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quickhacked · 2 years

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Chapter >> 2 [x] Characters >> Ivan Dupoint (oc), Mikhail Koshechkin (oc), Ravager (oc), Vincent Mayer (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc), a long list of side characters, [redacted] Total >> 9.2k words Warnings >> Blood mention, chess :/, torture mention, violence mention

‘May I come in?’

Vincent patiently waited at the door of the bathroom, knowing it was unlocked yet hesitant to open it himself. He heard the voice of Vitali on the other side, speaking softly to Mikhail; too muffled for Vincent to understand what he was saying, yet still loud enough for him to hear the exhaustion dripping from his words.

It was already far past midnight. Vincent had only just arrived home; he had decided to hang around the office for a little longer, to take care of unfinished business in Vitali’s absence and to give other mercs an update on the situation. Not his brightest idea- he was about as exhausted as the rest of them, battered and bruised from earlier that evening and he had nearly fallen asleep behind the wheel on his way home.

The door carefully opened and Vitali appeared in the doorway. He still wore the same outfit as earlier; though he had taken off his chest armor as well as his holsters, and his dark gray henley had several large blood stains in it and his black cargo pants were covered in water and soap.

‘Hey, baby,’ Vincent quietly said, stepping forward and kissing Vitali on the cheek. He made sure to move slowly, and kept his hands to himself- Vitali was always a little jumpy after combat situations, and especially considering the severity of the one they had found themselves in that day, Vincent knew to watch his footing around him.

‘Thank you for staying behind,’ Vitali mumbled, his eyes closed when Vincent pulled back. ‘I hope they didn’t give you too much trouble.’

‘It’s all good, no worries.’

Partially a lie. Vincent had handled it well, but the entire office had been chaos once again, comparable to the time Vitali’s cargo trucks had been intercepted, or comparable to- well, the attack, of course. Still less so, but exhausting nonetheless.

Vitali glanced over his shoulder and stepped aside, now allowing Vincent to look further into the bathroom; the bathtub shoved against the wall on the left side of the room was occupied by Mikhail, sitting with his back toward the door and his arms and legs pulled close to his body.

It had all happened so fast.

One moment, they had been doing paperwork together during a quiet afternoon at the office. And the next, they had been fighting side by side against a horde of mercenaries and their people, raiding the place like it was nothing but a fucking toy store to them; and to make it even worse, Vitali had been absent at the time, leaving his mercs entirely to their own devices.

But as sudden as the attack had started, it had been over as well. No casualties, only a handful of injuries- yet they had still suffered a loss, as Mikhail had been nowhere to be found.

Vincent slowly walked closer to the bathtub, pulling one of the wooden stools near the sink with him and he sat down next to Mikhail. Said man did not even look up, nor did he flinch when Vincent reached for the tub and checked the water’s temperature with his fingers- the water was hot, yet Mikhail was still visibly shivering.

Vincent had followed them. Had tracked them down all the way to a construction site- one of the Broker’s vantage points, not much to his surprise- but had found it abandoned, and it had remained untouched from that moment on, no longer in use by the fixer’s mercenaries now that Vincent had shown his face around.

He had not been able to find Mikhail. And neither had anyone else.

‘Has he talked yet?’ Vincent asked, glancing at Vitali as he joined him, sitting down on a stool as well with his leg stretched out to the side.

‘Barely.’ Vitali clearly tried his best to hold it together, but the slight tremble in his voice gave him away. ‘Has not even been able to look me in the eyes, yet.’

It hadn’t taken them all too long to find a lead, though; a man by the name of Ravager, ex-Maelstrom, now one of the Broker’s mercenaries- and a fierce one at that. More cyberware than human, and whatever little sliver of humanity he had left in him was just another representation of that.

Vincent reluctantly reached out for Mikhail’s face, stopping the moment Mikhail leaned away from him; his eyes were unfocused when they finally found Vincent’s, and he looked- he looked scared, almost.

‘It’s just me,’ Vincent quietly said, slightly lowering his hand but still holding it close, as if he was waiting for permission to close the distance. He repeated himself in broken Russian, and added- ‘I’m not gonna hurt you.’

Ravager had hurt him. Plenty.

Vincent and Vitali had not heard the full story yet, but Ravager’s factory had already done most of the work; the tools they had found there, the torture rooms and the remains of other people- corpses, though not always entirely in one piece-

Mikhail slightly leaned in to Vincent again and shivered when Vincent’s fingertips collided with his cheek. Vincent softly caressed his skin, until Mikhail closed his eyes. Then, he carefully moved his hand up a bit; there was still some dried up blood covering Mikhail’s forehead, causing strands of his ash blond hair to stick together.

He had been captured for only a few days. Still, it had been too long. Vincent dreaded finding out what Ravager’s people had done to him exactly, and the thought of it all alone already caused his blood to boil.

‘Am I allowed to wash your hair?’ Vincent asked. He knew it was of no use trying to coax Mikhail toward a conversation about his captivity- they would be lucky if he was going to speak at all, both well aware of the fact Mikhail could go mute for days if something terrible had happened, either to him or someone else.

Mikhail nodded- it was barely a nod, but visible enough for Vincent to understand, and he allowed Vincent to gently pull him back a little until his back touched the end of the tub and his head was closer to the water.

They had rescued him just in time. Ravager’s people were exactly like their boss- stripped from all their humanity and in it for the eddies and, above all, a good time- and they clearly did not draw the line at torture and murder.

But it was over, now. Mikhail was back home, safe, and Ravager’s factory had been left behind littered with corpses and a clear message for him, as well as his boss- though Vincent wondered how much the Broker had been involved in all of this, considering how out of place it felt compared to every other attack thus far.

‘None of ‘em came after us,’ Vincent said to Vitali, while he carefully scooped up some water to let it stream through Mikhail’s hair. ‘They left the facility, went elsewhere- probably moved districts, but so far we haven’t been able to pick ‘em up on the radar.’

‘Let’s hope it stays that way,’ Vitali mumbled, his eyes still slowly scanning Mikhail’s features. ‘The further they are away from us, the better.’

His answer surprised Vincent a bit.

Ravager was still alive- they knew, because they had not been able to get to him in time when they had attacked the facility to rescue Mikhail. Of course they didn’t know where he had run off to, yet; but Vitali was not one to just let people walk away, especially if they had hurt one of his loved ones.

What was different this time, then?

‘I think if we wanna strike back we gotta act quickly,’ Vincent continued, knowing his words would probably not be nearly enough to convince Vitali to act; yet he still spoke up, too stubborn to just let the conversation end there.

‘If we can track him down, launch another attack before he gets the opportunity to reorganize- we might be able to, you know-’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

Vitali still spoke gently, despite clearly being exhausted and having little patience left in him; possibly only because Mikhail was still in the room with them, but Vincent was not entirely sure.

‘It’s been chaos for weeks now,’ he quietly said, noticing Vincent’s clenched jaw and reaching out to place a hand on his knee; a gentle reassurance, and Vincent carefully allowed the built-up tension to leave his body.

‘Everyone is tired. We have Mikhail back- we are all safe, now, and I would like for things to stay that way. We can deal with Ravager later, just- right now, I- I would like for us to stay together. You understand?’

Vincent understood.

Vitali was right. Ever since the explosion near the escort, since Vincent’s fight with some mercs, since the cargo delivery went wrong- since Ravager’s raid- the entire office had been upside down. Eddie and Lauren were both still out of commission, the latter only awake for a few days now; and the encounters with the Broker’s mercs they’d had in the meantime had not done the rest of Vitali’s network much good.

Vincent understood- Vitali felt guilty. He had left so briefly, only to return to a mess bigger than anything he had ever had to handle before. Mikhail taken, Vincent on the hunt, mercs injured and their supplies raided and sabotaged- and he had blamed himself for it all.

Vincent understood. But as much as he wanted to answer Vitali-

He said nothing.

Instead, he grabbed a bottle of shampoo and began soaping Mikhail’s hair, gently massaging his scalp as he worked. Mikhail leaned in and rested heavily against the side of the tub to move closer to him, and he exhaled deeply while Vincent brushed his fingers all the way through his hair.

Vitali watched in silence, his hand still on Vincent’s knee. He briefly opened his mouth to speak, but visibly changed his mind- and instead, he just gave Vincent’s leg a soft squeeze and pulled back his hand.

‘How are you feeling?’ Vincent asked Mikhail, a weak attempt at shifting the conversation and not even expecting a reply- though much to his surprise, Mikhail actually responded.

‘I’m tired.’ His voice was barely audible, and hoarse from the amount of screaming he had done earlier that evening. ‘My back hurts. And my head.’

Okay, a horrible attempt at shifting the conversation, then.

Not surprisingly, Mikhail’s words only made Vincent angrier and he tightly gripped the edge of the tub to prevent himself from storming out of the bathroom and leaving home, to go back outside and scour all of Night City to find Ravager and-

‘We can’t just do nothing,’ he promptly said. Instant regret hit him, and he quickly moved his hands back to the water to scoop up some more and rinse Mikhail’s hair.

‘I know.’

Vincent had never heard Vitali sound as defeated as in that moment.

He slightly turned his head to look at him, a painful hesitance in his movements- and the look in Vitali’s eyes instantly made him look away again, unable to tell who the anger in them was meant for.

Vitali was rarely angry. Sure, he could get frustrated at times, but the pure, seething rage Vincent had seen a lot more on him recently had once been an uncommon sight. Thus far, it had not been directed at him, or any of Vitali’s other mercs- at least, he hoped-

But in that moment… Well, it was a little hard to tell.

‘Can I tell you a story?’ Vitali asked, moving a little closer to the tub to lean on the edge with one elbow. He hesitated for a moment, jaw briefly clenching when his eyes met Vincent’s. ‘I- I am not upset with you. I just… I just want to try and explain myself, if that’s alright.’

Vincent unclenched his own jaw, and quickly nodded.

That helps.

‘When I was younger, my brother always got on my nerves,’ Vitali quietly began. He paused and scoffed softly, momentarily glancing at Mikhail. ‘To put it plainly- he was a fucking cunt. And it got… It got bad at times. To the point Mikhail had to step in.’

Vincent looked at Mikhail, who had opened his eyes upon the mention of his name and had managed to force a small smile out of himself. Vincent gently cupped his cheek again and Mikhail instantly leaned in to his touch, resting his head entirely against Vincent’s hand.

‘He never got punished.’ Vitali’s voice faltered for a moment, though he quickly regained his composure. ‘Always got away with everything; mother told me I was old enough to handle myself and I had to stop being a baby about it, and my father- well, I don’t even think he ever even noticed.’

Somehow, a very familiar situation to Vincent- though he knew it was still different, knowing Vitali was the eldest of his siblings and Vincent himself the youngest. They had not shared the same feelings of responsibility; and that still often reflected in their behavior.

‘I dealt with it myself, most of the time. I would find clever ways to make Daniil regret what he did- nothing serious, of course, please don’t take that the wrong way- but someone had to teach him the things he did and said to me were hurtful and unfair.’

‘Did you get punished for that?’ Vincent asked, already knowing how the story was probably going to end.

‘Usually not, no. Only once, actually.’ Vitali shifted on his seat, pausing again as memories momentarily overtook him.

‘I was fed up with his bullshit,’ he said, a shadow washing over his face. ‘Normally I could control myself, but- I lashed out. Screamed at him, told him exactly how I felt- and, well, he started crying. He was told to “man up” by mother, but she also gave me house arrest. For the rest of the month. Was only allowed to leave my room for bathroom visits and dinner.’

‘Dinner?’ Vincent repeated, voice unwillingly a little louder than before. ‘And- breakfast? Lunch?’

Vitali simply shrugged. ‘Not important, apparently. But Mikhail brought food to my window nearly every day. Even my father brought me some, on occasion. But that’s not my point, here.’

He paused again, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he looked back up at Vincent.

‘I lashed out, and suffered direct consequences,’ he said. ‘Had never happened before, because I had always acted clear-headed- except that once. And right now? Everyone is tired. Everyone feels like shit, and I- I don’t think things will turn out the way we want them to if we rush this now.’

Vincent averted his gaze and lowered his hands, a sudden wave of embarrassment rushing through him; Vitali was right, as per usual, and he felt bad having brought any of it up in the first place.

‘We’ll get our revenge, in time,’ Vitali quietly said, reaching out again to gently touch Vincent’s shoulder. ‘But right now, I think we should focus on staying together- all of us. I do not want anyone else to get hurt. Especially the two of you.’

Vincent found himself unable to speak and quickly nodded, the knot in his throat nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

He looked at Mikhail again, and carefully brushed a wet strand of his hair out of his face. Mikhail immediately reacted- but instead of pulling away like Vincent had expected him to do, he leaned in closer until his head rested comfortably against Vincent’s shoulder.

‘Will you stay?’ he quietly asked, his breath shaky against Vincent’s skin. An unexpected question, and Vincent loosely wrapped his arms around Mikhail’s shoulders and neck before responding.

‘Of course,’ he answered, a shiver running down his spine when some water trickled down his neck into his t-shirt. He glanced at Vitali again, and was met with a look of relief- he reached out his hand and took Vitali’s, then pulled him closer to hug him with one arm and plant a reassuring kiss on his cheek.

As much as he wanted to go after Ravager, Vitali made a good point; and Mikhail needed them, both of them, and Vincent knew it was of no use to try and track down the merc himself.

So he stayed.

For a little while, that is.

The poorly lit room was suffocating, weighing down heavily on Vincent’s chest and making it difficult for him to breathe; each raspy exhale scoured the inside of his windpipe and the lack of oxygen kept him in a constant state of near-fainting.

He was bound to a chair, wrists and ankles and waist and neck held in place tightly by metal clasps. His heartbeat painfully thrummed in his side, where he’d been kicked repeatedly earlier that day- no stab wounds or bullet wounds yet, much to his relief, but most definitely a broken bone or two.

Vincent grunted softly as he tried to look up; the instant he did that, the metal clasp around his neck put pressure on his throat and he almost lost his ability to breathe entirely, to the point he quickly dropped his head back when a rush of panic overtook his muscles.

Yes, yes- of course he had not been able to sit still. Had lasted a record period of two days at home before his hands had gotten so itchy he’d just had to get back to work. It was fine, though, he had been allowed to go back to the office; Vitali had been at home as well anyway, to take care of Mikhail.

And at first, Vincent had just helped out around the office, like he had promised Vitali. He’d even spoken with clients- a terrifying experience he really did not want to go through ever again, now with a sudden newfound respect for Vitali on top of the respect he’d already had for him- and he had taken care of some small gigs that hadn’t been closed yet since the Broker had taken the stage.

But it hadn’t stayed at that for long. Of course not.

Vincent was fucking pissed.

Mikhail had barely slept, haunted by nightmares and memories, and he had often woken up screaming and in tears, begging for it all to stop. Vitali had not wanted him to sleep anywhere other than in their bed, so naturally the two of them had also had trouble closing their eyes at night. Vincent hadn’t minded at all- he wanted to be there for his friend, even if that meant losing sleep, but all of it together-

It had only made him angrier than he had already been.

Of course he hadn’t been able to stay put.

Vincent tried to move again, going for his legs this time. He was able to turn his feet slightly, but did not have enough space between his ankles and the metal clasps to pull them free; and his arms were very much dealing with the same issue.

They hadn’t done anything to him. Yet. He’d been brought in after his solo attack on the building- a different facility than before, and it had been hell to track it down- and after putting him in the chair they had left him there, to wait for Ravager’s return.

Ravager.

Vincent shivered by the thought of him. He had only seen him from a distance, a few times; Mikhail’s capture had unfortunately not been his last attack, and he had continued to be a pain in the ass for Vitali’s mercs over the last week or two- and he was terrifying.

Vincent dreaded seeing him up close.

He was no longer sure why he had decided to go on his path of revenge. It was something that he had wanted to do- of course, Mikhail was in pain because of Ravager- but now it just seemed stupid and dumb. He had gone after the guy all by himself; had only asked Judy for help once when he’d had trouble figuring out how her equipment worked, but that was about it.

Normally it was Mikhail who helped Vincent with his dumb suicide missions, sharing about the same level of impulse control and the burning desire to deal with a soluble situation as fast as possible; but now he had been unable to do so, and it had been Vincent alone against all of Ravager’s people. Worst part is, he had actually been doing fairly well; until the explosion, and he’d been blasted off his feet and then kicked down until he had lost consciousness.

Vincent was still unsure why they had not just killed him.

His eyes had finally gotten used to the semi-darkness surrounding him and he took a moment to look around. Apart from the chair, there was not much else to see; dark walls and barely any furniture apart from some lockers, an empty desk and a hospital trolley right on the edge of his peripheral.

In the distance, he could hear a door open. Footsteps followed- two sets of them, slowly but surely approaching the room Vincent was stuck in. His heart jumped and sped up significantly, and he momentarily lost his vision as he gasped for breath.

Please, no- Not yet-

But the door already opened.

Ravager was a tall man with muscular build- though because of the various cybernetic body parts connected to his person it was hard to tell what was muscle and what was machine. His jet black hair was slicked back, framing a face of mostly cyberware; blood red eyes with black sclera, plating covering his temples and the bridge of his nose, and a broad cyberjaw decorating the lower half of his head.

The few bits and pieces of pale white skin he still had looked almost rotten, for some reason. Vincent had not been able to tell before; but he could see it clearly this time round, now that Ravager was standing right beside him, looking down on him with a wide grin on his face- revealing pearly white, sharpened teeth.

‘Well, well, well,’ Ravager said, his raspy voice carrying through the entire room and bouncing off the walls. ‘If it isn’t one of Night City’s most feared mercenaries. Gotta be honest, I still find that a little hard to believe- You are surprisingly small.’

In any other situation, Vincent would have easily been able to come up with a clever response; yet in that moment he found himself frozen in fear, unable to even string together a coherent enough sentence in his head to reply with.

He watched in silence as the other person- Ravager’s right hand man, a skinny guy with almost as much cyberware as his boss- walked around the chair, and placed something on the trolley just out of Vincent’s line of sight. However, he was able to tell by the soft metal clank alone it was probably a handgun.

‘Good job, though- you found me again. Not many would’a been able to pull that one off.’ Ravager walked a little closer and Vincent instinctively flinched when the man patted him on his arm with cold, cybernetic fingers. ‘Clever idea, hacking into the GPS of our scout. Reminded me I gotta take those goddang computers out of the vehicles before I put ‘em back on the road.’

Vincent still could not speak. He was a little unsure why; he had been in similar situations before, many times before, yet for some reason this specific one was getting to him even though nothing had happened yet.

Yet.

That was probably the issue.

The other man handed something to Ravager- a device, similar to the ones Vincent knew were used by the NCPD to identify people with. Ravager held it in front of Vincent’s face, and patiently waited as the screen on his side lit up, accompanied by a bright, red light on the other, blinding Vincent instantly.

‘What are you doing?’ he finally managed to ask. He didn’t even want to know all that bad; but it was nice to have control of his vocal cords again.

‘Scanning you, clearly,’ Ravager simply answered. ‘Just a formality- to get your detes into the system. Saves me the paperwork when we’re done with you.’

Ah. Okay.

Vincent lay unmoving as Ravager continued, knowing it was of no use to attempt and break free- he knew he was better off saving his energy for a better opportunity, and especially considering the fact he still had trouble breathing it was probably in his best interest to just stay as calm as the situation allowed him to.

As calm as the situation allowed him to. Not all that much, at that moment. Ravager had started to hum a tune and scanned Vincent a second time, a hint of a frown taking shape on his face; though it was a little hard to tell, considering he barely had eyebrows anymore.

‘Interesting,’ he mumbled, double-checking the screen then turning it to the other man, who stared at it with a similar look on his face. ‘Picks up a whole second person, for some reason- info’s all jumbled. What’d you do? Illegally download a new fucken’ personality?’

‘You don’t know the half of it,’ Vincent dryly answered.

Hehe. Got ‘em.

‘Well! Problem for later, I guess.’ Ravager stuffed the device away and huffed, for some reason appearing to be a little pissed about it. ‘It was all so much easier with your friend, but- whatever.’

Mikhail.

The mention of him made Vincent’s blood boil again. He had probably been in that position as well- a different facility, a different chair, but tied up exactly like that- with Ravager standing over him like a predator looking at its prey.

‘Oh- Don’t ya worry, we made sure he had a fun time,’ Ravager suddenly said. Vincent looked back up at him; the man had clearly noticed the shadow that had washed over his face, and was staring at him with another lingering, toothy grin.

‘He really didn’t wanna talk, but- that’s fine. We’ve got our ways to make people talk. He dropped some nice info about your fixer- and about you. Stuff we already knew, o’course, so that was unfortunate. The look of guilt on his face was worth it, though.’

None of that was new information to Vincent. Mikhail had already told them about it- once he had been able to speak again. Though he had still been barely comprehensible, sobbing so uncontrollably it had nearly caused both Vitali and Vincent to cry as well; but the information he had told Ravager about them was not nearly as important as his safety and well-being, and of course neither of them had been upset about it.

But still, it got to him. He knew Mikhail felt guilty, but to hear it out of Ravager’s own mouth-

A sudden alarm cut through the room and Vincent flinched, throat tightening painfully when he accidentally lifted his head and the metal clasp around his neck punched the air out of his windpipe. Ravager and his right hand man both jolted up, and shared a somewhat panicked look; but then, triumph washed over Ravager’s face, and he left the room without saying another word.

The other man left as well, and Vincent was alone again; though he hoped it would not be for long, knowing exactly why the alarms were blasting through the facility. A relieved smile took shape on his face and he relaxed in the chair, eyes briefly fluttering shut when he realized soon he wouldn’t be tied down anymore, and he would be reunited with-

He was relieved they had found him so quickly. Finding Mikhail had taken longer, and rescuing him from the building had not been easy either; everything had looked exactly the same and they had needed to travel deep into the factory to even reach him in the first place.

Vincent vividly remembered it, though. How they had moved through the hallways together, losing more and more people the further they traveled- they had to stay behind to fight off Ravager’s men, keeping them busy while Vitali and Vincent continued on. How they had found Mikhail, how he had barely been able to walk, and how he had clung to Vincent so tightly-

Only a few days. Yet still, still, it had been way too long.

Vincent closed his eyes, exhaling shakily as he tried to picture Vitali- he was probably there as well, unable to sit back and let others handle things for him, on his way to Vincent, killing anyone who got in his way-

Should he call out for him? Let him know where he was?

‘I’m here!’ Vincent yelled as loud as he could, not giving it a second thought and slightly moving in the chair as he tried to peek around the door into the hallway. ‘Guys- I’m over here!’

Minutes had gone by. They were probably nearby by now, right? This facility was a lot less confusing than the other one. The room Vincent was being held in was probably essentially right around the corner of the entrance.

Vincent nervously bit the inside of his cheek, listening to the distant sounds of a scuffle. He could hear some screams, and some gunfire- but it was a lot less than he had expected, and the longer he waited the more it seemed to die down until it was no longer audible over the alarms.

There had been alarms last time, too. Louder than these, to the point it had nearly overwhelmed Vincent. But he had been able to hold it together, knowing he’d had a job to do- and he couldn’t afford to lose it before ensuring Mikhail’s safety.

It had taken them some time- but they had found him.

They had found him.

The alarms stopped.

And Vincent was still alone.

They brought him back to the previous facility the next day.

Not much else had happened, other than the failed scan and the brief scuffle with some intruders; Ravager had not shown his face anymore and Vincent had been left alone with his thoughts for most of the day.

That morning had been more eventful, though. Vincent had in fact managed to fall asleep at some point- cold and hungry and exhausted as hell, and even though his night had remained dreamless it had been nice to lose consciousness for a little while, at least.

But he had been woken up with a solid punch to the face and he’d been dragged off the chair, kicked around a bit for the entertainment of whoever had been in the room with him and he’d been blinded and gagged and tied up with ziplock ties and he’d been thrown violently in the back of a car and they had left him there, once again on a constant brink of passing out because of lack of oxygen.

Vincent nearly fell to the floor when he was suddenly pushed forward, mind instantly pulled back to reality and away from the events that had happened earlier that day; he was already there now, walking the same hallways he had ran through while rescuing Mikhail yet this time he had no idea where he was going, and what to expect.

He wasn’t scared. At least, that’s what he was telling himself. And it helped, for the time being- his head was surprisingly clear and he looked around intently, memorizing each turn they took to map out the facility’s layout in his head.

Soon enough they arrived at a door at the end of a hallway. Vincent was yanked back momentarily, and he stood back as two of the people bringing him there exchanged some words in a language he didn’t understand.

And for a moment, he saw an opportunity; it was four against one, but he was fast, and a lot stronger than most people thought he was. He could charge forward, ram the two people into the door- use their bodies as shields while freeing his hands from the ziplock ties- steal their guns and flatline them all before they could hurt him-

But he had no idea what was on the other side of the door. And it was too much of a risk.

So he did not move, and watched as the people opened the door- and they pushed him inside.

The room was bigger than Vincent had expected it to be. It reminded him of an office a little bit; though the desks were all shoved to the side, pushed together underneath the blinded windows on his right. All, except one, standing right in the middle of the room with two chairs adjacent to one another and right on top of the desk stood-

A chessboard?

Though that was not what Vincent’s attention was drawn toward.

On the left of the room, lined up against the wall, sat his friends-

All of them.

Including Mikhail and Vitali.

‘Ah, the star of the show. Welcome!’

Ravager’s voice boomed through the room and Vincent’s head snapped up, watching as the cyborg hopped off one of the desks on the other side of the room and slowly began wandering over, arms spread out and another one of his signature grins plastered on his face.

‘Couldn’t get the party started without you,’ he said. ‘Just a little longer, though- gotta wait for my friend to get here.’ A pause, and he glanced at his watch. ‘Dunno what’s takin’ him so long. Should’a gotten here before you.’

Vincent’s heart was going a million miles an hour. His eyes were drawn back toward his friends- fuck, even Eddie and Lauren were there- and his chest tightened painfully, mind wandering back to the day before, when- when he thought they-

He caught Vitali’s gaze. And Vitali’s eyes widened, mouth opening briefly as if to speak- to explain himself, perhaps, or to ask if Vincent was alright- or maybe just to scold him, to ask him- Why? Why did you leave?

But he closed it again, unspoken words lingering in the distance between them, and he defeatedly lowered his gaze.

He looked ashamed.

Vincent was pushed down into one of the chairs and three of the people who had entered with him joined the others that had already been inside; a small army, almost, presumably to keep Vincent’s friends in check.

The fourth stayed behind, and cut Vincent’s hands free- but then also took out their gun and briefly pushed it against the back of his head as a warning, and he knew the moment he would try something- anything- his blood would paint all the chess pieces in front of him the same color.

His eyes were drawn to his friends again. They did not appear injured; not all too terrible, at least, some scrapes and bruises decorating faces and visible arms and necks. Though all of them looked exhausted, drained from every last ounce of energy in their bodies as they sat there- some on their knees, others leaning against the wall- though all carrying the same defeated look in their eyes.

Vincent clenched his jaw. It felt wrong. So wrong- they had come back for him, and would now suffer the consequences of it all- whatever those were going to be.

Oh, had he just not left- had he just listened to Vitali-

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, V. Never got you anywhere before, won’t get you anywhere this time.

Shut up, Johnny.

Hey, I’m right. You know that.

Of course Vincent knew.

Suddenly, the door behind him opened again, though Vincent was not interested enough to turn around. Ravager, who was standing right beside him at that point, did look up- and grinned again when he noticed who had entered.

‘Ivan! Took you long enough. Come in.’ Ravager glanced at Vincent and tapped him on the shoulder, causing Vincent to flinch. ‘V, meet Ivan Dupoint. Though if I’m not mistaken- you two already know each other.’

Vincent frowned and finally turned his head to look up, his curiosity winning over his fear. He had no idea what to expect; the name did not sound familiar at all, and- not much to his surprise- the man who had entered the room did not look familiar to him either.

Tall, like Ravager, though a tad bit shorter- mostly just because of his hunched posture, and his slightly buckled knees. Short, slicked back hair and a tall forehead, dull gray eyes and a mustache adorning his upper lip- he had facial cyberware similar to Vincent’s, though somewhat asymmetrical and radically out of place in the rest of his face, as if he had attempted to superglue it there himself.

‘Pleased to make your acquaintance?’ Vincent said, the sentence more a question than a statement, and he frowned slightly as he watched Dupoint walk around the desk and sit down opposite of him while unbuttoning the jacket of his slightly too big suit.

‘Or not,’ Ravager mumbled, shrugging and wandering back to the pillar in the middle of the room to lean against it. ‘Fuck if I care, anyway.’

‘No, you were right, Edward,’ Dupoint said, his accent a strange mix of French and a hint of something Scandinavian. ‘We have met before. Curious, though, that V does not remember.’

‘V has had a lot of things on his mind, as of late,’ Vincent dryly said. ‘Please do enlighten me.’

Dupoint glared at him, jaw clenching slightly the moment one of Vincent’s friends snorted- Cato, probably, but Vincent could not check, his gaze still focused solidly on the man opposite of him.

‘Alabaster Whittaker,’ Dupoint plainly said, leaning back into his chair. ‘Rings a bell, perhaps?’

‘Oh- the Zetatech bootlicker? For sure.’ Despite the circumstances, Vincent was only just able to suppress a smile, and he finally turned his head toward his friends. ‘Remind me, boss- What did we call him at the office?’

‘If I am not mistaken you all affectionately nicknamed him “Albie”, at some point,’ Vitali answered, voice still calm and eyes focused straight ahead- though Vincent could tell by the way he clenched his jaw and and held his shoulders just a bit higher than usual, he was also barely holding it together.

‘He was my boss!’ Dupoint sharply said, raising his voice slightly when some light chuckling and snickering filled the room. ‘You stole from him, and- above all- ruined all my precious work. Months and months of calculations and predictions- all gone!’

‘I’m sorry, say what now?’ Vincent cut him off, slightly leaning forward in his seat and immediately- once again- feeling the cold barrel of a gun pressing against the back of his head; though it did not do him much, too confused by the situation to care.

Dupoint clenched his jaw again and leaned in too, face hardened and eyes nearly spitting fire.

‘You knocked over an entire mug of coffee and spilled it all over my laptop,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Whittaker was furious. And fired me on the spot. I lost everything because of you. Everything.’

Vincent sat unmoving, blinking slowly as Dupoint’s words slowly settled in his brain. He felt a strange knot in his chest- a feeling he genuinely could not place, confusion still tightly holding him in a chokehold-

Everything had been leading up to- to this?

‘Well, that’s a little pathetic.’

Judy’s voice shattered the deafening silence and Vincent slowly sank back into his chair, eyes wandering off until they met Judy’s- who appeared just as confused and pissed off as he felt.

‘Is that- Is that why we are all gathered here today?’ Lauren asked. Vincent was relieved to hear her voice; though she still sounded exhausted, and surely this entire situation was not doing her much good.

‘You could have just bought yourself a new laptop, or something,’ Mikhail chimed in now as well, as everyone else quietly started mumbling. ‘Instead of…doing this.’

‘A backup goes a long way,’ Vitali quietly added.

Dupoint opened his mouth to say something, though no sound came out as more insults and remarks were flung his way. Vincent glanced up a little, at Ravager- even he had covered his face with one hand, and was clearly desperately trying to focus on anything other than the scene in front of him.

It was fucking ridiculous.

Vincent genuinely had no idea what to think anymore. Dupoint was not- he was not the man at the top, right? Or was he? If he was, that would be even worse- considering everything that had happened thus far. Had it all been about this?

He looked at Dupoint again and watched him try to silence the small gathering of mercs, stammering and stumbling over his own words without much success-

No, this was not the man at the top. Couldn’t be. Vincent refused to believe it.

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Ravager had finally managed to regain his composure and stepped up, waving a gun around until everyone finally went quiet again.

‘V- You knocked over the man’s coffee,’ Cato quietly whispered, still. ‘How could you?’

‘I mean- I’m sorry, I guess?’ Vincent shared a quick look with Cato- nearly burst into laughter once more- and then turned back to Dupoint. ‘You’re telling me all of this- all of it- is just because I accidentally spilled some coffee on your stupid-’

BANG!

Vincent flinched involuntarily at the gunshot and his teeth clacked together so hard it sent vibrations through his skull. He immediately glanced back at his friends- though none of them appeared hit.

A warning shot.

For now.

‘Not all of it, no,’ Dupoint answered, his voice suddenly surprisingly much in control again. ‘You see, the Broker is in charge here- I am merely here to send a message. From him, to you- or, well…’ He paused, and his gaze wandered off to Vitali. ‘To you, actually.’

Another deafening silence filled the room and Dupoint looked back up at Vincent, a sudden, somewhat creepy smile on his face.

‘Though I thought it would be a great opportunity to make you, V, pay as well. For what you have taken from me. Feels only fair I take something back, no?’

Vincent did not answer.

Dupoint relaxed in his seat and cleared his throat, averting his gaze while pulling up the sleeves of his jacket a bit, and he gestured at the chessboard on the desk in front of them.

‘Today, V, we are going to play a game of chess,’ he said. ‘Fairly simple, I’d think. Do you know how to play?’

Of course Vincent knew how to play. Chess champion back in high school- twice, even. But Dupoint really did not need to know any of that.

‘Sure,’ he shrugged, using all his strength and willpower to keep a straight face. ‘I’m- I’m a quick learner.’

Dupoint stared at him for a moment, and Vincent watched as a sudden twinkle appeared in his eyes and a smile formed on his lips again.

Good.

‘Wonderful! However, there is a catch.’

Ah. Of course there is.

Dupoint reached out toward the board and let his hand hover over Vincent’s pieces. He hummed softly and grabbed one of the pawns, then slowly lifted it up, the bottom of it turned toward Vincent- and the moment he saw what was underneath he felt his throat tighten.

‘Go on, now, don’t be shy- read it,’ Dupoint slowly said, mockery dripping from his voice.

Vincent swallowed heavily, and clenched his jaw before opening his mouth.

‘Cato.’

A brief, but deafening silence fell over the room. Vincent did not dare avert his gaze from the tiny piece of paper taped to the bottom of the pawn.

‘Very good.’ Dupoint placed the pawn back on the board. ‘Now! The rules are simple. We play, one of us wins. You win- nothing is lost. You, your friends, all walk free. For now, that is, of course, “until we meet again” and so on. However, you lose- and each piece I managed to conquer from you, each name taped to the bottom- stays with us. With Ed, specifically. I won’t be staying long.’

‘Don’t-? Don’t call me that,’ Ravager muttered in the background.

‘So- all clear to you, V?’ Dupoint asked, entirely ignoring his colleague and looking back up at Vincent instead. Vincent was unsure how to describe the look on the Frenchman’s face- though the pure triumph and smugness in his eyes made him nauseous.

‘Crystal,’ he answered, eyes unwillingly moving back to his friends for a brief second and he sat up a little straighter, heart suddenly pounding rapidly in his chest once more. ‘White begins. Hit me.’

Even with his knowledge, he was still nervous. Why wouldn’t he be? The stakes were just a tad bit higher this time than merely losing his king- his friends’ lives were on the line now, and Vincent would be lying if he said he still vividly remembered every opening and sequence of moves he had once been taught.

At least they were playing without a timer. Vincent knew he still wouldn’t get all the time in the world, but at least it took away some of the pressure. Sure, there was of course still the cold metal of a gun’s barrel resting comfortably against the back of his head- but that wasn’t new to him.

He watched in silence as Dupoint moved his king’s pawn. A move that told Vincent very little; could be a beginner, could be a pro. Either way, he was going to have to keep up appearances for just a bit longer, his brain still whirring as his muscle memory of the game was only just coming back to him.

Vincent copied Dupoint’s move, putting his own king’s pawn directly against that of his opponent. Dupoint hummed, then moved his knight- and Vincent did the same, making sure to take an extra second to pretend to count the squares before proudly placing it down.

‘Petrov’s Defense,’ Dupoint plainly stated, though for some reason it sounded more like a programmed response rather than an offhand comment. ‘If it was not for the fact you clearly seem to be copying my moves I would’ve believed you actually know what you’re doing.’

‘As I said, quick learner,’ Vincent replied, watching as Dupoint grabbed a second pawn and placed it right next to the one already in the middle of the board. An interesting move; Vincent had not seen that one before.

‘A fully opened center.’ Dupoint paused, raised an eyebrow, and glanced back at Vincent. ‘Do you know what that move is called, V?’

Vincent shrugged, and swallowed his laughter. ‘Dunno. The American Nutcracker?’

A loud snort on his left broke the silence in the room and Dupoint’s head instantly snapped to Vincent’s friends- though it was of no use, as several of them could no longer contain their laughter any longer. Even Vincent had trouble keeping a straight face, and Dupoint was forced to wait until everyone was quiet again before he could continue.

‘Steinitz Attack,’ he said, the tone of his voice slightly less cocky than it had been before. ‘An…aggressive move.’

‘A bold move, if you ask me,’ Vincent answered, a slight tremble in his voice from his once again suppressed laughter.

‘One that gives me an advantage, if you paid any attention at all.’

Dupoint continued to speak, though Vincent was no longer listening to him. His gaze was drawn toward his friends once more- initially to pull a face, or to make a jerk-off motion underneath the table in hopes to draw another quiet snort or some laughter from their lips-

But his eyes caught Vitali. A curious look was plastered on his face; one of his famous stares which always told Vincent he was lost in deep thought, cogs of his brain turning as he pondered whatever was on his mind at the time.

Though now, it was accompanied by a look of recognition.

‘V. Your turn.’

Right. Chess.

A slow setup. Vincent’s mind was elsewhere and he continuously glanced back at his boyfriend, heartbeat suddenly faster again now that he had taken notice of the shift in atmosphere. His distraction soon proved unfortunate- he had not paid enough attention and Dupoint captured one of his pawns without further consequences.

Vincent clenched his jaw as Dupoint slowly flipped the pawn and read the piece of paper taped to its downside.

‘My, my,’ he said, another smile shaping on his face. ‘Thibault. The first of many, I hope.’

‘Kiss my ass, you piece of shit,’ Thibault sneered at him from the sidelines, immediately switching to Canadian French and unleashing a string of swears Vincent only half understood.

The gravity of the situation instantly kicked in again and he was quickly reminded of why he had been so nervous at the start. If Dupoint would win- every captured piece, every captured person- they were going to have to stay.

With Ravager.

And after Mikhail- well, Vincent did not want to find out what he and his people were going to do with them.

He redirected his attention to the board in front of him again. He saw an opportunity; though part of his attack depended entirely on Dupoint’s defense, but given the circumstances it was a risk he was willing to take.

Without hesitation, Vincent captured one of Dupoint’s pawns, clearing half of the center of the board. Dupoint hummed again, and responded by merely moving his bishop- Vincent barely gave him the time to let go of the piece and captured a second pawn, leaving both their kings exposed.

‘Interesting.’

Vincent kept his composure, though his heart was racing in his chest as if he had just ran a marathon. He lowered his hand again, resting it on the edge of the desk as he watched Dupoint think for a few seconds- his hand moved down, and hesitated above his pieces.

He was nervous. Vincent could tell. It was exactly what he had hoped for- by making his own moves as quickly as possible, he was attempting to put more pressure on his opponent. And by the looks of it, he had succeeded at that.

Dupoint finally moved his hand down. He grabbed his king, and moved it one square, to slowly but surely move it back behind his other pieces.

And in response, Vincent castled- rook and king swapping positions, his rook now lined up directly with Dupoint’s king. His eyes slowly moved up, until they met those of his opponent-

‘Check.’

Silence fell over the room as suddenly everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Vincent leaned back in his chair, pushing his head closer against the gun- and as much as he wanted to crack a triumphant smile, he instead kept his composure, eyes piercing straight through Dupoint as he stared him down.

‘Is that allowed?’ Ravager suddenly asked. He had wandered a little closer now that the game had finally started, and for a split second he sounded like a whole different person to Vincent.

‘It is, yes,’ Dupoint mumbled, shifting uncomfortably on his seat. ‘Interesting move, V.’

His change in demeanor was exactly what Vincent had been aiming for.

He was not a professional at the game; but neither was Dupoint. Vincent could tell by the way his eyes shifted across the board, darting from piece to piece as he visibly went over every possible move in his head. An analyst at heart- calculating and cautious, with a decent memory as well, Vincent presumed. Though he knew very well that doing everything by the book was not going to get you very far-

Not in Night City, of all fucking places.

And oh, how Dupoint was desperately trying to hold on to his strategy. Whatever sequences he had planned on, Vincent easily managed to throw him off his rhythm with nearly every move he made. He lost more pieces- Shiro, and Panam- then Huxley, and Eddie- but it did not matter. The path was already clear to him.

Check, check, check-

Constantly locking Dupoint in tight positions, attempt after attempt to force his king into a corner. Pawns were advancing to Vincent’s half of the board, but he ignored them largely- nearly every important player of Dupoint’s little army was already down, leaving him without his defenses in the endgame.

Vincent just had to be quicker, that’s all-

‘Check.’

Oops.

Vincent blinked and snapped out of his trance, a little confused by what had just happened. His eyes trailed the board- and suddenly he noticed his own king, locked between several pieces, with one opening only-

And Dupoint’s bishop was solidly blocking his only way out.

Vincent exhaled sharply. Not over yet- there was still a way out for him, though he was unable to move his king into any direction. He clenched his fist under the table when his eyes finally landed on his queen, and he realized the only way to save himself was by-

Do it.

Vincent swallowed heavily and moved his queen, and captured Dupoint’s bishop. And without hesitation, Dupoint captured the queen with his own pawn.

‘Ah, yes- sacrifices, sacrifices,’ he sighed, twirling the piece around and shooting Vincent a small smile before reading the paper on the bottom. ‘Hmm… Mikhail. Round two, I suppose. Ed, go easy on him this time, yes? We don’t want any casualties. Not least, at least.’

Vincent felt his blood begin to boil once more and he exhaled sharply, jaw clenching tightly when he noticed Vitali bolt forward out of the corner of his eye- he was grabbed by two of Ravager’s people and dragged back in his place violently, and one of them pressed a gun against his head.

His eyes briefly moved to Mikhail, sitting between Panam and Cato, knees pulled to his chest and head resting heavily on Cato’s shoulder as he stared straight ahead- no longer scared, no longer angry-

Just tired. He looked so fucking tired.

Vincent turned back to the board, fighting the urge to leap over the desk and strangle Dupoint with his bare hands- unarm Ravager and kill him with his own gun- emptying the entire clip in his chest before landing the finishing blow, just to make him suffer as much as possible before his heart would give out-

The rook.

Vincent had moved his queen. His rook had been beside it- and now securely guarded the entire row, locking Dupoint’s king in the back. And Dupoint had captured Vincent’s queen- and with that, he had moved his pawn out of the way-

Vincent reached for his second rook, entirely left untouched thus far, and moved it all the way to the other end of the chessboard, locking Dupoint’s king in its place. He leaned back in his seat, a smile finally breaking through his facade, and tilted his head upward ever so slightly, spitting the word out with a venomous sting-

‘Checkmate.’

#nuclearwriting #rbs much appreciated :) <3 #bit long innit! sorry about that LMFAO #anyway here it is. my magnum opus [lie]#do not look too deep into the chess thing i was fighting for my life trying to write something coherent okay ;w; i tried #having a lot of thoughts about this one so i'll be annoying with the self rbs #as always feel free to send asks if you feel like it i love talking about. well. anything LMFAO #but god. vincent. augh. my boy!!!!!! he's so smart!!!!!!! I LOVE HIM #THIS is why i need to write about him more he is so so special. in general. but also to me #but vitali and mikhail kinda stole his spotlight :( my fault entirely but still :(#anyway the continuation of this is gonna be interesting because i already wrote the fic but i'll make a post about that soon!!!#ch:the broker

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