#sad corpo v noises

[krusekis]

"I've lost everything, Jack..."

[elvenbeard]

Timing

Summary: Kerry and V keep missing each other's calls, and need to work on their communication. Kerry decides to investigate what's going on with V, but is not prepared for what he will find. (Post-Sun-Ending, Chapter 2/?, 4003 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V) >> Previous Chapter

“Are you fucking shitting me?” Kerry cursed when once again all he got on the holo was the goddamn voicemail. This time he didn’t leave a message, angrily hung up, and only just resisted the urge to fling his phone off the studio roof.

“You need to work on your fuckin’ timin’, V,” he muttered, pacing around the rooftop terrace as he lit up a cigarette. Once he’d noticed the missed calls – despite everything it had been a really good day recording today – he’d immediately dropped everything to run outside. The reception in the booth was miserable. He’d been anxiously waiting for a sign of life from V from the moment he left two days ago. He’d barely slept, and now that he was back he still couldn’t get him to answer his damned holo. Kerry breathed out a huge plume of smoke through his nose, then took a deep breath in. The studio may have been in the middle of Charter Hill, but up here all he heard was the wind. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on that, visualized it blowing away all his frustration, even if only for a few minutes. Then he pulled up his holo again. Even if he couldn’t reach him now, he could at least listen to V’s voice in the two messages he’d left him.

The first one was from almost two hours ago… V had come back in one piece, at least. But as he did so often lately, he sounded so absentminded, which worried Kerry more than anything. More than the hesitation to talk about his clients, which he’d usually never been shy about, especially the stressful, annoying ones, which this one seemed to be. It worried him more than the ridiculously long hours he stayed away lately, too, ‘cause V’d been like that occasionally even before taking over from Rogue. Something in V’s voice wasn’t quite right, hadn’t been for a few weeks, and Kerry wished he’d at least let him have a glimpse into his mind… but it seemed utterly impossible to peer behind his walls, was getting harder every day. Something had happened, but he didn’t know what it was. It drove him nuts. At the same time, he wondered if he was reading too much into it, only making it worse… or if he was not doing enough and V withdrew on purpose... Would leave him, like everyone else had before.

He opened the second message before his thoughts began spiraling too much again.

“Hey back at ya. Again. Just wanted to say, I’m almost home now, just driving through Corpo Plaza.”

Yeah, Kerry could hear the noise of the rush hour traffic in the background. Ridiculous how he kept doing that to himself without thinking much about it. But V was good behind the steering wheel, and old habits were hard to kill.

“I’ve… been thinkin’ about you a lot, about us.”

Kerry’s heart almost stopped. Had he been thinking about him, about them, just like that, or… was this the start of the “we need to talk” conversation he dreaded more than anything?

“I finally had a moment to listen to your messages from earlier today, too…”

Fuck… He’d regretted leaving those the second it was too late to take them back. He’d been still half-asleep, worried sick, and honestly, a bit mad at V for the way he’d been acting lately. Had he picked up the phone then, hearing his real voice alone probably would have been enough to soothe Kerry’s anger and sadness. But he’d been out there somewhere, unable to answer, and Kerry just blurted out what he was feeling at that moment without thinking it through, talking to a wall more than to V directly.

It was true, he wished they’d spend more time together… but he also knew only too well that V was trying everything in his power to even allow them to have more time. Alt had given him six months, at most, roughly. That was over three months ago. Viktor had done everything he could to patch V up after Mikoshi, and when he was at his wits end, Kerry phoned around and gathered some of the best specialists for brain stuff his endlessly deep pockets could buy them. But all they did was quickly come to the conclusion that the tech V would need to survive this didn’t exist yet. They could ease or delay some of the worst symptoms, and maybe that could give him some additional weeks, or a month, but not much more. Hearing that almost destroyed him, and he couldn’t even imagine what V must have felt when they told him. The nights they’d both spent crying afterwards, about how unfair it was that the time they’d have with each other was so limited. So many wasted years, and V wouldn’t even get to live half the lifetime Kerry had under his belt.

And here he was, getting pissy about V forgetting to go to the grocery store. Again, the urge to toss something off the roof rose, so Kerry threw his half-smoked cigarette. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t even catch the rest of the message, so he had to replay it.

“I finally had a moment to listen to your messages from earlier today, too…”

The pause that followed was almost unbearable.

“I love you, Kerry, I hope you know that. ‘Cause I know I’ve been bad at showing it lately.”

“Fuck,” Kerry cursed, a huge chunk of tension falling off his back, so much so he felt the overwhelming urge to sit down on the floor for a moment. He only just caught the tail end of the message of V saying goodbye.

“Yeah, I know that, ya gonk,” he said quietly, “Now please just pick up your fuckin’ holo so I can tell you the same.”

He called, and this time V at least wasn’t talking to someone else, but he still didn’t pick up for some reason. There was no way he’d made it all the way back home already, right? Or maybe he had, no reception in the elevator. Or he was in the shower already.

“Urgh, fine!” Kerry yelled, his voice echoing across the city. He got back up, paced over to the stairwell, and jogged back down the few flights of stairs to the level the studio was on. The recording engineers were still there, sitting on the sofas by the enormous mixer console just outside the recording booth. They seemed to be enjoying their short coffee break, as Kerry had instructed them to before running upstairs, and were joking with Kerry’s new manager Lee who hadn’t been here yet before.

“Kerry!” he said, beaming with annoying joy but also flinching slightly as Kerry stormed into the room, “I have great news! I’ve been phoning back and forth with the Crystal Palace management - …”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, send an e-mail. I gotta go,” Kerry brushed him off as he snatched up his jacket from one of the chairs by the mixer and immediately turned around to leave. The engineers stared at him wide-eyed but didn’t dare to say a thing.

“But… Kerry, this is huge! Let me just-…“ Lee stammered, but Kerry was already out the door.

He was drumming against the control panel restlessly, a random little beat that wouldn’t leave his head, as the elevator took him down to the parking garage agonizingly slowly. He knew it was in vain, but he tried calling V a couple of more times before he made it to his car. Then again as he finally emerged from the darkness, greeted by Charter Hill’s fake cherry trees and glass skyscrapers gleaming golden from the setting sun. But no luck.

Kerry sighed and turned right to get on the highway. It was the less direct way home, but no way in hell he’d squeeze himself through the City Center rush hour like some people did. On the way to Little China he kept trying to reach out to V a few more times, but he didn’t answer. For a moment he pondered calling Rogue but brushed the thought aside. Why would she know anything he didn’t?

Finally, Kerry arrived in the street their penthouse sat on; the parking garage was just around the corner. Even Little China was busy around this time of day… or at least it was today. There was quite the commotion ahead. At first Kerry didn’t think much of it, slowing down his car. Traffic was still moving, but apparently redirected elsewhere. As he got closer to the intersection, he saw that the NCPD had blocked off the road, and a tow truck just arrived to get rid of the carnage of a nasty-looking car accident. An NCPD officer gestured him to turn around, and Kerry almost did without second thought. Then he looked back to the wrecks once more, he wasn’t even sure why, and his heart stopped for the second time in under half an hour. He thought to recognize V’s grey and gold Quadra V-Tech being one of the wrecks. He slammed on the breaks and froze, the guy in the car behind him honking angrily.

“Please turn around, the road is blocked!” the NCPD officer in front of him yelled over her megaphone, but only garbled nonsense reached Kerry’s ears. Almost automatically he put his car in park mode and got out.

“Sir! Stay in your vehicle!” the cop yelled, while in the background the V-Tech was prepared for getting towed.

Kerry started marching towards the police cordon, more cars behind him honking, some turning around chaotically and almost causing another accident.

“Sir!” the cop yelled again, more threateningly this time. But yes, seeing it up closer now, Kerry was absolutely sure this was V’s car. The windshield was broken, the entire front damaged almost beyond recognition, but the color and a few other details were quite unique. The other car, a red Mizutani, was in even worse shape. Lying on its roof the rescuers had cut off the doors to get to whoever had been still inside. Then Kerry saw a body covered in a white tarp a little further back behind the Mizutani, and his stomach turned.

“What happened to the driver of the grey car?” Kerry half-screamed at the cop, almost not recognizing his own voice, the noise of the traffic and his own heartbeat deafening. Only then he noticed she had her gun drawn, pointing it at him. But he did not budge, he couldn’t. He was too shocked by this entire scene.

“Sir, get back into your car, this is a crime scene!” the cop ordered, her voice shaky. Kerry couldn’t see her face behind her tactical visor, but she sounded very young still.

“What happened?” he yelled, his heart beating so fast he couldn’t think straight, he barely understood what she was saying and what was happening anymore. He turned back to face the wrecks.

“Don’t make me lose him like this, not like this…” he whispered to himself, hands on his head, clutching his hair, as his chest was about to explode.

One of the other cops at the scene noticed the commotion and sprinted over to help their younger colleague.

“Officer Riley, status report?” the cop asked loudly, her voice also muffled, but older, more seasoned sounding.

“I just wanna fuckin’ know what happened, how hard can it be?” Kerry snapped and turned back to the cops briefly, half tempted to climb over the makeshift barrier they’d set up.

“Sir, calm down,” the older cop ordered, “And Riley, put your gun down.”

The younger woman did as she was told but kept a close eye on Kerry regardless. The older one walked over to him, keeping her distance, but spoke to him directly.

“Are you a relative?” she asked sternly, but calm.

“The Quadra,” Kerry stammered, “It’s my… mainline’s car. He tried to call me less than half an hour ago…”

“Trauma Team came and picked him up only just,” the cop said, and Kerry finally managed to pull his eyes away from the wreckage to look at the cop, “He was injured, but not in a life-threatening manner as far as I’ve gathered. The shitheads that caused the accident had it much worse.”

“Where’d they take him?” Kerry asked breathlessly.

“Med Center just down the road. Now please move your vehicle out of the way!”

He sprinted back to his car, engine still running, then turned around tires screeching and sped off to the Med Center.

Everything was a blur. He didn’t remember how he got here, where he parked the car, or if he’d even turned the engine off this time, but by the time he burst into the lobby of the Med Center his mission was clear. The young guy behind the only currently available counter kept smiling but also visibly recoiled when Kerry slammed his hands on the desk.

“Can I help you –“ he stammered but Kerry was quicker.

“They just brought in someone, I need to get to him,” Kerry blurted out.

“Um, are you a relative?”

“Look it up, Vincent Ezaki. But he goes just by V,” Kerry ignored him.

“Isn’t that Kerry Eurodyne?” one of the other receptionists gasped, and several more heads turned into his direction, visitors and staff alike.

“Oh my god, yes! I was there for the premiere of ‘Off the Leash’!”

Kerry sighed. Anything for his fans, usually, but currently all that mattered to him was making sure V was okay.

“First person that fuckin’ tells me where the fuck V is and how to get to him gets a front row ticket for my next concert. Go!”

This was the fastest he’d ever gotten the information he needed at a hospital. Not even “my wife is in labor, where can I find her?” had worked as well as this. He’d had to keep that in mind for future reference. A med-tech was called and led him all the way to the correct floor – but then only to the visitor waiting area. Kerry grew angry again.

“No, I wanna see V, not sit around here like a useless piece of shit,” he complained.

“Mr. Eurodyne, that’s not possible. Mr. Ezaki –“

“V,” Kerry immediately corrected her.

“… V is in treatment, and as a Trauma Team Platinum customer receiving the best medical care available. As soon as the doctors are done you can go and see him, but please let them do their work first.”

Kerry raked his mind for a witty reply, his pulse still racing at top speeds, so much so that his biomonitor had started to alert him of his blood pressure. He took another deep breath and forcefully swallowed down his anger.

“Can you tell me anythin’ at least?” he then asked as he slumped down on one of the free armchairs she had directed him to. The space was quiet and nicely decorated with fake flowers on dainty little tables and artworks on the walls, but it still felt pretty sterile. The tech pulled up a file on her data pad and skimmed through it briefly.

“Some broken bones, bruises, scratches. The most severe injury that is currently being looked into is a possible concussion. But he was conscious and talking to our team briefly before being brought in.”

Kerry couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing and he crossed his arms as he stared down the long hallway leading here, eyes fixated on the door that said “Staff Only” in bright red letters.

“Mr. Eurodyne,” the med-tech said, following his gaze, “Please be patient. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

She patted him on the shoulder, then slowly turned to leave. Kerry got up from his chair as soon as she was out of sight. He pondered lighting up a smoke right then and there to calm his nerves, but he didn’t want to get kicked out of two hospitals for the same thing. So instead, he started pacing again, up and down the hallway, trying to get rid of his nervous energy. The fact that V was somewhere behind this door, so close and yet so far, and him incapable of doing anything to help him, was torture. Eventually he sat back down again and pulled up his holo interface. He hadn’t even noticed Lee trying to call him a couple of times through all of this. He ignored him for a little while longer, instead pulled up V’s last voicemail message again. Received at 6.48 it said. Now it was almost 8. The accident must have happened minutes, if not moments after he’d tried to call. Kerry cursed. He listened to the message once more.

“I love you, Kerry, I hope you know that. ‘Cause I know I’ve been bad at showing it lately.”

If V had died wondering whether or not Kerry knew he loved him… After the messages he’d left this morning, it was no wonder. But knowing this was what was on his mind moments before some random Tygers almost killed him… it would have killed Kerry along with V.

They both sucked at showing their love for each other lately, each in their own way. They’d both been incredibly busy, V with this mysterious gig, Kerry with the new album, barely seeing each other some days. Whatever the reasons were for V withdrawing, it played right into Kerry’s fear of being abandoned once again. And him being snappy and mad and sarcastic played right into V switching into defense mode and withdrawing even more. They needed to work on their communication, desperately, but also… when they finally had some time for each other, just the two of them alone, serious talk like that was the last thing on their minds to blow off steam.

At 8pm sharp a small notification bleeped in the corner of Kerry’s peripheral. “Feed the cat” it said.

“Ah, crap…”

What use was an automatic feeder if you’d still have to refill it so often? While Kerry still pondered who to call to delegate this task to, Lee tried calling him again.

“Well, ya did this to yourself…” he mused as he picked up.

“Kerry!” Lee exclaimed with too much enthusiasm for Kerry’s current state of mind, “So happy to reach you, what I’ve been trying to tell you - …”

“Can ya do me a big solid, Lee?” Kerry interrupted him, “Swing by my Little China pad and feed the cat, would ya?”

“Oh, um…”

Kerry ended the call before Lee could finish his sentence. Something, something, the Crystal Palace, whatever. Kerry couldn’t care less about that stupid space station right now.

Another hour or so passed, and slowly but surely the last couple of nights’ sleep-deprivation began to kick in. Simultaneously he was still on edge, his patience wearing thin at the lack of updates and information, the utter bleakness of this hallway and seating area dragging Kerry down even more. He didn’t remember the last time he’d been in such a weird state of mind… almost as if he was drunk out of his mind while simultaneously high on something that shouldn’t be mixed with alcohol. Lee had given up on calling him, instead sent a photo of Nibbles eating, and a wall of text afterwards about whatever it was he’d been trying to tell him all evening. Right when Kerry got so bored out of his mind that he almost considered reading the text, the “Staff Only” door swung open. Immediately he was wide awake again, jumped out of his chair almost.

The med-tech from earlier was back, accompanied by what he assumed was a doctor, as she wore differently colored scrubs. That’s at least how you could tell them apart on TV shows.

“How is he?” Kerry asked, his voice coming out not nearly as confident as he’d have liked it to.

“He’s sleeping but doing good overall. We gave him some pretty strong painkillers that will keep him knocked out until tomorrow,” the tech explained.

Kerry sighed, relieved and exhausted, his head spinning slightly but in a good way finally.

“There was some minor damage to some of his implants that we could fix, and he will make a good recovery regarding any broken bones. There is something though I wanted to ask you about, as his emergency contact,” the doctor said and pulled up something on her data pad. Kerry’s first wave of euphoria dwindled at the sight of a brain scan with several large areas highlighted in red presented to him.

“He suffered a concussion during the accident. Standard procedure here is a thorough brain scan, but what we found was a lot worse than what the impact could have caused. So, not having his complete medical history on file currently, maybe you can give us some insight?”

Kerry interlocked his fingers behind his head, looking at the images only with reluctance.

“Y’know, I’m no expert on that stuff, dunno what’s everything s’pposed to look like even…” he said.

“We know that,” the med-tech chimed in calmly, gently putting a hand on Kerry’s back, “But are you aware of any past trauma or illness V went through that affects his nervous system?”

Kerry dropped his arms.

“Can I see?” he said, pointing at the data pad. The doctor handed it to him. Kerry flicked through the scans, actually very familiar with the sight. He was just startled time and time again by how severe V’s condition really was, having it laid out so clearly in front of him.

“Guess ya could say he’s quite ill, yeah,” he then explained quietly, “Had a bad injury about half a year back, followed up by… I don’t even know how to describe it. I just know things kinda kept getting worse after that, and still are.”

“An infection following the injury?” the doctor asked, and Kerry laughed weakly.

“Somethin’ like that, I guess. Been told his case is pretty unique. So far, no treatments available. He can explain it better than me.”

“Do you happen to have any more recent scans available? From other clinics?” the doctor asked.

“Dr. Fuentes is conducting a study on hard to cure diseases of the nervous system,” the med-tech explained, “It might be a long shot, but maybe, a few years down the road, there will be a treatment that could help someone like V.”

“He doesn’t have a few years,” Kerry said numbly, any sparks of hope flickering in the doctor’s words immediately extinguished by the timeframe they gave, “Months, at most, we’ve been told.”

“Even so,” Fuentes said firmly, “I would like to look into this. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“Only V can decide that,” Kerry shrugged, “But yeah, there are recent scans. Pretty sure his Ripper has somethin’ from a couple months back. ‘bout a month and a half ago we had that brain specialist have a look, uhh… Wilson, or Williams or somethin’ like that, can give ya her number. If V agrees.”

“Of course,” Fuentes nodded, keeping up the friendly professional attitude. But something in her eyes told Kerry that she meant serious business. Kerry hadn’t decided yet if it was in a way he liked or not.

“Can I go see him now?” he just asked and handed back the data pad.

“Yes, of course,” the med-tech said and led Kerry deeper into the winding intestines of the Med Center. He’d really had enough of doctors. Not even for giving them false hope, no… for seeing V as not much more than an interesting and unique case to study and dissect like a high school science project. They weren’t interested in helping, they were interested in profiting of a dying man, in furthering their careers and agenda. What was a hospital if not just another corporation, and what was a doctor if not a corpo playing dress up with a white coat…

>> Next Chapter

[parviocula]

[darkling-er]

Love is Betrayal || Cyberpunk 2077

summary: V gets frustrated after the surgary and decides to raise hell in Orbital Air. or the one where cyberpunk's ending sucks and i fix it

pairing: johnny silverhand x v!reader [female]

warning: spoilers for the ending of cyberpunk 2077

×××

Cognitive Function Test...

It's been over a week now, that you have been operated on. A week spent in space, in Orbital, while your friends stayed on Earth. A week, since your betrayal.

The colours are all funny, your limbs don't work as they used to and there's a gaping hole in your chest, though not literally, that hurts you day and night.

The doctor is a pain in the ass, with her never ending tests, all the questions she ask you, you have a simple answer for all the words. Johnny.

Oh, Johnny... how he was right, that Arasaka and that porcelain bitch, Hanako would lie to you. How you were going to regret this decision. You are, ever since you woke up with a pain that you never felt before.

The doctor couldn't care less about your well being, other than you doing those damn annoying tests. You were allowed to call home, call your friends, but no one really listened to what you were saying. You loved them, but you couldn't care for them, they were not able to help you with the biochip and they can't help you now either.

You feel alone, empty, scared. Like there is a piece missing. And there is. When you are awake, you can't escape it. But when you sleep it's even worse. You swear you can hear Johnny calling out to you, and you're there following his voice, but then it vanishes and you are awake again. Without any hope, without him.

Cognitive Function Test...

You can't solve the god damn cube. The doctor rips it out of your hands and you get frustrated day by day.

Cognitive Function Test...

You remember your deal with Hanako, how you begged her to put Johnny into another body, and yet they told you they shradded his biochip. Like he wasn't even a real person. Fuck them!

Cognitive Function Test...

The doctor returns, her cold and stoic demeanor bringing rage and hatred into your heart. And you yell at her.

"No!" As you throw the cube at the end of the room, as she looks at you with surprise. "NO!"

Rage fills your eyes with blaring red and with a sudden power you lunge yourself at her, bringing her to the ground with a loud noise. You grab her neck, chocking the woman.

"Lying piece of shit!" You yell into her face, spitting with rage as you watch her defensive movements stop as she dies from your hands. "Lying bitch!"

You don't only see red because of your anger, but the space station's hallway fills with panicking shouts and screams, and a red alert blasting.

You get up from the ground, though your movements are still not as sure as they used to be. You thumble to the door, opening it with a swift movement, well, as swift one can be after a brain surgery.

As you open the door you hear gun shots and for a second you think you are hit, but instead you look ahead the hallway and see doctors and nurses dead on the ground, next to the few guards Orbital Air had.

But who is shooting? Maybe Panam finally came after you begged her to help you get back to Earth. Maybe you will hear Mitch with his heavy voice shouting "corpo shits". But instead you freeze, watching the man with the gun.

His hair is messy, not quite as long as you remember, same with the beard. There's a lack of a metal arm as well, instead both his arms are meat and skin.

But most of all he lacks the glitching that you were used to seeing around him. He's solid. He's-

"J-Johnny?" Your voice is weak and it breaks, but he looks up from the body of a guard he just murdered and looks at you, startled.

He looks at you with sad eyes, surprised that you're alive, but also feeling so relieved. He thought you were dead. They said you didn't survive the surgery, while his engram was put into a clone of his original body.

But now, as he sees you, his usually stoic features disappear and he says so softly it almost breaks your heart in half:

"V?" He sounds unsure.

Your legs move for you, as you run towards him, his arms loosen and he drops his weapon, walking toward you slowly, and you meet him in halway. You throw yourself at his body, which is solid as a rock, and he embraces you with such force you hear yourself sob.

You can't help your tears, and you cry and mutter:

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

For betraying him, for almost losing the only person who ever truly cared about you.

But he hushes you, his voice also weak, but sure.

"It's okay. I've got you now... I've got you."

×××

tags: @seldomabsent

[sixteenandsixteenhundred]

The Guy Who Saved My Life

Summary: This is an alternate epilogue to The Sun ending I wrote after several days of joking that I could’ve written a better plot (I'm not saying this actually is better it's just a silly little wish fulfilment piece I thought I would share). There are a few things that don’t exactly adhere to the world of 2077 simply because I think the stuff in the original TTRPG and Cyberpunk Red is cooler. This is also a reminder to everyone to go and read or re-read Never Fade Away.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Spoilers for several character deaths, as well as events that lead up to The Sun ending.

A/N: Is this a crappy first draft with minimal editing? Did I pressure myself to finish and post it before 2020 ends? Did I spend valuable time writing this when I have three unwritten essays due in soon? The answer to all of these questions is yes.

Also on AO3 here

‘Hello, Night City! Drag your asses out of your sad sack and turn to face the sky!’ The radio chirped as V pulled herself out of bed, greeted by the afternoon sun. She was on autopilot, completely lost to the chaos of the city below until the cold shock of the shower snapped her back to reality, if that’s what you want to call it.

‘But for all you sitting in the gutter, looking up at the smog, here’s someone you ain’t heard in a while - Johnny Silverhand!’

‘Off.’ V barked, but it came out ragged and broken. She coughed. Blood. The radio fell silent.

‘Good afternoon, V. I trust you had a restful sleep.’ Alva’s voice was flat, empty, it scratched at the back of V’s skull and sent tension down into her fists.

‘Not now, Alva.’ A quiet chirp and the AI fell silent. Obedient.

Finally, a moment to herself - she hated it. Hard to be alone when you don’t recognise the bitch in the mirror.

She remembered the stench of loneliness that had bombarded her at Kerry’s mansion. There was only one thing in this damn apartment that didn’t smell just the same. She pulled the first clothes she saw off the floor and managed to dress herself before reaching for the samurai jacket Rogue had given her.

She hadn’t worn it all week, but then again, she hadn’t done much that warranted getting dressed since everything had happened, since everything had gone wrong.

It didn’t make any sense. Johnny had been a construct in her head; he’d never worn the jacket and she’d never been able to smell the guy, but instinct told her it smelt of him - cigarettes and tequila and something she couldn’t even place. She pulled the sleeves down as far as they would reach, hoping to cover the tattoo.

Reality called again, or rather Emmerick did. ‘Ey, boss.’ Hearing a familiar voice helped more than she thought it would; hurt a hell of a lot more too though.

‘Em, shit. Couldn’t ask a favour, could I?’

‘For you? Anything.’

‘Tell him the job’s off the table.’ V waited for a response but wasn’t surprised that she didn’t get one. ‘No renegotiating, not some other time, just call it off.’

‘Sure thing,’ Emmerick replied. ‘Couldn’t come and do the honours yourself?’

‘I got something else I wanna do, besides, you can handle him; don’t be afraid to put some lead in him if he starts anything; fed up of that schmuck.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Call me with anything urgent; I’ll drop by in a day or two. Oh, and call off Del, I won’t be needing that ride.’

‘Will do, boss, and no worries, take your time.’

Her agent flickered off as she hung up. Before heading out she grabbed the pistols, Pride and the Malorian, and donned Johnny’s aviators to hide her bloodshot eyes.

It wasn’t far to the alley behind Misty’s - V’d made sure she stayed in the neighbourhood, even if she didn’t amble about it the way she used to. The kids loitering on the steps gave her a wide berth, staring wide-eyed at NC’s newest legend, snickering behind their hands when she stumbled and slipped on a flyer. She managed to catch herself, but her heart sank as she waited for a snide comment that never came.

Viktor wasn’t shocked to hear the door open or the metal grate give way, but he sure was surprised to see V stood there before him. Neither he nor Misty had heard from her other than a quick call to say that she was alive, and rumour had it she’d only shown her face at The Afterlife, her own damn club, once or twice.

‘What can I do for ya, V?’ Viktor stood from his chair and welcomed her in.

V’s eyes scanned over the room for a moment, eyebrows creasing in confusion.

‘Fuck, Vik… I dunno.’ It hit her that she had no idea why she’d come here. ‘Don’t know why I’m anywhere anymore.’ V perched on the end of Viktor’s desk and closed in on herself; eyes cast downwards, shoulders hunched.

‘Sorry for bothering ya, Vik.’

He stepped forward and put a sturdy hand on V’s shoulder, crouching to make eye contact. She started a little at the touch but didn’t pull away.

‘Don’t worry about it, you’re always welcome here kid.’

‘Thanks.’ The gratitude was hushed and heavy with regret.

Viktor pulled his friend into a hug, and, for a long moment, there was only the muffled drone of the city above them.

Tears began to creep down V’s face, emerging from behind the glasses.

‘What the fuck am I gonna do, Vik?’ V posed a question they both knew he couldn’t answer.

She kept talking just to fill the silence of the clinic. ‘I killed ‘em all Vik. Rogue’d be alive if it weren’t for me.’

Viktor kept his arms tight around her, scared if he let her go she would crumble. ‘Rogue was great; she just had bad luck, nothin’ anyone could have done. Blood isn’t on your hands.’

V’s memories of that night were hazy but one stood out, crystal clear. Rogue’s body, limp and contorted in the bowels of Arasaka tower, Pride still clutched in her hand, finger on the trigger. The thought of it made her feel nauseous.

‘Isn’t it Vik? Whose is it on? What about Jackie and T-Bug? Evelyn Parker? Takemura? Scorpion?’

Her final question was choked out in a whisper. ‘What about Johnny?’

Viktor knew what he could say - Johnny Silverhand died 55 years ago to a bunch of greedy corpos - but he knew that wouldn’t do jack shit with the state she was in right now.

The heavy grate screeched open again. Nerves fried to shit, paranoia scratching at the nape of her neck, V turned, in one swift movement pulling the Malorian on whoever had intruded. She held the pistol in her left hand.

Shit.

Misty froze, raising the cups of coffee she held in each hand. ‘Only me, V.’

V holstered the gun, cursing under her breath as Misty approached, setting down one of the cups beside Viktor.

‘Sorry, shouldn’t’a barged in like that.’

‘Nah Misty, shit, I’m the one who pulled iron on ya.’ V removed the aviators and pulled her hands across her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and bruised, her skin gaunt and lifeless. Calling her a living legend might be a bit of an overstatement.

The buzz of NC set in again. The silence between the three friends was oddly comfortable, considering none of them had a damn clue what to say to each other.

A minute of shuffling and sparse eye contact passed before V put the glasses and a brave face back on.

‘I’m gonna head outta the city for the night.’

‘V...’ Misty wanted to stop her but knew she was pushing her luck.

‘I can’t stand it here; it’s all so loud. I gotta delta.’

‘Shit, can’t pretend to know what’s going through that head of yours. Just take care of yourself out there, kid.’ Viktor downed the last of his coffee before it had a chance to go cold.

‘I’ll drop by again tomorrow, promise.’ V’s voice was laced with guilt, desperate for her friends to stop worrying about her. ‘Managed to get some sleep last night, ya know.’

Misty and Viktor saw a familiar blank look set on V’s face as she gazed passed them, looking for something no one else saw.

‘Hey, that’s great V.’ Misty chirped.

‘Just as I was slippin' outta my head, finally, I-‘ Fuck. What was she doing? What did she think she’d say next?

There are some things you don’t tell anyone. The fact that, just as she lost consciousness, right arm stretched out across the empty bed, she could've sworn she’d felt cool, smooth chrome resting in her hand? That was top of the list.

Scrambling, tripping over her own words, V was quick to change the subject

‘You guys ain’t gotta word about me.’ She gave a single, hollow laugh. ‘Hell, I stormed Arasaka and made it out alive, or so I’ve been told - I’m untouchable.’

Viktor and Misty mustered their goodbyes. They wanted to reach out, ask if she wouldn’t stay in the city for tonight, they could all grab a pizza and talk crap until the sun came up again. But V had said it best herself; she was untouchable.

Jackie’s Arch was waiting for her back up in the alley. Sure, it wasn’t the safest place, but V preferred to keep it locked up back here. Besides, I wasn’t like keeping something in a garage has ever deterred a thief, she knew that from personal experience. She dragged the bike out onto the street and it revved to life, radio crackling over the noise of the engine.

‘-Significant roadblocks up in Northside. NCPD are aiming to clear the roads quickly but that’s about all the information we have. For now, we’d advise against any unnecessary travel through the district and we’ll keep you up to date with any breaking information.’ The announcer’s voice fizzled out and a song took its place. V sat for a moment, calculating, before speeding off ‘round a corner, cursing under her breath.

Autopilot set in again, and V was barely sure of where she was until a red light flashed up ahead of her. She considered just running it, but at the last moment, the bike came to a screeching halt.

Looking around, V recognised a few buildings, washed out and faded. She hated this part of town – never any good jobs and always tinged by some sad shadow of the past.

The lights turned orange but V’s eyes were instead cast down an alleyway, and she couldn’t resist the pull that drew her in.

Resting the Arch against a wall, V’s slow steps took her deeper into the shadows. The buildings here were old, concrete beginning to crumble, plants sprouting through the cracks – it was odd to see anything in this state. Sure, it wasn’t V’s favourite place to be but it was hardly bad real estate, and wild plants growing in the middle of NC? Not a typical sight.

Enchanted by the story this place wanted to tell her, V pushed on until she met the end of the alley. Looking up at the building before her, a memory stung in her chest. She’d never been here before.

There were no signs left to indicate what this place might’ve been, but plants burst from every escape they could find, moving gently in the wind to beckon V inside.

Then it hit her. She half expected that blue, glitching static, ‘Relic malfunction detected’ flashing across her vision, but there was only silence.

It was too quiet for Night City, even the noise and chaos seemed to have abandoned this place.

The doorway had collapsed in on itself a long time ago, a tree now twisting its way around the rubble, barring V from entering. She clambered up a rusted, crumbling fire escape, working on a muscle memory that wasn’t hers until she was two floors up, facing a boarded window.

It didn’t take V much effort to pry the brittle wood away from the building, which was just as well considering she had little left.

Through the window, V stood in a small entrance hall, remnants of a staircase falling away behind her. Putting a hand against the door before her, every ounce of strength evaporated from V’s body. She took a deep breath, a moment to calm herself down. In a weird twist of fate, she’d’ve given the world to see his flickering blue form right now.

Putting her weight against the door, V pushed into a larger room. Plants had escaped from their ornamental pots and weaved across the floor, a few even daring to entangle themselves in the gaudy chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling. Beneath the plants and long-settled dust, booths with plush, syn-leather seats were scattered with bottles and glasses, a few cheap pistols even scattered about.

Whoever abandoned this place was quick to delta. Probably had no idea they wouldn’t be coming back.

In the centre of the room sat a grand bar with a pale marble countertop. V pulled herself up to sit atop in, tucking her legs under her as she looked down onto the lower counter. It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for.

A skewered receipt confirmed what she already knew:

        ATLANTIS

        3:16AM, MARCH 8TH 2024

The order was cheap vodka shots and a slew of cocktails she’d never even heard of, but that didn’t matter.

Dismounting to rain the cabinets below, V pulled out a bottle, the label long since faded and worn away. V tossed the lid onto the floor and took a long swig. Even then she couldn’t put a finger on the strange liquid, but it burned her throat and that was good enough.

V set the bottle down, trading it for a rusted corkscrew that had been abandoned half a century ago.

‘If these walls could talk…’ With that she deltaed, jumping down from the fire escape and pacing back over to the bike.

Somewhere along the way, the city gave out to dusty open fields, old Petrochem plants dotting the barren landscape. V pulled the bike off to the side of the road and began wading through the scrap and rubble to a familiar slab of concrete.

V wondered if anyone had been here since their visit; the metal sheet lay undisturbed bearing her messy inscription:

        JS 2023

She flipped the sheet over – there was less graffiti on this side – pulled out the corkscrew, and got to work.

The sun had long since set by the time V was finished. She carved a thin channel and stuck the cool metal into the dirt at the edge of the concrete. After propping it up with a few worn-out tyres, she took a step back to admire the new inscription. Her penmanship, if you could even call it that, was shoddy, but she couldn’t care less if anyone else could read it.

Across the bottom were four names; T-BUG, SCORPION, EVELYN PARKER, GORO TAKEMURA, each with 2077 scratched below them. Above them were three more. On the left of the sheet;

        RACHEL ‘ROGUE’ AMENDIARES

                  2077

        STILL THE BEST

The right-hand side read;

        JAQUITO ‘JACKIES’ WELLES  

                  2077

        “THE ONE THING WE CAN’T DO IS BE AFRAID OF OTHERS”

She’d left the central space blank until last, as if leaving it unwritten made it any less true. But eventually, she’d managed it, tears falling onto the metal as the night’s chill crept into her bones;

        JOHNNY SILVERHAND

                  2023/2077

        THE GUY WHO SAVED MY LIFE

Finally, V dug a small hole in front of her plaque, dirt embedding itself beneath her nails. She drew Pride and placed it in the earth before her. The Malorian sat heavy in her hand, and as much as she willed her hand to set it down beside Rogue’s pistol, every inch of her body resisted. The gun found its way back to the holster at her hip.

After burying Pride, V laid back on the concrete, looking up at the few stars that were visible once you left the city. She pulled a cigarette from a pack in one of the jacket's pockets – she certainly didn’t put them there – and lit it.

Closing her eyes, V tried not to think about the body below her. She pulled the jacket tight around her against the chill of the Badlands, alone.