn't want to see her. Out of all of them, not Vik. He really was her one constant, the most reliable man in Night City, certainly one of the only truly trustworthy ones, and she had...well she hadn't seen him in...
Sayin' two years was getting repetitive but the painful truth was, it had been longer than that. After Jackie died, after she got flatlined and Takemura dragged her limp body from the dump, then Vik nursed her back to health, just thinking about that embarrassing outburst when she woke up filled her with shame.
Demanding that he fix her, sayin' that he always came through for her and was letting her down, pinning all of that responsibility onto Vik when there was nothin' he could do, having him walk out of the room and call for Misty rather than have to face more of her desperate pleading-
V had thought about that day too much already. Thought about how he acted around her after Jack passed too. Avoided goin' to see him much after a while.
What did she expect from him anyway, a miracle? Like he was some fuckin' guardian angel to her? He was a ripper doc that already let her get away with way too much shit she didn't deserve.
V had always felt...well she had always hoped maybe...but it didn't really matter anymore. If Vik hadn't seen her as nothin' but a kid before, after that little tantrum he surely did. Always pushin' her away when she got too close or friendly, shrugging off her hugs and rolling his eyes whenever she tried to flirt with him or drop a hint. Calling her kiddo all the time...yea, she got the message.
If only feelings worked like that. Were as easy to shrug off and reject as unwanted advances. That made her feel dirty though, like some sort of creep, and they were friends if nothin' else. So she pushed it down just like all the other emotions she felt regularly that weren't productive. They didn't go away 'xactly, but they were easier to swallow and deal with.
Easier to focus on the productive ones too: anger, desperation, detachment.
When she met Takemura, somethin' inside her started bloomin' too. And then again with Reed. A small look of approval here and there, earning trust and even maybe respect, only to get shot down again. Was she just attracted to unavailable older men, or was reaching for the unachievable that deeply embedded in her genetic code?
Though at least Goro shot her down point blank, and both had occupied a little enough portion of her life that it stung and passed. Vik though...like she said, he was a constant. Even when she started reluctantly avoiding his clinic, didn't stop her from thinkin' about him.
V blinked at the screen in front of her, Delamain's face coming back into focus. Did she do this before? Zoning out so much, melodrama sucking her down a rabbit hole of self pity and unanswerable questions? She couldn't remember. Even before the coma there was Johnny telling her to stop her whimpering and get her ass back outside. There was too much noise and too many leads to desperately follow for her to sink into the deep depression she might have otherwise.
What had Johnny said to her when she woke up in that Hotel in Pacifica, sick and exhausted? That he hoped she would skip the weeks of wallowin' part like he had after deserting?
Delamain's words came back into focus too after that, the liquor I procured for Mr. Vektor... and she turned her head to stare blankly at the pristinely clean seat beside her.
Leather looked brand new, sleek and smooth. She reached for the bottle in between, bright yellow O'Duggan's label starin' back at her. V would know this brand anywhere, the single malt Irish whiskey was one Jackie and Vik had broken out on one or two special occasions.
The memories made her lip twitch. But the AI had asked her a question.
"Yep, perfect." Her voice was still hoarse from disuse. Maybe spendin' two years inside of her own head really was bleeding its way into waking conscious. "'Xactly the one I had in mind. Vik'll love it."
Delamain didn't respond, and her voice still felt too low. Too odd.
"Sorry, zoned out for a sec." She half explained.
"That's quite all right. It is truly a pleasure to see you back and in good health."
So everyone she knew had abandoned her, except for the man who felt nothin' but platonic fondness for her, and the AI taxi service she had once helped wrangle split 'children' cars for. Her life may be fucked beyond measure, but hey that was two. Better than zero.
Weird as helping the AI with his little problem had been, talkin' to his vehicles had been a weirdly therapeutic process in and of itself. Maybe she had never needed to seek out professional help cause she had been gettin' it from truly unfathomable places. Now wasn't seemin' to be an exception.
"Though I cannot help but notice your rather vacant stare. Might I ask how you're feeling at the present moment?"
See? Delamain was her therapist. A truly all-inclusive taxi service. Ten outta ten stars. Question like that from her shrink deserved an equally uncomfortable honest answer then.
"Like an outcast. Feels like just yesterday I was part and parcel of this town. Now I'm a goddamn tourist."
And not even one who could fight anymore, useless as her chrome and weakened body were. Which made her not only a tourist, but a fucking gonk one to travel to Night City of all places, defenseless.
"If it's any comfort to you, from where I sit, not much has changed as you might think."
"Oh yea?" She glanced out the open window again, seeing a giant holographic screen of Kerry on the side of a building.
She frowned, sticking the hand that wasn't still partially numb from cold out the window for its micro-stim turn. V considered flipping off the sign before decidin' against it. Call her a sentimentalist, not that anyone she knew likely would, but it felt wrong even if he had been a bit of an asshole when she called him.
She couldn't blame them all for continuing to live their lives any more than they could blame her for going into a coma. Shit happens, that's life. But for only a couple of years to have changed enough that they didn't even want to see her anymore? V figured she had known them for significantly less than that, so maybe it was incongruous, but she was bitter.
"You told me about Arasaka and all that, guess Johnny got his wish. Arasaka's on the way out." She huffed. "'Cept it's like playin' wack-a-corp. Hit one, three others pop up."
Goro was right too, about some things. He still alive? Is Vik gonna be as happy to see her in person as he seemed? Why had he been so vague about Misty? What if she has just been kiddin' herself, desperate for any sense of belonging that she mistook his shock as relief or some other sentimental shit?
"Are...are you talking to me?"
V blinked at the screen in front of her again, like an idiot. Had she been talking out loud? Speakin' to Johnny had always been a weird mix of verbal and in her head depending on who was around. Maybe that chip and his engram had eaten away at her sanity too, unable to differentiate the two anymore. Maybe being entirely 'ganic was a blessing in disguise, to prevent her from cyberpsychosis if nothin' else after everything, though she still felt bare and awkward without it.
She had a disquieting new awareness of how Goro must have felt here. He was still able to look after himself well enough though.
"Nah, to myself. Doesn't matter." She missed Johnny with a sudden rearing discomfort. Without all his nagging and probing, her head felt as barren as it likely should have been after getting a bullet lodged inside.
Delamain began to slow as they neared their destination, an anticipatory thrum startin' up in her bones as they pulled up to the sodden dirty curb.
"We have arrived. I shall await your return here."
V grabbed the bottle, fingers closing tightly around its neck, if only that made her feel more prepared to face what lay waiting for her inside the clinic. "Better get goin'."
"One last thing, if I may... we all eventually run out of fuel. But that hardly means the journey wasn't pleasant."
She shut the door, pausing while Delamain finished speaking. That was...strangely wise. Then again, not that strange after accepting that an AI was her therapist. Seemed the one thing Dexter Deshawn did right by her was bookin' Delamain for that goddamned disaster.
After hesitating by the door for a moment, considering responding but having nothing of worth to really say, V turned and headed under the overhang. Immediately nearly blinded by the harsh crimson lights of the stairwell, she climbed them cautiously, tense and wary of those around her in a way she never had to be before. At least not to this extent.
Even before comin' to NC, her life as a nomad hadn't been especially safe or stable. She sorta remembers bein' a kid, flashes of memories popping up at odd moments when a certain smell or image reminded her of somethin'. V remembered random loot her dad would bring back sometimes for her, a hunter in the clan with an eye for old antiques from another era of the world no one remembered anymore.
A camera that spit out blurry, shitty pictures in tiny squares after nearly an hour of 'processing', little metallic discs that reflected as both a mirror and rainbow used for storin' data before everything was just put on smaller chips and drives. A little tv that nearly 'xplodid their car battery one time just to appear fuzzy that her dad said his grandpa swore up and down was the peak of tech back in the day.
Fear. Running from a group of Raffens the first time she went on a hunt. The loud pop and cry her dad let out when he got shot. The warm dry wind the day they burned him, the smell of cactus flowers bloomin' nearby that barely masked the burning flesh. The feeling of freedom the first time she rode a bike, the sputter of the engine back when she couldn't afford gas, the burn scars on her side and arm from her first crash.
Her first kill. A week after her 16th birthday, the almost robotic movements of grabbing her gun when Raffen Shiv scouts assaulted their camp. One second the iron weighed cold and heavy in her palm, the next a single bullet was lodged in the eye of a Raffen. The dull thud of their lifeless body hitting the ground. No time to stop and think about what she had just done, the quick packing up of the tents and resources to move locations.
After her clan was taken over, the smell of gasoline as they burned bodies and various members of the family, more cactus flowers. It was weird to remember these things, to remember feelin' alive. Not as she was now, jumpy at every glance in her direction while heading down the fuckin' street.
She had nearly lost everything in NC and still told herself she loved this dump of a city. At least it had felt familiar after a while. Did she love it or did she love how different it was when she needed a fresh start, loved the community she had found there? Clingin' to every group of people who showed her acceptance and calling them family.
V hadn't had a family in a long time. Has been chasin' one anyway. Even being accepted into the Aldecaldos had felt wrong in how much she longed for it.
She didn't think she belonged in one anymore, but they told her she did. So she visited when she could, helped Panam as much as possible until they had even became, what V had thought, were genuine friends. Now Panam wouldn't even speak to her, who knows how or where the clan had gone. So far out of coverage range that no message could reach them, or maybe it did and Panam had moved on too.
Any of them could be true, but if V had ever really been part of the family, it wouldn't be.
So V was back at square one. Actually even less, since even as a nomad there was a ripper in her clan. Vik had expressed his suspicions before though, muttering about bad implants and shit rust docs the first time she went to him for an upgrade. Felt wrong to speak about a dead member of the family that way, but she had chosen to leave, and it was comin' from a good place. Vik was just protective s'all.
Her old chrome had served her fine enough, but Vik was without doubt the best doc in Night City. Nothin' could change her mind about that.
Someone called out to her as she walked past a couple of guys leanin' against a stone wall and she kept walking, didn't even glance in their direction. The walls were all wrong. Entirely new buildings and construction that had once been open areas, glowing signs advertising one new biz after another that she had never heard of. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
V was so tense she thought she might crack a tooth given how tight her jaw was clenched. The door to Misty's Esoterica was no longer the dark wooden slab it had once been, replaced instead with a mechanized sliding door. Inside, the corpo biz 'Zetatech' glowed with sterile white and dim lilac lights. Of course corpos found a way to weasel into the once genuine small business, the assholes.
A receptionist greeted her immediately upon entering the room. His voice was so measured and calm, V almost mistook him for a 'borg. Misty was nowhere in sight, neither was any trace of incense or the spiritual shop it had once been. V might not know anything about spirits, chakras, and shit like Misty did, but the vibes definitely felt off.
Implants and chrome were showcased within glass cases instead, color and unique deco replaced with the boring unity of steel and silver. 'Refined' a corpo might say. Ugly scop shit, is what it looked like to V.
In this newly vulnerable state, climbin' up walls, scaling rooves to find secret entrances, or bullying her way past secretaries like this were sadly behind her. Smooth talkin' her way past people had never been a big strong suit for V, usually just surveyed the layout and avoided talkin' to anyone she didn't have to. Looked like she didn't have a choice this time.
"Here to see Viktor. Mind if I go through?"
"Do you have an appointment?" The receptionist spoke in the same soft, measured tone.
Did she? Probably not, considering she'd sure as hell never had to make one to see Vik before, not all formal like this at least. Just another thing that felt weird and out of place. It had been more of a handshake 'sure I'll come see you' rather than anything official. Did Vik answer to these gonks?
"Yeah, private one."
"Ah, right, I see a note right here." So Vik mentioned her after all. That was...a good sign right? "Please hurry in. The next patient is due to arrive soon."
She side eyed him as she walked past, but he was already looking back at the tablet again, completely ignoring her presence. Misty was leagues better than this guy, way more welcoming and warm. Then again, they had been friends. What happened to her? Why wasn't she here?
The alley way was empty of the 'dorpheads, indies, and proles that usually hung around. Their absence made the space look much larger than it had before, and unease trickled down her spine seeing the familiar descending steps and green haze when nothin' about any of this was familiar anymore.
The emerald lights flickered as V gazed down at the gate, the door at the base of the steps already hangin' ajar. Somehow both welcoming and ominous.
Vik insisted the docs must have missed something, that she surely couldn't be completely incompatible with chrome now. V wasn't feeling especially hopeful, but the certainty in his voice gave her pause. What if?
Maybe Vik would have the answer to all of her problems, maybe she would climb back up these steps with all or even half her cyberware back online.
He's not your fuckin' guardian angel. Was that her voice or Johnny's?
Even if that did somehow miraculously happen, would she become a Merc again? Kill even more people for money after everyone she herself had lost? Try and actually have a backbone and morals again like she did for a bit before the deal with the Voodoo boys went shit and it all went down the drain again?
She couldn't even think about Dogtown. As low as she'd ever been, gettin' stupidly involved in some FIA plot like she had any right to be there. Spies, agents, and a Merc who had probably killed more than all of them. Didn't matter that she'd played her part well, she was no better than an executioner sold to the highest bidder.
As if all those weak, useless little choices gave her excuses to do what she had done, like they somehow redeemed her. Using only knives and no guns after Jackie, her father, and even she was zeroed with one. Then only using knives with nonlethal mods for a while until Placide betrayed her and she used his own butcher knife to take him down.
In Dogtown it went all out the window. Any iron, knife, or sniper was good enough if it got the job done. She had razed the town of scavengers and gigs, tellin' herself she was doin' the right thing while workin' for a fuckin' politician that treated people like pawns. Then betrayed Songbird on top of it all.
V had fought so hard to get her own life back, but after everything, here she was now, forced to live with it. Nothin' would be the same again. And say she did get it all back, only to die on her first gig after bein' weak and out of practice.
She didn't have answers, and there was no point in entertaining options that were probably off of the table anyway. A similarly terrifying thought, was what she was gonna do facin' Vik again.
How could she explain her absence to him? Not the coma, but before that? Had he even noticed?
Maybe he hadn't realized for a while, welcomed the brief peace and quiet between patients rather than her bargin' in on his break time. Technically, she was one of those patients, but the checkups and upgrades were more an excuse than anything. Just to pull him from a boxing match long enough to talk to her. To touch her, professional as it always was.
Dirty. Pitiful. V had been a low-life merc hung up on some old ripperdoc that didn't think twice about her. Pathetic in her pining, Johnny had definitely bitched more than once about her thoughts involving the man, though while Johnny was around they were mostly filled with guilt rather than anything dirty. Maybe some were dirty. Fuck off.
It didn't matter then and it doesn't matter now. Vik is happy she's alive, that much she can count on at least.
V took a shaky first step down, forcing bravado and a forced calm into her movements, but her knuckles were white around the neck of her gift to him.
She hauled open the gate when she reached the landing, nervous palm digging into cold metal. It was heavier than she remembered, though that likely said more about her physical condition than the gate itself. She hid the bottle behind her back last minute as a poor excuse of a surprise, and let out a quiet breath at the sight of the clinic.
Different for sure, but not so overwhelmingly pristine like Misty's shop had been. The floors were still cracked concrete, walls lined with neon, chair in the same place, though the glaring 'Zetatech' sign was an eye sore.
V spotted Vik immediately, his back to her as he hunched over some kind of machine to the left of the chair. There were more screens scattered about than before, some mounted up on the wall, but she couldn't take in many more details after her eyes locked onto the man inside.
His back was just as wide as she remembered it being, shirtsleeves stretched tight around his biceps, but gone were the casual rolled up sleeves. In its place was some sort of vest atop a shiny button up. Vik? In a buttoned up collared shirt?
A million first lines to say had plagued her leading up to this moment, things she had thought over carefully on the plane, and then in Delamain's cab. From stupid jokes to heartfelt murmurs that she likely would have bailed out of saying last minute anyway to go with option A.
Yet they all vanished suddenly, instead what escaped her lips after over two years was a blurted out, "Vik? What the hell you wearin'?"
He turned slowly, a small grin startin' to grow on his face that others might have mistaken for a grimace. He brushed off his hands, shaking his head.
"Ah, back off, V. They make me wear this damn thing...Something about meeting safety standards." He straightened up fully, hands resting on his hips as he sized her up too.
She resisted the uncharacteristic urge to shift uncomfortably. That's not something she ever would have done before, so she refused to start now.
The deep rumble of his voice was warm and nostalgic in a way that made V tighten her grip on the bottle behind her back even more. She met his gaze head on, offerin' a small quirk of a smile.
"Doubt it, given I almost got a brain hemorrhage on seeing it."
The banter was natural, habitual. He still had his shades on at least, and she could see the K.O. studs in his ears hadn't gone anywhere. New threads or no, it was undoubtedly the same Vik. Relief washed through her veins, cleanin' out some of that dread and fear.
"Hah. You're making a habit of this - rising from the dead."
He said it lightheartedly, shaking his head as if he told a bad joke. It kind of was, and his smile began to slip. But then he just shrugged, crossing his arms and the grin was back. It made his thick arms bulge rebelliously against the tight sleeves of that ridiculous shirt again. Out of place as it was on him, V suddenly had less complaints about it than before.
"I actually thought I'd never see you again." Vik said, voice still teasing but with an undercurrent of something more genuine. Even relieved. Maybe she hadn't been kidding herself after they talked on holo.
The small tug at the corner of her lips grew, and V closed the distance between them with a breathy chuckle. "C'mon, gonna make me cry Vik."
He turned his head away as she got closer, but his wide grin said plenty enough to stop her from tryin' to read into it. She pulled the bottle out from behind her back and pushed it toward him. That got his attention.
V hadn't seen him smile like this in a long time. Usually it was low chuckles, lopsided smiles and shaking his head at whatever insane thing her and Jackie tried to convince him of or drag him into. They bantered and he turned down their invitations to drinks even when she batted her eyes at him and tried to give him a smooch on the cheek the rare times he actually agreed.
Just thinkin' about it made her imagine Johnny's disgusted scoff. What? It was a playful smooch. Not like she went around doin' that to just anyone.
But even those times, he only drank a beer or two and nothin' else. Never really 'let loose' like V and Jack did, though maybe Vik had a different definition of the phrase.
Vik would cheer when a live boxing match was on, always smiled the widest then, while Jackie hooted and hollered. V never got into boxing like them, but she'd taken part in her share of street fights and could appreciate a solid exchange of blows. Never seen him smile as wide at her as when she won that tournament that had been more of a PR stunt than a legitimate match.
Didn't take the high out of winning though, or the high from seein' how proud he was of her.
She'd find herself laughing along at how passionately exasperated they would get when a match was on anyway and doing her best to follow along while Vik waxed poetic about the sport.
When V came to see him after Jackie died, well...they still bantered, but mostly Vik just sat and watched his old boxing matches as if she wasn't there at all. V'd ask him about business, but she'd always get the same half hearted updates about how he couldn't complain. If she came to ask for an upgrade he'd kick his stool to the side in his casual way, readyin' his tools while she gave him brief updates on leads and gigs while sparing him the gory details.
Less so because she thought he would care about the grit, but more because she didn't want his opinion of her to lessen if he knew the dirty merc she'd become. Or had been for a while. Didn't want him worryin' either. He might've asked her about the chip or her health, other times just waitin' for her to finish her update before sedating her to have a look himself.
Vik was the same ole hardass, chucklin' occasionally at her bad jokes and offerin' advice when he could but altogether was just...more distant with Jackie gone. Just as sympathetic and capable as her ripper and still a friend, but some of that closeness... V definitely felt the difference. The way he didn't look at her unless she addressed him directly, his brief thanks the couple of times she had brought him food and didn't offer her a seat like he used to for her and Jack.
But there was a lotta stuff that could've contributed to that distance. Some of them her own fault.
Everything had felt different, without Jackie there. Sometimes she had felt like he was going to burst down the stairwell any minute, voice echoing while he called out for his chooms to go to a bar to celebrate whatever it was he came up with that day. They didn't get shot, a job went well, Misty said his energy looked good, he was thirsty, the list went on.
But of course, that never happened. Maybe it was V too that was different. Johnny would appear sometimes, rolling his eyes and telling her to shut up in the corner of her vision when she was definitely stalling sedation. It's not like she was nervous, she was just...happy to have Vik to herself again for a bit.
Johnny knew that though, obviously. She wondered sometimes if Vik noticed the change in her behavior too, how her eyes would flick over to different empty parts of the room for odd stretches of time while Johnny spoke to her, or if she was acting different around him, unsure how to talk to him anymore without mentioning Jack, or the way she had begged him to do the impossible as he walked out of the room without sparing her another glance.
Jackie had said before he thought Vik was soft on her, not like the older man really ever gave her special treatment when she probed, and at some point V had realized Jack was just tryin' to make her feel better. Even if Vik was, it wasn't the sorta fondness she wished it was. But in the couple months before she disappeared, it felt like some kinda wall had come up between them. Maybe whatever deeper affection Vik had held for the both of them got buried with Jack.
V pushed all of those thoughts from her head as Vik took the bottle offered to him. Whatever weird tension they may have had for a bit before, it seemed all was forgiven. Only took a coma, who knew?
She had forgotten how large his hands were, grip reaching all the way around the sides of the bottle while hers were still holding the neck. V tried not to imagine that same grip around her wrists, or her hips like she had too many times before, before realizing she didn't have someone peakin' at her thoughts anymore to stop her.
"What would be wrong with that?" Vik said when she released the liquor.
V froze for a moment, staring at the man before her in shock before remembering what they had been talking about. Gonna make me cry, Vik.
Oh, yea. He was happy to see her. Her shoulders relaxed finally, noting the creases in his forehead as he raised his brows at her over the rims of his sunglasses. It was only then that she really noticed his eyes. Shaded by the lenses as always, but wider than usual, smiling at her like she was the best thing that had stepped into his clinic in years.
Was she? Judging by how much had changed, it was probably relieving to see a familiar face, especially one of a thought-to-be-dead woman. V couldn't remember the last time she had cried, a full on genuine sob, but if she thought about Vik and everything that had happened and the way he was smiling at her now too much, she might be well on her way.
"Anyway," she started, pushing it all down. "Got you a little somethin'."
Vik gazed down at the bottle, holding up a finger as he began to explain and walk to his shelf. "They have this rule - no drinking anywhere in the clinic." His voice was mocking. "I could get reprimanded. Woooo..."
V had never heard him make that sound before, the sarcastic tone was familiar, as used to his stoic dry humor as anyone who knew him well could be, but it still caught her off guard. She choked out a laugh, and he froze with the bottle in hand, his back to her again as he recognized it.
"Well hang on a minute... huh, same one Jack and I knocked back." He faced her again, forehead creasing once more as he tried to identify the memory. "Championship bout for the middle-weight title. Malone v Kano - remember it as if it was yesterday."
His smile finally slipped, voice taking on an odd tone. V had always felt like she could listen to his voice for hours, deep and gravel-like, but soothing. Not that he often did. Vik was one of those people who didn't feel the need to fill silences. Never said anything he didn't mean either. Tools were scattered across various tabletops, just layin' and listenin' to him too as he hovered in front of the chair.
She couldn't place the emotion, but already missed the smile he had graced her with before. V didn't remember the exact night like he could, him and Jack had watched several championships while she was around, but she remembered a lot of moments just as bittersweet.
"Life was simpler somehow, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, good times..." He tapped the bottle with his finger, shrugging again and glancing back toward her. "Things've changed, no denyin' it. Jackie's gone..." His voice tapered off, softer. V met him there at the same level.
"So's Misty's shop."
"Mh." Vik hummed. "And all her scents..."
The smoky herbal incense that usually wafted down to the clinic was definitely missing. So was the sound of Vik's TV always droning with a fight, people ambling around upstairs, the rumbling of cars and traffic were even muffled and sounded further away than usual. The clinic had always been unique and alive with some sort of noise, only to now feel eerily quiet, devoid. Another disquieting change.
Vik set the bottle down finally with a sigh. "Alright, come on, hop in the chair."
Familiar words, ones he had said so many times that the brief familiarity was more than welcome, if not for the grin pulling at his lips again. V was starting to suspect he might be on somethin' for him to be smiling this much.
He looked at her expectantly when she didn't move, hands on his hips again. She noted how despite his mocking before, he didn't pour them a celebratory drink after all.
He wasn't actually afraid of being reprimanded, was he? That certainly wasn't like the Vik she knew, threatening scavengers and never backing down from reminding people just how intimidating of a fighter he really was, fully 'ganic or no.
Maybe he was just waiting until after her checkup then? Doing shots before getting vitals taken was probably not the smartest move. Not that whiskey was a good choice to be relegated to a mere shot anyhow.
"Ok, let's get to this." V climbed on the chair same as she had hundreds of times before, noting the leather was the same worn blue. Its texture was comforting, considering the disappointing news she was anticipating. Still, that small voice in her head was whispering what if over and over again.
Definitely not Johnny's, hopeful and unrealistic as it was.
"Heh, that's the attitude." Vik pulled his stool up reflexively, and V let her gaze focus on his arms again. Maybe having her thoughts to herself again would be nice, once she got used to the quiet.
"So tell me - what's it like to be back among the living?"
He reached his hand out to her with the plug like always so she could jack in, glove and mechanical fingers stretched away so she wouldn't hurt herself reaching for it. His smile had softened, but V was a bit surprised he wanted to hear about that. Thought maybe he'd wanna hear about the FIA mess and avoid any more sentimental talk, but that was Vik, she guessed. Straightforward as ever.
What was it like? Awful. Awesome to be alive, but terrible to be living. Might as well be honest, V owed him that much.
"I lost, Vik. Lost in life. All my plans, dreams..." She trailed off, voice going tight, too vulnerable, as she inserted the cord into the biomon port behind her ear.
Vik tapped away at his screen, holding the monitor steady with his other. She watched the ink of his sleeve move as his arm flexed, the dice and colorful faces etched there creasing and winking at her.
"You survived."
The way he said it left little room to argue, but V always found a way with him. Sure she survived, only to come back to a place where the rules were 'fight or die' every day.
"Can't function in my environment, so what's that matter?" She'd likely end up dead in a matter of days in her current state. The irony. "Me from two years back? Gone, never gonna be her again...you know what I mean."
The scan completed as she lay there, wondering how it would happen. Maybe an explosion, if she got to go out with a bang like Scorpion did. More than likely it would be a simple car accident or mugging, left to rot on the street or in a dump yet again. Though the first time she got zeroed she had plenty of active chrome, so maybe it really was all fucked and for nothing.
Plenty of people wanted her head on a stick, reputation got a little out of hand before she disappeared takin' too many gigs involvin' gangers and political schemes, so maybe if she got lucky at least she'd avoid getting tortured to death in the process.
Then again...if everyone thought she was dead already...maybe she'd gotten lucky after all. Unless the old her really had died to get here.
V looked back up at Vik when he scooted back on his stool, facing her completely. "What're you trying to say, exactly?"
The cold feeling of the office, the quiet, Vik's shirt buttoned up all the way to his neck, it looked uncomfortable. The Vik she knew from two years ago would have just laughed at anyone who tried to tell him to button it up. Did he even have the little gold boxing glove necklace on anymore?
She wanted to see it, missed watching it swing and glint with light and the reminder of Vik as a person rather than just him as a ripper. It was almost like the clinic and Vik had been robbed of uniqueness and identity too, all in the sake of corporate unity.
Vik knew exactly what she meant. He had to.
"This Zetatech thing -- how'd you wind up caught in the web?"
He looked away, brow creasing and frown lines becoming more pronounced. "There was pressure, some threats, even... Resisting change seemed... senseless."
Bowing out when receiving threats? Submitting with no resistance? That didn't sound like...she was starting to sound like a glitchy BD, repeating the same shit over and over. Maybe the old V had died, but maybe somewhere along the way so had the old Vik.
His voice was so subdued, no easy acceptance and casual cock-sure shrugs of someone who couldn't care less, just... the way his shoulders were a bit slouched, hands resting between his legs, wouldn't look her in the eye when he said it...oh. Vik really had gone soft.
"Why? D'you decide you were incapable?" Of fighting back? Of caring?
He did shrug then, a defensive edge bleeding into his tone as he looked her in the eye again, though even through the lenses she could tell the stubborn gleam was missing. Vik just looked resigned.
"There came a day I realized my losses could be higher if I put my foot down." He moved back over to the screen before he finished talking, before she could respond.
"Ask Misty what she thought before you signed?"
"Of course I did." Finally, some frustration, as if it were obvious. V wasn't so sure what was and wasn't anymore, especially when it came to people.
"What'd she say?"
Just as quick as it appeared, his expression smoothed out with a sigh. "Well...she said a lot of things."
Oh, V could imagine. If Misty was thinking anything like V was now, and was still anything like the Misty she remembered, there was plenty to say.
"She is the sensitive sort..." Vik continued. "Changes, unpleasant ones, happening all around her... She stopped feeling good here, and no wonder."
Vik moved back again on the stool, slouching forward. He looked tired. Worn.
"I miss her." Vik shook his head. Did he ever miss V too? Wasn't really the time to ask, but there never was a good time when it came to that stuff between them. Though, that was likely purposeful on Vik's part, not that V could really blame him.
"Hope things work out for her. Hope they work out for all of us." Vik said, looking at nothing in particular, anywhere but at V.
He took a deep breath when V didn't say anything for a few moments, but she was just trying to find the right words.
"Think we could've chosen better, all of us?"
"No." His response was immediate, sure.
"Hm. No hesitation."
V wasn't nearly as confident in its truthfulness, but again, Vik never said anything he didn't mean. He surprised her though, when he turned to explain. She thought he'd just leave it at that, but clearly she didn't know him as well as she used to anymore.
"If there'd been better options, we'd have picked them...or convinced ourselves they weren't better at all."
"Vik - sensible as ever. And with achievable dreams. I never could settle on those."
Wasn't sayin' it in a negative way just... she was reachin' for the stars all the time, just like she did as a little girl out in the Badlands. But her stars had changed. They became people, places, aspirations that were always just out of grasp.
Her friends, either dead or emotionally distant from her. Vik, never had been interested in the first place. Goro, committed to his duties and endlessly loyal to the owners of his leash. Reed, hopelessly resigned to his station and doing what's right in the big picture, even if he ends up sacrificed in the meantime.
Becoming a legend in Night city, a dream only achievable by those who die or come close and then get lucky enough to live to tell the tale with chrome that still works.
V had gotten so close, so many times, and fell short on every single one.
Vik looked at her then. Something swimming in his gaze that his lenses made impossible to figure out. When he spoke his voice was even lower than before, all grit and gravitas. "You'll learn."
He looked away again before long, shaking his head. What did he mean by that? She'd learn to accept that she'd never get what she wished for in life? Ever? Hell of a pep talk, though that's not exactly what this was. But maybe he was right, she was learning. That she would never amount to anything in life, was as vulnerable and defenseless as she was as a young child, and completely and utterly worthless.
Something about the way he looked at her though, V felt like there was more to it than that. More he wanted to say, but as if suddenly remembering his past brevity, shut his mouth before he could. She wanted to ask, to push and probe further, but judging from the way he was tapping away at the screen again, it seemed he'd already moved on. Fine.
"If you say so..."
“Well, your core looks fine." Definitely moved on. V tried not to frown. "Good, even. Let's take a peek at your motor cortex."
He had forced that smile back to his face, where before it had seemed genuine, this one didn't reach his eyes. It faded further at the resounding error beeps echoing in the too-quiet room as those results started coming up.
With each new beep, that little voice in her head whispering what if got quieter and quieter.
Viktor tsked, troubled by whatever it was he saw. He 'hmmed' low in his chest, the sound not nearly as comforting as she usually found it. V knew exactly what the results were saying.
"Can't say I like that 'hm'." V's voice was just as dry, was tired too. Vik put his chin atop his fist, a pose she might have teased him for if not for the reason why he was doing it in the first place.
It was just like when she woke up after the chip, Vik's head in his hands, antsy and helpless in that he never quite knew what to do with them after that.
He never had too much of a problem delivering difficult news, hardened ex-boxer turned ripper-doc that he was, Vik had seen plenty of brutality, gore, and violence. Yet seeing him so unsure of everything other than that she was going to die had sent V for a loop, not mentioning the nature of the news itself. Shown clearly in the embarrassing desperate outburst afterward she wasn't sure her psyche would ever let her live down.
"First time I've seen anything like this..." Fuck, not that again too. "...Your cortex seems to have turned deaf to implant signals."
Hah. V wasn't surprised, and it really wasn't funny, but the urge to laugh made itself known regardless.
It was starting to feel like she was reliving one of the worst days of her life. This would be ranking up there too, if not for the warmth she felt when first seeing Vik again after so long and having him smile at her like he had. Maybe V was going soft too, or maybe she always had been. Today had been a fucking hurricane of different emotions, but compared to how she felt handing him that bottle compared to now, it was a hell of a come down.
Vik started muttering to himself, thinking out loud as he came up with ideas. All of them seemed to end with the high probability that V would end up flatlined, and he shot them down as fast as he thought of 'em.
V turned slightly on her side, just watching him trying to parse through it all. What would it be like if she were an engram in Vik's mind, she wondered. She'd always been curious about the kinds of things he thought about while working, trusted him completely yet wondered where his mind went to when he injected himself with that stabilizer before slicing her open with a morbid sort of curiosity.
When she was on a job, V's mind tended to tune everything out but the task at hand. Something about having one singular directive, even for a short while, was calming, peaceful. Like nothing in her life mattered in that moment other than doing her job. She wondered if soldiers felt like that sometimes, docs, hell even corpos. To get into the mindset that as long as one specific goal was accomplished, nothing and no one mattered as much as achieving it, just for a few hours, or even days, before coming back to real life.
Her curiosity was also more pointed, more egotistical, than that. She wished she could know for certain what Vik saw when he looked at her. She knew he would never lie to her to make her feel better, which was likely why he had never said anything at all, acted as if he didn't notice when she flirted with him and only tsked at her and shrugged her off when she tried to be at all tactile.
Because right now, watching his arm flex while he tapped at the screen and muttered to himself, V was thinking about sinking her teeth into the muscle. Climbing into his lap, popping open those unnecessary buttons and biting at his neck too. Vik was a very bitable man. A shame her bites were unwelcome.
But she wished she knew what he thought about her still. If he thought about her at all. Had he ever thought she was attractive, even for a passing moment? Did the thought of her being attracted to him make him uncomfortable? It was one of those things V tried not to think about much, but she thought she had lost everything two years ago, and then she managed to lose more still. How much more did she have to lose?
Viktor. She could still lose Viktor, after finally getting him back, but he wasn't the same, and neither was she. Was it worth it? At least asking him directly finally, letting him shoot her down point blank? Or... that voice came back, this time about something completely different. What if.
But then his shoulders hunched, despair written on his face just like it was that day and her horny delusions began to fade. She had been a dead woman walking for a long time, and now this was just another fate being sealed.
"Said you could do something, Vik..." The words seemed to zap something into him, or out of him, it was hard to tell.
V felt a bit like a ghost, or a memory echoing herself from long ago. The feeling of desperation that day, of being told she would likely die within the year, watching Vik turn his back on her and walk out calling for Misty to come deal with her instead...she could never ask him. Doesn't think she'd survive that resounding silence, low as she already felt now.
Seeing him turn toward her with that same hunched posture, it really did feel like history repeating itself. He couldn't look her in the eye again either. "I...I was wrong. I'm sorry."
But if V had really changed, then the way she responded this time could too. Almost like...righting the wrongs of her past. She felt more ready for the news now anyway, had scorched that desperate will to live inside of her like a match burning low until it singed fingers and the flame died out.
She almost wanted to reach out, brush his hand with hers or something equally ridiculous but she had learned from those mistakes too. "Please don't worry, Vik. Didn't come with high hopes anyway."
Not a slight on his talents of course, just...done with hopin' and dreamin'. That was for the old V. See? Aimin' for the achievable, she was already getting better at it.
She might have pointed that out to Vik too, but shoulders hunched, couldn't meet her gaze as he remained...this new Vik, a softer more resigned him might not find the dark humor in it.
He shook his head, like he knew exactly where her thoughts were wanderin' anyway.
"Not good. You have to believe there's something out there for you."
"Self-delusion, that's what you advise?"
Finally, Vik met her gaze. He held up a hand, like trying to settle her from getting worked up. V felt perfectly cool. Calm. Numb, even. The fight and anger had all but drained from her just the same as it had him.
"No. I just want you to accept your reality."
Wasn't that exactly what she was doing? He went on before she could ask just that.
"You've changed, yes... but you're alive." He said it like it was a miracle, something to still be grateful for, as if this was still her living.
Then something strange happened, just like some of his earlier smiles that didn't reach his eyes, a false, almost methodically calm cheeriness came to Vik's voice.
"Look at me - I had to adapt too. Still doin' what I love most though." He nodded like this was true, and for the first time, V doubted that Vik meant everything he said.
But he had said exactly this earlier. If there'd been better options, we'd have picked them...or convinced ourselves they weren't better at all.
Had Vik really convinced himself? That he was happy and satisfied with the life he was living now? That he hadn't changed? Maybe over the course of two years it felt like he hadn't, but time had passed so differently for V. Sure it had been a month or two since she'd spoken to Vik with her altered perception of time, but the man before her was nothing like the Viktor she had left behind.
Well, he was but he also wasn't. He was just different. Still the Viktor she was (rightfully) called pathetic by Johnny about, still had his same frown lines, memories, and interests. Still just as fit, same ink and booster scars etched into his arms. Just...lonelier. Like he was missin' something the old him still had.
"Just two years..." V jacked out of the machine, handing it back to him. "You may not see it. Time's passed different for me, so..."
She debated for a moment how to say it, if she should pop this little bubble of rationalism he had made for himself, but seeing that fake little smile on his face was painful. She couldn't leave Vik like this, deluding himself and calling it fulfillment.
"...I do see it - you're plain unhappy. Pretendin' to be your former self." That fake smile slid from his face as she spoke, and he looked at the floor, a real emotion flashing in its stead.
No simpler way of putting it out there than that. The old Vik would have been proud, grateful even, maybe. That V would be straight with him, call him out on his bs after clearly not havin' anyone around that cared about him enough to do just that for a long while.
The look on his face now...V's heart clenched, but she had to. Whatever he had been tellin' himself, it wasn't real. Vik cleared his throat, a muscle jumping in his shoulder that made him almost flinch, like shaking off a blow, and the simple vulnerability in the action made her heart clench again, chest tight.
"...you really think so?" The words came out, just loud enough to not be a whisper, but betraying that same vulnerability. This was new, it was all new, like getting to know him all over again.
V opened her mouth to respond, hadn't fully thought out exactly what to say next but then again what else was new, when a woman barged into the clinic, calling out his name.
She stumbled slightly, clearly had some sort of injury, and V tensed immediately in the chair.
"Vektor, come on quick. I ran into trouble. Need surgery. It's my-" The woman speaking paused when she noticed V's presence. She had a slight accent, but not one V could definitively pinpoint.
"Ah. Are you running late?" The woman had on fishnets, and thigh high armored boots. Her hair was shaved and dyed green, sunglasses on her head, with new chrome glinting in the dim neon lights. V was hit with a wave of disappointment.
She still thought her and Viktor might open up that bottle, though after everything she had learned about the new him, opening up that bottle here might really have been off the table from the start. At the very least she wished to continue their conversation, didn't want it to end on such a sour note. The sentiment seemed shared, if Vik's attempt at bargaining said anything.
"I can't now Tyler. Drop in tomorrow." He said the words softly, politely, not at all like she used to hear him bark at someone to get out when he didn't want to be disturbed and their wounds were clearly not fatal.
Whatever the woman's problem was, she had no problem standing at attention in front of the chair, looking between the two and not even trying to hide sizing V up in the slightest. Not that V looked intimidating anymore. Probably couldn't even fake it right now if she tried.
"'Drop in tomorrow'?" The woman repeated, tilting her head as if the request was troubling.
"This is my friend." Vik said in that same soft tone, measured. "No affiliation to the firm. Come back later, please, it's..."
V blinked quickly in surprise, a bit annoyed at herself that every new thing was still catching her off guard even after acknowledging the difference, but...Viktor Vektor saying 'please' to a troublesome person demanding attention when he was in the middle of something?
V had only ever heard him say the words genuinely a couple of times since meeting him. Once, to an elderly homeless woman who needed medical attention and was attempting to wave him off despite coming to the clinic herself in the first place. Once more, in the real early days of her coming to NC, when a young boy attempted to steal one of his trophies to show off to his friends, and fell running in terror thinking the Night City legend Viktor Vektor was going to come after him and beat him to a bloody pulp for it. (V is pretty sure the kid ended up getting to keep that trophy too for having the guts, and V first realized there was a 'soft' side to Vik at all.)
The last time, was when V had gotten way too drunk and Jackie dropped her off at the clinic for an IV to sober her up, then stumbled home himself. V had been particularly stubborn that night, or so Vik told her later, and she demanded he ask her nicely to get into the chair for her IV, which she did after he said 'please'. She had been both horrified and secretly pleased with herself that she actually got him to say it, though had definitely blacked out by that point and doesn't remember details. She's pretty sure Vik only told her to tease or scold her for it, the two sounded shockingly similar sometimes with him. But it sounded 'bout right.
Still, a small part of her had been proud, that she had apparently gotten to see a side of him no one else ever did. That he had been good to her when no one else in Night city likely would have been with a young woman in that state, disgusting reality as it was. Now, she realized just how empty of meaning it really had been, clinging to a memory she didn't even have like it made her special to him.
Then V snapped out of her little zoning out episode again.
"...it's important to me."
V looked away from the woman, glancing at Vik when he said it. Was it important to him? Not important enough to get her an appointment of her own, just a little note, though she hadn't given him any specifics and their talk had been both recent and brief. This one hadn't been especially long either, couldn't hope to be a full catch up after so long of not seeing him.
V was still Vik's friend though, all of the hapless pathetic pining and her stupid useless optics aside, he was the only one still happy to see her. Couldn't she just be thankful for that?
"Hm," the woman said, still standing at attention, full of an entitlement that made V itch to put her in her place. Not an option anymore. "You got it wrong man. You're on contract."
"Tyler, please."
Twice? He really said it twice?
"Vektor, nothing personal, you know. But you sew me up now, or I'll file a complaint."
V cleared her throat, no point in escalating things. This was her life now, a fucking mediator and de-escalator. Fuck, if Johnny could see her now.
"Got a patient, Vik. Don't worry about me." She got up out of the chair, turning to offer Vik a weak smile.
Leaving things like this sucked, but if these new corpos were as strict as they seemed, him getting a complaint just so she could stay and keep tellin' him how unhappy he was...definitely not worth it. Just wished she could've left on a better note, 's all. Especially since now...well V could die any day, same as before, but that indefinite timer had reset to include a way likelier chance of death at the hands of somethin' much simpler than fixers or a soulkiller engram.
Hell, she could die tonight. Killed in a drive by, or something where she wasn't even the target. Embarrassing, humiliating, and her new reality she apparently had to just accept.
Vik sighed, still sitting on his stool. "V...you can't know how sorry I am."
She didn't doubt it, despondent and tired. He couldn't know just how sorry she was to leave him like this too.
"Vektor." The woman demanded, again. What a cunt, is what Johnny would've likely said. V would have agreed with him, probably would have said it to her face too, two years ago.
Vik barely spared the woman a glance, eyes trained on V, but she was on her way out anyway.
"Hey, swing by to see me anytime, yeah?" The fact that Vik was so convinced she'd live long enough to do that was...sweet. Hopeful, even if completely unrealistic. But hey, wasn't that what she just called him out on anyway?
And if this really did end up being goodbye...
V tried to offer him a more sincere smile, one she didn't use very often because she knew how it made her look. Vulnerable, young. That was alright though, just for right now. Though she had a sneaking suspicion it was more sad than sincere.
Vik hadn't liked when she tried to go for a hug in the past, or the rare few times she had tried to plant a kiss on his cheek jokingly, so she reached out a hand for him to shake. This felt safe, a parting sign of mutual respect and familiarity if nothing else. "'Course. 'Course, I'll drop by."
Vik stood immediately, taking her hand, but not giving it the firm shake she was expecting. She jerked their hands down in an imitation of one, not letting herself focus on how warm or large his was for her own sake, but Vik added no real grip, just kinda...held her hand, and didn't let go. V paused, unsure of what to do.
Yanking her hand away wasn't really the message she wanted to get across, but Vik's expression was strange again. Almost placid, pleasantly neutral, but he still didn't let go. Not for the first time, V wished she could see his eyes. The shades suited him, had always made him look cool even when on others she thought they looked like posers, Johnny included. But she wanted to see his eyes just so she could try again to figure out what he was thinking.
Wasn't the time or place, the woman tapping her foot to the left of them silently screaming of impatience, but V stepped closer.
Vik's hand around hers finally tightened for a moment, maybe gearing up to let go and end the brief contact, pry her hand out of his if he had to. But V didn't move back, stubborn in needing to do this if she ended up flatlined, removed from each other's life again before even truly becoming reacquainted. V could hardly imagine mourning someone twice. Losing Jackie once had almost been enough to break her. What would Vik do? At least he'd hopefully have a body this time around to bury.
V reached up, carefully. Bypassing his glasses, V only cupped his cheek with the hand not still holding his.
Her thumb traced, gently, across the slight stubble on Vik's face. She tried to memorize his frown lines more closely, the creases of age around his face, the thickness of his brows behind the lenses, the small spots of uneven skin on his cheek. Her eyes traced the long scar on his chin, the curve of his lips, up to another scar across the bridge of his nose.
She wished she had more time. Wished she could have done this a long time ago, or at least not felt so rushed as she did now, almost frantically trying to remember all the details...just in case. The temptation to kiss him was strong, could at least die knowin' what it was like, but she couldn't risk souring her memory for him. Having him shrug her off and that be it, just because she was being greedy. All the while, her thumb traced a small sweep back and forth over his cheek, the pressure barely there at all.
The entire moment probably lasted barely fifteen seconds, and it felt both longer and shorter than that, impossibly. Finally, she began to pull the hand at his cheek away, tracing down the side of his face and brushing across his bottom lip. It was so fucking unfair she couldn't kiss him. V laid that same palm on his chest for a moment, wished she could feel his heartbeat but hers was already thundering far too frantic a pace to really focus. She had pushed her luck enough already.
Then, V pulled away, her hand slipping from Vik's with an uncomfortable ere of finality. He released her immediately, and a stoic face that was all too familiar met her. His posture was rigid, spine straight and large frame almost intimidatingly still. That awful silence she had feared descended upon the room with a frightening clarity.
Definitely her cue to delta the fuck outta there.
The woman must have stopped tapping her foot at some point, V hadn't even noticed, and also didn't spare the woman another glance as she turned and headed out of the room, pulse nearly tripping over itself in embarrassment.
"Close the door on your way out, ok?" Vik's voice was gravel again, low and final. V didn't need to be told twice.
~
It was official.
The new V lasted all of 3 minutes in Night City violence free. But this time it wasn't even her fault.
She vaguely remembers two guys showing up, pretty sure they were the same pieces of scop shit that had called out to her on her way to the clinic. V hadn't paid them any mind, usually that was enough for people to get the hint, and if it wasn't, a knife to the throat did it.
Not an option anymore. Can't survive in my environment, so what's the point?
V woke up on the ground groggily, pain bloomin' on her face, her lip, her body aching something awful. Breathin' hurt, immediately turning and coughing up blood, palms digging into the wet dirty pavement. How many times had she been here before? Wakin' up just to puke, or to spit out blood and just carry on with her day?
That used to be normal. Maybe it never should have been. Maybe it wasn't for people who were normal. Whose brains worked how they were s'posed to.
Pain inhibitors gone, her entire body felt blindingly raw, almost bright.
So much for gettin' that fix with little water droplets in the car. She was on her hands and knees, spittin' out more blood, and decided once and for all pain wasn't her thing. There was a ringing in her ears, head fuzzy with nausea and an ache that made moving her neck not an option or else she might vomit.
Mugged and punched down a flight of stairs. Wished she could say it's good to be home, but wasn't sure this place fit the description anymore. And it wasn't feelin' so good to be back.
A voice came through the delirium. Misty?
At least V thought it was, the whole conversation and sounds started blurrin' together along with her vision. Fuck, the fall messed her up good.
Misty looked different. As shocked to see V as she was to still be alive.
She was wearin' Jackie's old jacket...looked good on her. Fit right.
They caught up a bit, as much as V could while still feelin' dizzy with a migraine that felt like her skull might split in two. She could tell her lip was busted, felt the pain arc up through her cheek as she spoke, tasted somethin' metallic. Wasn't a hard guess. Breathin' hurt like a bitch too, broken rib? Bruised?
She couldn't tell, fresh as the full realm of her capacity to feel it again was, it could have been either.
What V does remember was Misty sayin' she told Vik he'd gone soft, hadn't parted on the best of terms, clearly. V agreed with her, but after seein' Vik like he had been... partin' on bad terms was never good.
Sensory flashes came back to her then too. The prick of Vik's stubble against her palm, the feel of his hand over hers, his blank expression. V slumped down against the wall, changed her mind. Dyin' right there right now might not be so bad.
Misty started talkin' about Poland and ancient forests she was gonna go see when the urge to vomit returned. V turned on her side, gagging, vision blurring once more with either tears or somethin' worse and suddenly she was bein' supported up and led back up those goddamn stairs.
Fuckin' piece of shit stupid ass stairs. V had never felt the urge to curse out a staircase, might've been mutterin' some of that aloud from the way Misty's expression was growin' increasingly worried.
V could barely cling on to the woman beside her. Only a day or so ago, how long had she been lyin' there unconscious? V could barely walk after wakin' up from a fuckin' coma. Now she could barely walk for another stupid ass reason. At this point, all of it endin' sounded pretty good to her.
"Js leave m...on th'ground." V mumbled, not sure when they reached the top of the stairs or where they were goin'. "B...better-"
"V? Better? What's better?"
"-this way-"
The flash of green neons and more stairs, this time goin' down which was both a relief and terrible, had somethin' familiar pingin' in the back of her brain. Fuck, her head hurt like hell.
Those familiar cage doors were slidin' open, and the last thing she remembered was a loud crash and her face collidin' with the floor.
~
The world came back in flashes.
First, there were sounds. The roll of a stool, low murmurs, a hushed goodbye and a kiss pressed to her forehead.
Misty?
Then her eyes fluttered open, struggled to keep them that way as overhead lights blinded her. V hissed under her breath, a hand immediately flying to her ribs when they ached from her darin' to breathe.
More blur, she wasn't sure how much time had passed, if Misty had really been there at all. Where was she now? Just a broken body bein' carted around at this point.
The sound of wheels rolling on smooth flooring drew louder, or maybe it was just closer.
Before she knew it, an eyelid was bein' pulled open, another bright light shined way too close and she shoved whoever it was away from her in a panic. Her push was weak, but she made contact with something because they made a sound.
She heard a grunt, a familiar one, and the light fell away.
"What...?" V blinked some more, the familiar walls but foreign new look of Vik's clinic comin' into focus. "What the...hell, Vik?"
V's throat was so dry, voice uncomfortably hoarse.
He didn't say anything, but rolled his stool closer, brows bunched together so tight it looked painful.
"What's that 'xpression for?" She gritted out, swallowing painfully. "Look like you seen a ghost."
V tried for a laugh, then broke into a coughing fit. A glass of water was held up to her lips almost immediately, another hand gently coaxing her head back to take a drink. She did so greedily, nearly choked on that too.
"Misty said she found you passed out in an alley. What the hell happened? Someone do this to you?"
"Huh." So Misty was really there.
Vik's frown deepened. "Yes, V. Misty was here. Are you experiencing hallucinations?"
V scoffed, the sound only slightly less dry, but her throat already felt like it was in better shape. "I wish."
If Johnny were here, he'd have laid into her about letting a couple'a gonks get the best of her. She needed one of his pep talks right now. The kind that forced reality down her throat in an uncomfortable way. Because she was still havin' a real hard time swallowin' it all.
This was her life now. Couldn't defend herself, couldn't even walk down the fuckin' street.
Vik sighed, looked even more exhausted and worried than before. He handed her the glass of water and got up from the stool, started fiddlin' around with tools in a way that seemed uncharacteristically antsy, all silent and broody.
"What's got you all bent outta shape?"
He tossed the current scalpel in his hand down on the metal tray with extra force than was necessary, hands goin' down to his hips and not lookin' at her. Was he angry?
V had never seen Vik genuinely pissed, was more of a silent seether than anythin'. But V had seen the messages he sent those scavengers, knew that he had limits same as anyone. How was it that old Vik was the calm and controlled one, and this new 'soft' Vik was gettin' mad with a patient in his clinic? That didn't add up.
"I lived, didn't I?" Barely. Sure felt like death right now, but for better or for worse, she was.
He turned around, dark lenses glintin' in the dim light, mouth drawn tight. After a few tense moments, he rubbed a hand over his forehead, heavy breath leavin' him before he came back over to her bedside.
"How do you feel?" His voice was gentle, even when his expression wasn't. V shifted, not likin' how soft he spoke to her, like she was breakable and needed comforting.
Was she? Did she?
"Like I got hit by a bus."
A tiny, almost microscopic quirk came to the corner of his lips. A shadow of one of his lop-sided smiles. He took a seat on the corner of the bed, hands folded between his spread legs just lookin' at her.
"Seems like you did. Gave you some pain meds, might make you a bit drowsy when they kick in."
V huffed, a mix of thankful and annoyed, then winced when her side protested. "Two punks tried to rob me. Didn't give it to 'em and so I got punched down a flight of stairs."
It sounded ridiculous. Embarrassing. Exactly the sort of thing she had been anticipating. Didn't make admittin' it any easier though.
Vik frowned again. "Just came back from the dead..." She heard what he was implying loud and clear. Back, and already stirring up trouble.
As if she had any control over what happened. They probably would have done the same even if she had given them the eddies.
V wanted to throw her hands up, shrug or scream or something that would only make her body ache worse. She could still feel the swelling in her lip, hot and bitterly metallic every time she spoke.
"Knew this would happen." She gazed at the wall next to her, couldn't stand the way he was lookin' at her anymore. "Couldn't even fight back."
Her voice got softer in a way that she hated, but the feeling of helplessness hit her all over again. She clenched her fists tightly, a low thrum of fear makin' itself known. Nothin' worse than feelin' helpless and scared. Part of her wished she hadn't woken up from the fall. Or even from the coma.
And then another part of her acknowledged just how crazy that sounded. Was still just glad to be breathin' and have her brain to herself again. Why was there no win? No way out?
"V..."
"I'm tired of this."
The wall had a couple of cracks poorly covered in grey plaster to try and blend them in. It didn't work. The divots were visible, spiderwebbing up the side and through the structure. No tellin' how deep they ran. If it would crumble with a bit more weight or pressure and bring the whole building down with it.
"Of what?"
"This." The pain, the fear, uncertainty, helplessness, being awake. "I'm tired, Vik."
A heavy sigh. A pat to her ankle through the blanket. Would have felt condescending, but...
"Me too, kid."
They sat in silence for a moment. Didn't matter how much was fucked up, V still felt comforted by his presence. Was one of the few people who ever had that effect on her.
She thought maybe he'd get up, busy himself with another task, but after a while Vik's voice had the same vulnerable openness to it as it did when she pointed out how unhappy he was.
"You stopped comin' to see me. Before."
V's head snapped toward him, attention turning away from the cracks in the wall.
"Felt like I hardly ever saw you. Then...you were gone."
V's throat squeezed, dry and needing water again but she just held the glass closer to her chest, almost protective.
"Vik..." She began, unsure exactly where to start, and equally unsure of the delicate territory they were suddenly treading.
"After Jackie- I tried Vik, but it's just-" Which reason could she even settle on? Laid out before her like she just had to pick the right option, but none of them felt right.
You could barely even look at me when I did.
I couldn't keep actin' like everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.
You don't want me like I want you.
Didn't want to keep botherin' ya.
"You don't gotta explain yourself to me, kiddo." Vik shot her a small smile when she trailed off. Just like all the other ones he had been. Empty, it didn't reach his eyes. And calling her 'kiddo' again, as if she needed to be reminded how he felt about her.
She didn't even want to think of that moment before she left. Whatever that parting 'let me touch and memorize your face in case I never see you again' moment had been.
His blank expression, telling her to shut the door on her way out, fuck. She was really determined to make an ass of herself, and then go and let herself be killed by some no-name on the street. But then, exactly what she feared would happen, did.
She hadn't even made it all the way down the block before she got jumped. If Misty hadn't found her...well...
"At least you made it back to me in one piece... again." Vik got off the bed and plopped back down on his stool, rolling it back over to her vitals screen when V still didn't speak, back to moving casual as always, though his humor sounded forced.
These past two years really had seemed to have hollowed something out in him, but V couldn't really guess what that space in him used to be.
He seemed...older. Not just in years, but like some of his vitality had been drained. He was depressed, clear as day. At least to someone else who has been too. Maybe still was, if her recent death wish was any indication.
"Just," he sighed. "Wanted you to know I noticed. Missed ya. I'm..." Vik paused, gripped the side of the screen. "...really glad you're alive."
That shot something through her. Mostly surprise. Also guilt, in the fact that it had been purposeful avoidance on her part. Even glee, with confirmation that he had missed her, wanted her around. It was a good fucking feeling, to know her presence had actually been missed by someone. But then she thought of everyone else who had moved on, compared to Vik.
V was a selfish asshole.
"Missed you too," she muttered. He glanced over at her, the fake smile gone.
Vik had said he missed Misty too. And nothin had really felt right since Jackie anyway. What was it called when your list of missing people just kept growin'? V was getting a pretty good sense, waking up to realize everyone she had once thought was a friend was either dead or moved on with new lives.
She had only had to deal with that knowledge for a couple of days, but Vik had been mourning them all for much longer than that. She thought of what he had said at Jackie's ofrenda, how at his age, everyone was just goin'. Who else had Vik loved and lost? People V had never, or would never, get to meet that had meant a lot to him. Did Vik feel abandoned too?
V's heart thudded, pulse jumping at the thought, and Vik's eyes snapped to the vitals screen in front of him. There was a brief flash of emotion on his face as he did, like the sudden change scared him. At least enough to send him into alert doc mode.
"You're all I got left Vik." She whispered.
It took a beat before he looked at her again, but that was alright. There wasn't anything in particular she wanted him to say, but it felt good to say aloud. He meant so much to her. Always had, even if a lot of those feelings never saw the light of day.
Here he still was, still savin' her like he always has. Completely ignoring how so soon after comin' back she had gone and made shit awkward between them again, V fucking something else up and Vik coming in to save the day anyway.
Slowly, her eyelids began to grow heavier while Vik just sat in his chair, silent and watching. Maybe it was just the meds, but V felt her muscles becomin' lethargic, limbs feelin' heavier. She couldn't tell if the pain was dulling, but there was a slightly fuzzy feeling spreading through her, very different from when she had hit her head.
The neon lights created a weird sort of halo around the doc, and V let out a very uncharacteristic sounding laugh, one that sounded much more like a giggle.
V didn't giggle, alright? She did not do that shit, Johnny. But as she started to go under, for a second it looked like Vik was glowing, like he really was her guardian angel. Definitely the drugs, had to be.
Just before she fully went under, V saw Vik's lips moving.
Either that part of her brain had already shut off, or he was whispering too low to hear, because she couldn't make out the words.
But before she could think too much about it, V's eyes fluttered shut and she was out.
Again.
~
Vik made her stay an extra day to heal.
Without her normal chrome, that punch might have done enough damage, but the fall down the stairs had done far more. Her ribs were badly bruised, lip busted, and had random scrapes and cuts littering her arms, legs, and back. Judging by the pain in her cheekbone, there would probably be a deep bruise bloomin' there too.
But the pain in her head had disappeared the moment she had woken up this morning, still in the clinic. And now Vik was tellin' her she had to stay one more night so he could keep monitoring her for a concussion or swelling. The rest of her body still ached enough that she didn't protest much.
Vik had moved her to another bed, out of view from the main office for most of her second day there while he saw to other patients that came in. She slept for most of it, which was more than she could say for Vik. He had already been awake when she woke up that morning, and something told her he had slept in the clinic too. If he had slept at all.
There were circles under his eyes visible even with his shades, and the polite voice he had been usin' with patients, which she still found both hilarious and odd, was definitely more tired than before. He didn't speak to most of them much at all other than the initial greeting and confirming the procedure though.
For the first time, Vik's clinic and demeaner really did feel...well, clinical. Impersonal. Another new part of him, or at least a new side of him she hadn't seen before.
It was almost like getting a look into his head while he was working, kinda what she had been wonderin' before, only the silence was...unexpected.
He didn't hum to himself or talk, there was an occasional mutter but it was so low even just across the room she had no idea what he said. Either he was hyper aware of her presence enough to change his routine, or this was normal.
Maybe in the past he at least had the drone of a fight in the background or something, but it was a little unnerving. Nothing but the whirr of his tools and glove or the hum and crank of a machine and the disgusting squelch of slicing someone open. How had he kept his head so straight on his shoulders for so long? V couldn't imagine doin' this, day in and day out, much less in near total silence.
It definitely gave her a new perspective on the work of a ripper at least. No wonder so many of them had some screws loose.
V had sat in a couple of times before while Vik worked on Jackie, but they had chatted throughout most of it. Was this how it always was when no one else was there, or was this how it always was now?
She already couldn't differentiate the two anymore. Was gettin' a little sick of the comparisons.
Regardless, she still slept the majority of the day. But it was the day after, when Vik had definitely slept on the couch in the office and they took turns in the clinic bathroom, that he said she needed to stay one more night and her suspicions started mounting.
The whole thing could have been much worse, in fact, that could have been it if V's 'ganic body didn't still remember how to take a fall. At least that's what it seemed like, considering nothin' had been broken when it definitely could have been.
But again, nothin' broken or even sprained, so she didn't really get Vik's insistence. If she hadn't gotten a concussion by now, it was highly doubtful it would develop suddenly after two days of healin' bruises.
She was up and walking fine, yet he still said she couldn't go until tomorrow. Said it was doctor's orders when she started to question him. V might have been annoyed if it was anyone else, but it was Vik.
He checked on her frequently, and they were able to actually catch up on some of the little things between his appointments the third day.
She found out he had just moved his TV further into the back when Zetacorp told him to get rid of it, and that a new boxing themed bar had opened up and hosted amateur fight nights. Apparently, they had hung up a pic of Vik on the wall, and as soon as he walked in and saw it, he walked right back out.
V told him he was bein' dramatic, they had a legend on their walls for a reason, but Vik changed the subject. He told her mama Welles' bar was still up and running, and V made a silent promise to go see her as soon as she could.
They'd had a funeral for V half a year ago too.
Apparently, when she'd been missin' for well over a year with a terminal brain, conclusions had to be drawn. That had been...well, difficult to process. And surreal. And weird. V wondered who all showed up, what sorta things people had been sayin' and if anyone gave a speech, but Vik had gotten all solemn again so it was her that changed the subject this time.
That night, V started to go a little stir crazy.
She had just spent two years in a hospital bed, and wasn't overly fond of spendin' days at a time trapped in another one so soon. She had only gotten up to use the clinic washroom a handful of times, had freshened up with a spare toothbrush and thankful there was a shower, but there hadn't been much else to do. She had changed into some spare clothes Vik had brought her that morning, but the walls were starting to feel like they were closin' in.
Vik distracted her with takeout food.
He turned on an old boxing tape, both of them eating from plastic containers and sittin' on the couch, and V felt some tiny little thing deep inside of her mendin' itself back together.
After the food had been finished and cleared, they had started chatting again, the fights fading into the background while V had finally pleadid' enough about how healed she was that Vik broke out beers for them both and they did the quietest secret beer clink of all time.
Zetatech had put new cameras in the office, Vik had also explained, but they only had sound during business hours. The one back here he had disabled, and that had comforted V a lot. Not the cameras, but knowing Vik was still rebellin' in little ways. The fight hadn't left him completely.
Not so new after all. Just...different.
Misty had told him goodbye too after she helped V to the clinic and Vik got her stable. He acted like it wasn't a big deal, more of a formality when he said it, but V could tell it meant a lot to him. Maybe the two hadn't talked everything out, but some type of closure was always nice.
She was going to do her own thing in Poland, search for her happiness and purpose somewhere new. V was happy for her.
"Ya know...I don't know if I ever really wanted to become a legend. Or a merc."
They were three beers in, and V felt a faint buzz. Usually it took a lot more, but it seemed a multiple year coma was enough to reset the body's tolerance. Would save her eddies, she supposed. It still wasn't nearly enough to be actually drunk, but enough that the conversation had taken a slightly introspective turn. She had no idea what time it was.
"What did you wanna be?"
"When I was a kid, always thought I'd grow up to be a hunter."
Not so different, she supposed, although one was to feed her clan and what she ended up as only fed her pockets. Both meant survivin' at least.
Another old boxing match was on, a 'Legacy' fight Vik called it. V watched as a solid uppercut nearly snapped a guy's neck with how fast it flew back. The slo-mo replay was brutal, spit flying and a gush of blood spewin' out. Nice.
Vik had been tryin' to tell her the different names and backgrounds of the fighters too, but her brain could only take so much new info and only bits and pieces had really been retained. Enough to understand that this fight had a lot ridin' on it, and the win was well deserved.
Vik chuckled. "I could see that. Probably was the scariest little kid in the Badlands."
V smirked, taking another sip of her beer. "Eh, I was a decent shot, but after my dad...well it sorta lost its appeal. Then handful years down the road Snake Nation took over and I lost my taste for the life entirely."
"Hm. I remember when you burst through my door that first time with Jack. Still can't believe you two met tryin' to sneak some lizard on ice past border patrol."
He brought up Jackie so casually now. Maybe some of the differences while she was out were good, compared to before. It was nice to reminisce. Vik even smiled at the memory, but it faded before long. When he spoke, his voice had a more serious edge to it again.
"Is that why you ended up becoming one? Because of Jack?"
V considered, but shook her head. "Nah, was already headed down that path anyway doin' other deals smugglin' stuff. Just made sense back then, 'specially havin' him as my partner. We had a certain chemistry." She thought of his words after that first failed job. Jackie had been right.
"Why not stick to smuggling?" It wasn't said in a judgmental way, just curious.
"Just wanted to be remembered I guess. Jack would talk about bein' a legend and the longer I was here, the more that sounded right. Just the way to do it. Needed eddies, so why not?"
"Lucky you found a damn good ripper that fixed up all that rusted chrome."
"'Course. Had the best ripper in NC on my side, knew I was always in good hands." V winked at him, and polished off the rest of her beer.
"You know, I'm a little surprised." Vik admitted, shaking his head. "Whole time I've known you I thought you took to this city easy as breathin'. Not something most can say. Could've mistaken you for a streetkid."
"Guess some things weren't too different growin' up where I did. We were always on the move, but survivin' out there ain't easy either. The freedom was nice though. Miss it sometimes."
She'd gotten used to the noise, but quiet and peaceful wasn't soundin' so bad these days. V didn't really know what that meant for her though.
"Never been out of NC myself, to be honest." V's brows shot up, but Vik just laughed at the look while finishin' his own bottle. "Ah, don't look at me like that - born and raised here proud."
"Not even for a fight?" She wondered aloud.
There were plenty here, but it was still surprisin' to hear. Vik always knew so much about life, especially on the streets, it was kinda funny to imagine him in the outlands scratchin' his head lookin' at a map. "Thought some sorta championship might have at least made you travel outside city limits."
"Nope. Hear about some every now and again, but've never made the trip. Had a bike some years back, but it was just collectin' dust in a garage so I sold it. Haven't really had a reason to leave since."
"Soon as I get a new bike, maybe I'll take you for a joyride out there some time." V said it like a joke, but picturin' it was nice. She missed riding, and if Vik had never left the city, he'd probably never seen what a clear night sky looked like. That just wasn't right.
"I'll show you the stars. A whole world of constellations up there, Vik. Puts some things into perspective."
Sounded like exactly the kind of thing she needed right now too.
Vik had an arm lazily thrown over the back of the couch, his injection hole scars facin' her. She studied them, itching to trace one and feel if it was raised, ask him if they ever hurt, but the air between them felt good, comfortable. Startin' to try and trace his arm might mean the night was over, and V didn't wanna think about tomorrow yet.
Stir crazy as she may feel, spendin' so much time with Vik was...well two years ago she would have laughed if someone told her where she would be now. Up and not dying but with no chrome, yet at Vik's side for days on end at his own insistence. Maybe that fall down the stairs had killed her, and none of this was actually happening. Would have been more plausible to old her.
"Hey Vik... why'd you choose to become a ripper?"
He huffed a laugh, but shifted like he was uncomfortable. "Call it my youthful rebellion. All my friends at the time were gunnin' to be somebody."
Sounded awful familiar. His voice was dry as he continued, "I helped 'em, fixed 'em, their bodies, minds. Though, actually just postponed the moment of their irreparable destruction."
His head had lowered by the end of it, staring down at the ground. 'Damn, Vik' didn't seem like a good enough response.
"Yeah," she offered instead. "Corpos burnout fast, fast as hell."
"Well, I don't get attached to them at least."
That would explain the detached, professional way she had heard him speakin' to them earlier. But that mean he gets attached to other patients then? Her fingers twitched, she needed another beer.
"What made you realize?"
His words caught her off guard for a moment, still thinkin' about whether a fourth beer would be pushin' it.
V dragged her gaze back to Vik's face, cocking her head at the question. Sensing her confusion, Vik continued. "Not wanting to be a legend. What took ya down that road?"
She thought back.
"I dunno. Just been thinkin' the past couple of days here and did. Hasn't been much else to do but think."
She smiled, wry and a little bitter. "When I woke up and none of my old friends wanted to even see me, 'cept you I mean, body rejecting parts of my everyday life, I've just been rethinkin' everything really."
She kept zoning out too. Maybe that was some sort of coma side effect that would go away eventually. She hoped it would. V was tired of getting trapped in her own damn head.
Then she was spillin' more, words tumbling out of her before she could stop them.
"I think I always just wanted people to think about me and feel somethin' you know? Even if it wasn't always good. Got it mixed up with this idea of greatness. But now I'm...like this and I don't...know how to..."
She thought back to her talk with Misty, the way Misty had worded things. "...just be 'another face in the crowd' and feel satisfied with that anymore. Getting so close to doing something actually substantial. Knowing I never will be."
"Never will be what?"
"Remembered. Respected. Loved." V paused, then scrunched up her face. "Dunno, that sounds real pathetic, doesn't it?"
"No."
Huh, V didn't usually hear a 'no' to that question.
"You're young." Vik sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. "You'll meet plenty more people. Love and lose more too. But I don't think anyone will be forgettin' you anytime soon, kid."
"They already have Vik. No one knows me here anymore, just got mugged because I couldn't even prove it. And the ones who do remember who I am just want my head on a stick."
Vik made a face at the mental image, but then chuckled drily. "Thought you said you wanted to be remembered even if it wasn't always good."
"Sure, but there's a difference between 'dislike' and 'we want to pull your teeth and fingernails off while torturing you to death'."
Vik's chuckle tapered off, the reality of how much danger she was in settling on both their shoulders.
Sure Vik was 'ganic too, but he had enough reputation and experience he didn't need to worry like she did. At least he hadn't before, but if the threats were gettin' so bad that he felt he had no choice but to sell out to a corp...the city had changed faster than either of them could keep up.
Misty had told her basic survival shit she already knew, but V had too many powerful enemies, it wasn't the same. Gangers were everywhere, and she had pissed just about all of them off except maybe the Mox.
"Where are you staying V? When you leave here?"
V winced. In her rush to get back to Night city, to see Vik again and 'come home', she hadn't thought much about how she didn't have much of a 'home' to go to.
V had no scratch, her H10 apartment near here and the one in Japantown had definitely been repossessed, and her very distinct skillset wasn't one she could use anymore for any type of employment that wouldn't get her killed.
"Don't, uh...don't know yet. But I'll figure it out. Always've been good with cars and bikes, could maybe get a job at a garage. Or a butcher shop." She laughed, but it rang bitter.
"You're not thinkin' about sleepin' on the street..."
"I don't-" V tamped down her frustration. "Don't gotta lot of options right now Vik. I'll squat somewhere, I dunno. Talk to mama Welles maybe, stay in-" She couldn't stay in Jack's room like before. It was too...it wasn't an option. Another tick on her list of reasons she knows she won't last a month back.
"You do. Stay at my place. I can find somewhere else for a bit 'til you get back on your feet."
She shot him a look. "Not kickin' you outta your home Vik."
He gave her another soft but tired smile. "Doesn't do an old man's heart any good to think of you out there, kid."
She considered...it would help her out a lot, might give her a fighting chance, at least for a little while longer but...
"Already done so much for me, Vik." V's voice lowered, humbled and embarrassed to be here at all. "I can't ask-"
"You didn't. I'm offerin'. Please, V."
Please.
V chewed on her bottom lip, conflicted and feelin' insane. Vik cared enough about her to open up his own home when she was in a rough spot...her stomach gave a little flutter. Living with Vik.
"If you're offerin' this to me out of pity, I-"
Vik sighed, rubbing another tired hand over his face. "I'm not. Don't know how well I'll sleep at night wonderin' if you're dead again, V. I can't..." His voice softened. "...can't live through another funeral for you. Please, just so I know you're safe until you figure out what you wanna do."
V stared at Vik, lips parted. What was it like to lose someone twice? He had been sleepin' here, said it was to monitor her if she got a concussion but...was he just sayin' that because he wanted to check she was still breathin'? So he could make sure?
She thought of when she put her hand on his chest, wanted to feel his heartbeat. It was the little reassurances sometimes.
"Just 'till I save up a little. Then I'll be outta your hair."
"What hair?"
A shocked laugh escaped her, offended on his behalf. Had one thinnin' spot in the back, and suddenly actin' like he was bald. "Chest hair then."
Vik cracked a lopsided grin, stretched back out on the couch like breathin' came easier all of a sudden. V felt the opposite, tryin' not to overthink what livin' with Vik would be like.
It was just temporary.