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sailorskunk · 3 months ago

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001. HEROES.

Silverv, canon divergent, fix it fic.

☔️ about.

☔️ word count: 4.7k.

☔️ tags/warnings: scenes of medical operation, gun violence, unskippable cutscene sex (just kidding, could you imagine?), graphic depictions of other character death, including decapitation, major character resurrection.

☔️ playlist: hskt - sylvan esso, GR4VES - konrad oldmoney, blackout days - phantogram

Delamain’s prerogative was to drop you off at the no tell motel that night. Through cloudy panic, you had taken a moment to survey the situation. The heist had gone awry, and there was no doubt that Arasaka would come down on you both – that is, if Jackie made it. There he was, breathing hard, sounds grinding out of his throat.

Your hands shook with each new breath you forced yourself to take. You recalled how easy it would’ve been to deal with this situation. Pain editors, internal mood stabilizers. You didn’t have any of that now, not that you’d been dropped from counterintelligence for following Jenkins’s stupidity.

“This is fucking stupid,” you whispered, hands tight against Jackie’s shoulders.

“Eh, chica, had it comin’,” Jackie grunted, coughing.

“Shh,” you answered, thoughts jittery and hard to follow. “Airhypo,” you chirped. “Jack, you need an airhypo.” You weren't sure why you hadn’t thought of it before, between opening his shirt and trying your best to cover all the holes. You’d shredded your shitty Militech jacket to make a makeshift wrap. Del had said something about an aortic burst, but you couldn’t be fussed with that at the moment.

It looked like the blood was coming from his lower abdomen. While surveying the wound, it was an exit, not an entry. The skin settled differently, the muscle exposed differently between the two. You were sure. You were so sure.

Wasting no time at all, using your suit jacket to dampen the blood loss, you dosed him in the chest with the two hypos you had.

Del slowed, coming to a stop in the back lot of the motel. The world outside glowed pink through the rain.

“God, Jack, I’d switch our places in a second,” you grunted, the sound coming out more than a little uncertain.

Jackie breathed hard against the pain, blinking heavily. His grasp on your hand was tighter than it had been just a moment before. You could see his lip stiffening. “I wouldn’t,” he whispered, using a bloodied knuckle to wipe at the film of sweat collecting at his brow.

“Ms. V, where would you like Mr. Welles’s remains taken in the event of his expiration?”

You hissed. “You fuckin’ take him to Vik's, now.”

“Ms. V,” Del began, the inflection high in the AI’s voice.

“I’ll pay. I’ll come back out and I’ll pay, Del. Please, just get him to Misty’s Esoterica.”

The AI in the screen appeared to think briefly. “Client request noted.”

“Del,” you started to say, but out of the corner of your eye, watched as Jackie began moving.

“You’ll need this, Chica,” he murmured.

The relic, glowing purple-red, the reason for all this. You let him slot it, pleased at the warmth returning to his fingers. “You just stay awake,” you told him.

Getting out of the car, well aware that Del wasn’t going to move an inch until you were inside, you landed in the first floor lobby and hesitated underneath the glow of the lights. There was a realization tickling the edge of your brain, some knowledge from your former life coming back to the forefront.

Dexter DeShawn didn’t want you there to help you. Or Jack. The heist had failed miserably, news all over the feeds, if Evelyn was telling the truth on the holo.

Would Arthur Jenkins have wanted just a word if you’d failed in persuading Abernathy off the path of gunning for him?

No. The realization hit like a sack of rocks against your chest.

You started up the stairs anyway, catching Vik on the holo.

“H-hey, V,” the old ripper chuckled as he answered.

“Vik,” You bleated. “We fucked up. Jackie should be headed your way now. He’s… You’ve gotta do something. He’s been boosted twice and his abdomen is wrapped.”

“Christ, V,” Vik grunted, before sighing. “Thanks for the head’s up. That it?”

You sniffed, rolling your eyes as you closed them. You leaned against the stair’s railing. “Yeah, for right now. I’d be with him right now if there wasn’t something else goin’ on.”

Vik was silent, just for a moment. After a few beats of awkward gasping, he said, “What else is there? You think you’re gonna make it out?”

“Gotta meet the fixer,” you answered. “I don’t think it’s gonna go well. But I’ll make it. I’ll be alright. I need to be there when you fix Jack up, however you can. If you can. That’s my intention. That’s the plan.”

“Alright… Bye, V.”

“See you, Vik.”

“Better.”

The holo cut, and you realized your fingers had gone numb with anxiety, the dull hum of the motel’s aircon units buzzing in time with the buzz underneath your skin.

You went back down to the lobby, just to check if Del had done what you’d asked. The black car was gone, and relief flooded in.

That was, until you turned back to the stairs, and tried to calm down enough to figure out the play.

Dex and his huscle weren’t going to let you leave that room if you didn’t drop them first. You’d managed to pick up your piece, had your basic mantis arms. Knew though that if you were anticipating them dropping you, then they were prepared to answer any call of a fight you gave them.

You didn’t know if Arasaka’s ops were on the tail yet, but there was absolutely no doubt they would come calling.

You pulled up your contacts and chose Evelyn Parker.

“V,” the woman said. “You make it out?”

“Yes,” you answered. “I’m supposed to meet Dex, but I know I shouldn’t. We should drop him.”

“You have the relic?” Her brows lifted.

“I do.”

“Where do you want to meet?”

“Go to Misty’s Esoterica,” you whispered. “I’ll be there soon. I’m not far away.”

“I’ll be a minute,” she sighed. “I’m… tied up with something. Can we meet at your place?”

“Sure, sure,” you continued, your legs moving to leave the No Tell Motel. There was a man standing near the doorway, just off in the near darkness still in the rain. His eyes ringed in light, scanning the area.

You scrutinized him deeper, and he even gave you a glance.

Heart rate peaked, realizing that he was looking for you, even if he didn’t know it yet. You nixed the holo without even a goodbye, and headed back toward the exit with as much quickness as you could handle.

You made it to the street, up a high hill, glancing backward just long enough to guess that he hadn’t realized who you were. How he missed the signature of the relic, you didn’t know, but you kept going, dashing as much as you could to make it to Misty’s, then Vik's.

You told yourself that if you could just make it to Jackie’s side, everything else would fall into place. Jackie, the relic, Dex, the man surveying the motel. Del. And fucking Del, ignoring your initial request. Fuck.

Instinctively, you kept running, Dying Night in hand, silenced and scoped. You’d grab Ev on the holo later. Everything else could wait.

When you finally made it, Del was already gone, and Misty was ragging up the blood that trailed into the front door of her shop. From afar, she looked afraid, brows knitted as she scrubbed. Someone’s radio in the alleyway was playing GR4VES.

Misty rolled her shoulders, her eyes rising as your boots hit the pavement. “Hey, V,” she said, like it was any other day.

“Misty,” You barked. “Vik got ‘im?”

Misty just nodded, letting her hair bob. She blinked tight, the worry lines on her face rising. “Yeah, he does. He’s got him stabilized. We’re cleaning up and then… I guess Vik’ll operate.”

“What’s his condition?” you crossed your arms, kneeling beside her. You felt the fabric of your suit pants go taut against your joints and hips.

“He’s… He’s just shot up, real bad. Vik's got some options for him. Synth organs and all that. I don’t know exactly. You’ll have to ask,” Misty said, her shoulders softening as she went back to scrubbing the blood off the ground.

You cleared your throat. “Lemme help. Where’s another rag? We’ll do it together.”

After an hour, having helped Misty clean up the trail, you were in Vik's clinic as the ripper washed and suited for a long ride. Jackie was subdued, laid flat on an actual table instead of the chair this time. Instead, you sat in the chair beside Jackie. Vik allowed this if you didn’t “fuck around.”

Jackie’s heartbeat was on the lower end, but one could hear it on one of the many machines he was connected to.

Vik was at his side, hands mostly washed, breathing long, deep breaths. Jackie was open from the armpit to the hip so Vik could survey the overall damage. Vik swallowed every few minutes, his lips parting as his gloved hands worked in the shredded meat of Jack’s muscles and guts. “It’s more than a little lucky you got Delamain to agree to bring him here. That you had hypos on reserve. And… That it looks like no one followed you.” His brows were knitted with concentration, and you could see his optics working under his glasses, seeing all the little things that marked Jackie’s new version of life.

“They did follow me, Vik,” you answered. “They’ll come callin’. I just hope they fuck off for a little bit, catch me tomorrow. Motherfuckers.” You shivered at the thought of the man at the No Tell, the graying edges of his hair and some hefty ‘ware at his throat. You lifted Dying Night out of your waistband and put it on the empty metal table between you and Jackie. “If they don’t… Well. I’m sorry.”

Jackie, with his face enclosed in a mask giving him oxygen and medication to keep him subdued, took a hearty breath. The strongest you had heard in a while. The sound of it, as ragged as it was, calmed your nerves.

“If there’s anything I’m really worried about, it’s how it’s all gonna come together. ‘Saka, Dex, Evelyn, this fuckin’ chip I’m keeping warm in my head.” You weren't a smoker, but you could’ve stood a smoke just then, even if Vik would’ve tossed you outside.

Heart was still pounding, but for the time being, the clouded panic and the numbness had subsided. There were only a couple ways people know how to get into Vik's clinic. There were definitely only a couple ways this could play out if they did come. Now it was just the rhythmic beat in your bones, something innate and ethereal at the same time. You were alive. Jackie was alive.

“You should call Mama Welles, y’know,” Vik said, plinking bullets into a clear bowl. “She needs to know.”

Your brows rose, a hand curling at your chin. “How pissed off do you think she’s gonna be that I didn’t stop him? Us? I used to work for Arasaka for Christ’s sake.” Though Vik was there, though Jackie was asleep beside you, though you heard Misty’s boots coming down the stairwell, you could feel… It was a spotlight held by the universe, whatever forces were at play. Whatever was coming next was coming soon, and the spotlight both stripped the rest of the room from color and tangibility.

When the door opened, you froze at the revelation that it was not Misty. It, inevitably, were two Arasaka goons. One had a ligament system that muffled their steps, and the other was too large to have hidden.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” His accent was light, but there. His eyes were completely black, with red Arasaka irises. “Two scumbags suffering a crushing, but completely expected defeat.” He took something from his pocket, and your mantis blades popped on principle.

“We’re at a ripper, man,” You urged, your voice low. “Whatever the fuck it is you want, it can wait.”

“So you can be defeated again?” The goon lowered his eyes from the light over Jackie’s body to the floor, then back to you. “What is it like to have that kind of hope in spite of the chances being so miserably stacked against you?”

You snorted, letting your mouth pull into a smirk. “Night City gives and takes, that’s true. Love and hate might be the same to her. But when she loves me, she really loves me.” You shot up, winced from the pain in your ‘ganic knees, cutting the distance between the chair and the man with the irises.

You pinned him to the wall by your blade, the edge just against the soft synth-flesh of his throat. His pal finally seemed to be relevant, his muzzle brake against the aching shell of your skull. “Night City loves a legend. Night City lets the bleak ones rise to the top. You fuck with me now, you fuck with my compadre now, you won’t even be a footnote. You’ll be in chapter one and the readers won’t remember you at all. How does that sound?”

The goon just glanced at his partner and nodded. You slammed your blade to the wall and felt the bullet’s heat graze the base of your neck.

Shots rang out from deeper in the room, and when you turned, holding the new wound with a hand, Jackie was awake on the table, Dying Night in hand. “Chingada madre,” he said, half a dry whisper, half an exasperated shout. Vik was holding him down.

You stepped back from the wall, between the two falling bodies, the first man’s head rolling across Vik's floor. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Vik growled, forcing Jackie back onto his back. “Sit the fuck back and let me work.”

There were something like ten bullets in the bowl. They ranged in caliber, and he was sewing as he went, keeping what he could. There were some other bits that couldn’t be salvaged in a trash can next to the operating table.

“He supposed to be awake?”

“No,” Vik answered. “Which tells me I definitely misjudged his capacity for pain and anesthesia.”

“Centzon,” Jackie said from the table, as if Vik wasn’t actively dialing up his anesthetic.

“Gotcha,” you murmured, picking up some plastic from a roll in the corner of the room to cover the bodies until they could figure out what to do with them. Vik was older, had seen his share of Night City’s capability of blood letting, but there was something dysphoric about being in the same room with two dead bodies and him.

You went up the stairs to find Misty. Instead of meeting Misty as intended, she received a message from an unknown sender.

I have been in contact with your shady fixer. If you want to live to see tomorrow, it would be best if we met. Tom’s Diner. Two hours.

You grimaced. Fuck. You didn’t know who it was – the contact was left intentionally unknown.

A second message came through the feed.

V? Have you heard from Jackie?

Guadalupe Welles rarely missed a beat, huh?

You called her first. You weren’t going to worry about meeting some asshole at Tom’s Diner, whoever they were.

“V?” Mama Welles said. She looked bewildered to get a call.

“Listen,” You bleated. “Jack’s at Vik's. He’s… doing fine enough. Given the circumstances.”

Mama Welles shut her eyes. You couldn’t decide what she was trying to hide. Sorrow? Fear? Disappointment? “W-what happened?”

There were few times in the half year that you had known Mama Welles that you got the notion that what you said next wasn’t important, that it wouldn’t affect what would come next. She knew her sons. All of her sons. Even Jack’s sister, Melissa, was in the life. But it didn’t get easier, testing the waters, and you could feel it.

“We… Jack and me, we –” You took a deep, heavy breath. It didn’t make you feel any better. “We stole something from Arasaka, the situation went south. Jack… Almost didn’t make it. He’s – He’s doing well.” It never got easier telling her what it was. You and Jack had screwed up before during a gig, sure. But nothing like this. Nothing that looked like one or both might not recover.

In the middle of the silence, you went inside Misty’s. She was on her computer, and glanced back to meet your eyes, instantly noting you were on holo.

“Should I come?” Mama Welles asked.

“I.. I don’t know if Jack would want you to see him like that. But… I think in a normal situation, like if he was sick, he’d want you there. You know that, ma.”

“A normal situation? What’s a more normal situation than this?” Mama Welles’s laugh caught you off guard, and you chuffed, not sure if you should laugh, too.

She was right. Had there ever been a time in Night City, in your life in Charter Hill, in the one you are living now, where something like this wasn’t completely average? You weren’t going to mention the ‘Saka fucks. You weren't going to mention that Jack was comparatively wide awake through an active slice and dice. God, there were just some things mothers shouldn’t know.

“Don’t come,” you whispered. “I’ll bring him by once Vik's got him finished up. Could be a couple hours, but we’ll crack a couple cervezas and laugh about it, right?”

Mama Welles sniffed, giving you a kind of… Mischievous look, the corners of her lips rising. “If you think we must.”

“We should, ma. We should.”

Off the holo, you smiled at Misty. “You’ll never believe what your husband asked for.”

“Husband?” Misty snorted.

“Centzon,” you continued, glowing warm at the sight of Misty’s eyes softening. They stood together like that, softening as the minutes passed. “You should ask him to marry you after this. You should keep him on the straight and narrow.”

“As if you both won’t be doing more gigs within the month, if not the week,” Misty grinned, a sleeved hand at the back of her neck as she rested her elbows at her desk.

You paused, letting her shoulders fall slightly. “I don’t think I want this anymore,” you said. “Major leagues? Who gives a fuck if…” You lifted a hand to yourself. Covered in blood, some dry, some not. Life was like some never ending downward spiral, even when the city loved you. It never got any better and there was no winning, only adjusting one’s expectations. Again, again, and again. Then there was the waking up in the middle of the befores and afters. Before the job. After the job. Onto the next thing, as if the first thing didn’t matter.

Misty shook her head. “Jack wasn’t good at admitting it either, not at first.”

“What?” you snickered. “What am I not admitting?” You came closer to the desk, parking yourself beside Misty.

“You like it,” she murmured, smiling something soft. “You like the danger, you like the abuse. You like the power. You and Jack both.”

You let out a cheap, defensive laugh. Just one, the edge sharp. “I don’t know if it’s that, Mist. I just wanted some Centzon, not a reading.”

Misty nodded, shrugging some. “In the cabinet back there, there’s a bottle for special occasions. Guess this is as special a time as any.” She clicked around on her computer, looking at natural mineral wholesalers.

“I’m sorry there haven’t been more special occasions,” you said, snatching the bottle and heading back down to Vik’s. The interaction had left a bad taste in your mouth – you wished there was some way to make it all up. Start all over. Choose differently. As often as the city overlooked big things, little things, she could do this for you and Jackie, right? Just this once?

Back inside Vik’s, Jackie was getting sewn up, Vik joined by a secondary arm connected to an operative AI. It appeared to be cutting time in half, maybe even a quarter, even if Vik was pointing every once in a while to where the next stitches had to go.

Jack seemed more awake than ever, seemingly having simply chosen to remain awake. He said nothing as you moved to sit beside him, putting plastic cups from a stack on Vik’s desk on the metal table between you both.

“You should go home… Get some rest,” Jack drawled, lifting the face mask as you poured him some tequila.

“Aren’t you in pain?” you asked. You poured your own cup, getting warmer in the chest in spite of the cold air funneling down through the vents. Vik said it helped with sterilization, but all it was doing was making the goosebumps on your skin rise.

“What’re we at, Viky? Fifteen?”

“Seventeen, two in a major artery,” Vik replied without missing a beat.

“I think that’s more painful than a half anesthetized op, chica,” Jackie replied. “‘Sides. Tequila makes it aaaall go away anyhow.”

You both touched glasses, a squeaky sort of clink hitting the air. “Then… I guess I will go home.”

Jackie suddenly looked severe. “My mama called mid op, said she’ll come get me when it’s all over. Dunno how that’s supposed to happen, what with Watson being shut down and all. But… I think it’ll be alright tomorrow. Just you wait.” His features smoothed and softened. He downed his tequila, and you fought the urge to tell him more about what you were dealing with.

You were sure he could guess between the bodies on the floor, the call from his mother. But you hadn’t said anything about the mysterious invitation for a scop burger from Tom’s. Instead of telling him anything about it, you opted to just point at Dying Night. “You keep this for tonight,” you told him, making his eyes go all dark. “Just until your ma picks you up. I won’t need it.” You nodded to the fucks still on the floor, covered up in plastic. “Dunno where your pieces went in the shitstrom, but… Yeah. Anyway.”

You never really were good at being sappy, huh?

After helping Vik dump the bodies, knowing the NCPD would be more worried about two dead corpos than who they attacked, you eventually did make your way home. You eventually got the notification that Jackie and Misty were both together, at Mama Welles’s, somewhat to Mama Welles’s chagrin. She didn’t like Misty, thought she was weird. Plus, though she never said it, Misty wasn’t like Jackie’s exes. Like Monica or Jazelle, whoever the fuck.

You took the stairs today, which was absolutely no joke in a megabuilding. But you didn’t mind climbing up the circling cascade of stairs, peeping the small square of sky in the uppermost roof of the building every once in a while. It was just peeps fooling around, eating their food, talking their shit. Multiple radio stations going, Max Mike cutting inbetween like a ghost spouting his schizo rants like Gary the Prophet outside Misty’s. After a few floors, you did end up on the elevator. A slow, gentle ride, to what looked like the continuation of your life as it was.

Until you got to the floor beneath yours, and you saw him. The man from Konpeki, the man from No Tell. And worse, Dex was with him, looking absolutely fussed. Even under the reflection of his glasses, you could see the tremble in his lips, the raised bar of his brows at every quiet word this man shared with him.

They were passing food stalls, couples and throuples leaned back on the edges of the floor railings.

You let out a breath from flared nostrils. Night City didn’t let everyone win all the time, right? That was the fun, wasn’t it?

Swallowing back your pride, you realized Misty was right. You did like this. Knowing they hadn’t seen you yet, and you still had time to turn back, to go somewhere else, or even to get a drop on them. If it wasn’t for the fact you didn’t like shitting where you ate, you might’ve even have just ended the whole shit story right here and gone home like it wasn’t anything.

But if that man couldn’t bring you in, who would? Smasher? Somebody else? Another gaggle of gangoons? The fuckin’ Steel Dragons?

Fuuuuck.

That was it, then. It was now or never. So… You just walked over to them, dancing between the small crowd of people lined up at a food stall. “What a surprise,” you said, giving Dex the ol’ up and down. “The fuck are you doing here? At my fuckin’ building?”

Dex let out an awkward laugh. “As if y’weren’t supposed to show the fuck up at the motel.” He rolled his shoulders, craning his neck to look down at you. “We got some things to go over.” He nodded toward the man, whose eyes were scanning you.

“Who are you?”

“Takemura Goro,” he answered, with little to no emotion in his voice. “You were someplace you shouldn’t have been just earlier. I’m not here to punish you for it. I need your help.”

You blinked. “And you expect me to just, what? Take you up to my place?”

“Uh, yeah, we fuckin’ do,” Dex said, smiling sardonically, tossing his head back. He lifted his vest to show off his piece hanging from a holster against his chest.

“Fuckin’ try me,” you growled, only to feel Takemura’s hand on your shoulder, the other flying to Dex’s.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you. Take us upstairs, thief.”

You barked a laugh pretending to be a cough. “Sure,” you said, scowling at Dex, hardly offering a glance to Takemura.

Inside your h10 apartment, you sat on the edge of the bed, Dex sat on the couch, and Takemura seemed to see it best to stand between the both of you.

“See your tail’s faithfully tucked between your legs, Dex,” you said casually, as if that was just the conversation you wanted to have. “As if you hadn’t planned to off my ass at the motel. Real choom behavior.”

Dex just snorted a dark laugh. “I won’t lie. That was the plan, for sure. I thought you’d just killed the fuckin’ emperor. And now here we are, Saburo’s bodyguard between us. Lucky for you, though. He’s the one who decides what happens now.”

“He says the theft was planned on the request of a woman named Evelyn Parker,” Takemura said, his hands clasped in front of him. “You know how to reach her?”

You pursed your lips. “Dunno. She’s probably long gone by now. Her whole heist went to shit. Lost Bug, almost lost Jack.” You didn’t want Takemura finding her. You didn’t want Dex to know you had the chip, as if it would’ve mattered anyway.

“Your holo records indicated that you had been in touch with her as early as a few hours ago,” Takemura said, making you go red in the face.

“She didn’t agree to meet me. Said she was tied up, and hasn’t contacted me since,” you answered. “What’s she got to do with anything anyway?”

“Collecting evidence,” Takemura replied. “So that when I can stand before the board at Arasaka Tower, I can explicitly show that this was the doing of his last surviving son. How reckless he was, allowing anything to happen beneath the strength of the Arasaka name.” His own lips seemed to tighten, face blue lit by the holo ads rotating from the ceiling beside him.

“Hmm,” you said. “Guess you want the whole crew back together. The ones that survived, anyway.”

“In a manner of speaking,” Takemura said, taking some steps backward, seemingly interested in the items you kept around your house.

Dex watched with hollowed, tense eyes as Takemura slowly crept away, even poking at items in your wardrobe. After what seemed like a silent eternity, Dex said, “Well, in a manner of speaking, I don’t. This was supposed to be my comeback.” He reached under his vest and you reached into the shelves in the wall of your bed cubby.

Dex shot a round, and you threw your knife.

The city, she gives and takes in the same breath, doesn’t she?

#cyberpunk 2077 #femv #johnny silverhand #jackie welles #vik vektor #misty olszewski #liar.exe #johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand x v #silverv

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zevrra · 9 months ago

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silver heart; clouded judgement—

𖥔 ࣪˖ ⊹₊ ⋆

synopsis: after the heist mission, upon hearing the bad news about how their life is going to go; V is comforted by Vik who wishes he could do more.

tags: 18(+), cyberpunk 2077, lil angsty, lil sad oops, two povs (maybe i dunno i tried), hurt/comfort, v(y/n) x viktor, a lil underlining feelings, one-shot, tw for mention of character death, spoilers if you have not played the game too!

Viktor Vektor. He was the best goddamn ripperdoc in all of Night City. He had always been there for you. Always patched you up when you needed it. Gave you the best of the best cyberware he could get his hands on and never expected anything back. You always paid your dues to the old timer, always.

So why now, when you needed him the most, he couldn’t help you? You survived breaking into Arasaka Tower. Jackie died but you survived. You were shot in the damn head and somehow survived but now? Now you had months, maybe weeks to live because of some stupid chip in your head.

“Vik please. You gotta help me,” You plead to the older man. He sits before you, exhausted. You don’t know how long you had been asleep but you knew he had been looking after you. If he could save you from the bullet lodged in your fucking skull why couldn’t he take out a stupid chip? “Tell me what I need to do, please.” You beg but Vik just sighs.

“I wish I could kid. The relic inside your neurolink it’s…” He begins, following up with a shake of his head. He moves closer to your bedside. A hand touches your shoulder in reassurance but the look on his face tells you it’s terrible news. “It’s already seeing you, your soul, as a threat to its host. The data encrypted on the chip began overwriting your own the second you died. There’s nothing I can do.”

Even if you had heard him explain it to you in simpler terms a million times, you would never understand. It was your body after all. You were still alive, soul intact. Why can’t your own body recognize you? Even worse, you got stuck with a terrorist taking over your body. Truly how long would it be before you ceased to exist?

A sharp pain to your head cripples you and your thoughts. You can’t help but cry out in agony, a hand flying to your head in some pathetic attempt to stop the pain. Vik’s hand squeezes your shoulder but he can’t do much more than to relieve the pain that plagues you. He hands over a couple of pills and you swallow them without hesitation.

All of this was happening far too fast. You were on top of the world days ago. Pulling off the biggest heist of your life. The death of Saburo by his own son. Jackie dying in your arms. Your own untimely death and the miracle of coming back to life, only to be told you too were going to die a horrible, horrible death. Where you would simply be replaced by some data on some stupid fucking chip.

“I’m so sorry V.” Vik mumbles softly. The hand on your shoulder moves to your cheek. His thumb wipes away tears you didn’t know you had been crying.

You lean into his touch, sobbing into his hand. “I don’t wanna die Vik.” You weep as the tears begin to fall.

Vik frowns deeply. His hand slides from your cheek down your back as he wraps his arms around you. Hugs you close to his body. “I know, kid. I know.” He mumbles into the crown of your hair.

Your bottom lip wobbles before you finally let loose. Your arms move to wrap around his back, hands pressed against his shoulder blades as you sob into his chest. His touch is soothing but it does nothing to truly comfort the agony going on in your head. It was a start though.

“There’s nothing I can do.” Viktor whispers. How could he let this happen to you. You meant more to Vik than he’d like to vocally admit in the moment, yet maybe he should’ve. Should’ve a long time ago. Because now, you sit before him like a broken shell of your former self. Dazed, confused, angry, hurt, and saddened.

And it was all his fault.

He of course blames himself. He should’ve warned the two youngsters about working with such a well-known fixer like Dex. Well-known for dumping bodies in the river after he hired the cheapest mercs he could find. But when you came to him to tell him the good news…you were so excited. Running into his clinic, laughing about how you were going to be a legend in Night City with this newest job. Even going so far as to beg him to install some new cyberware. Which you had never requested to have been done before. How could he say no to you?

Well, he fucking should have.

Oh god how he should’ve told you no. He was too weak to those pretty eyes and now because of his stupidity you were going to die. And he could only watch.

“I’m so sorry V.” He mumbles sorrowfully. Placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you in any way he could. In all his years of being a doctor, never in his life would he have thought he’d never be able to cure someone. Especially someone he cared so deeply for.

Always thought he would be your savior. And now with Jackie gone too, could he really help anyone? Was he even worthy to be a doctor anymore?

Behind his glasses he watches as the tears begin to fall. Jackie’s death was enough of a reason to cry, but V had held out. Wrapping up their emotions in a suffocating bundle. Yet now upon learning about their own death, and how he himself would be unable to help at all, sends the tears finally over the edge. And Vik could only watch.

His arms move to hug around V. He presses his face into your hair as wail after wail wracks your body. Sobs of not wanting to die beat against his chest and directly into his heart. Every pained cry stabs him like a knife. Why couldn’t he do more for you? Why out of all the low lives in this godforsaken fucking city did it have to be V? As someone who deserved none of the pain and heartbreak thrust upon them. You were a kind soul who should’ve had everything.

Now, because of him, you would end up with nothing but flowers placed at your grave.

#viktor vektor #viktor x reader #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk v #viktor x v #viktor x you #where v is you #you are v #fluffy zevrra #fluff #cyberpunk angst #light angst #Vik is so dreamy #you can’t tell me he doesn’t blame himself #sorry if this is bad 😭#hurt/comfort

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