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aceghosts · 2 months

Note

[DISBELIEF]: after the receiver has done something completely unexpected (and reckless) the stunned sender cups their face in their hands while trying to get them to explain why the hell they did it. + Rooney x Yorinobu 💕

Thank you for sending in this prompt! I took some liberties with it while writing it, but I got it done!

[Prompt List]

Summary: In the parking garage after a dinner date, Rooney Shepard and Yorinobu Arasaka are attacked. The event (and Yorinobu's actions) leave Rooney feeling shaken. Title comes from Bring Me The Horizon's Kingslayer. Words: 2.4k Content Warnings: Just canon typical violence, and Rooney's perpetual fear of not being enough to save the people they love. Author's note: Coming up with Restaurant names fucking sucks. That's all.

Taglist (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @alexxmason, @carlosoliveiraa, @captmactavish, @cloudofbutterflies92, @direwombat, @cassietrn, @voidika, @strangefable, @theelderhazelnut, @fourlittleseedlings, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @clicheantagonist

AO3

“What did you think?” Yorinobu asks, pleased with himself. Rare Vibes, an exclusive restaurant, was highly recommended and only served high-end clientèle like himself and Shepard. He looks over to his left, Shepard on his arm as they walk back to his car in the parking garage, a custom-designed Rayfield. They look gorgeous tonight, dressed in all black. Shepard seamlessly blended in with himself and others of similar status. Yet, even in a place like Rare Vibes, he could still see the soldier in them, ocean-blue eyes vigilantly scanning the restaurant for any threats to themself or Yorinobu. Tonight made him realize something important. What if this could be the duo’s life? A future where Shepard stayed, where they helped him take down Arasaka. That sounded magnificent.

“The food was good,” Shepard replies neutrally, leaving Yorinobu wondering what else they could possibly want, “could have used some hot sauce.” He shakes his head, a smile on his lips. Shepard was religious about their hot sauce. “There was something that I enjoyed more than the food.”

Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, he asks, “What would that be?”

They look at him with a slightly shy smile, their cheeks faintly red. “My favorite part of the night was spending time with you. I really enjoyed getting the chance to have a nice date with you like two normal people,” a second later, their smile turns to frown, “or as normal as it could be.”

“Shepard,” He places his hand over their hands, “Life with me will not be what you are used to, but I promise you that you can adapt to it.” Shepard’s frown deepens, seemingly uncomfortable with that fact. It is the reality of his life, and Shepard will need to adapt or leave. Yorinobu hopes that they will adapt to it, hopes that he is worth the temporary discomfort. “It will take time; it does not happen overnight.”

“If you say so.” The two lapse into silence as they continue towards the Rayfield. As the pair reach the car, only a few meters away, Shepard stiffens, their grip on his arm loosening. Yorinobu notices them stealthily looking around, trying not to raise suspicion as they survey the scene. He also knows the look on their face: their mouth set in a grim line and their eyes narrowed. Yorinobu has seen that look when watching Shepard participate in combat tests, focused and lethal.

“Is something the-?”

“Don’t,” Shepard keeps their voice low, leaning in so he will be the only one to hear them, “When you get in the car, call Arasaka Security and get the hell out of here.”

“Will you be in the car with me?”

“No, I won’t.” Yorinobu does not like the determined tone of their voice; he likes the idea of leaving Shepard behind even less. Why does he get the feeling that Shepard is going to do something reckless?

“Please don’t do anything rash.”

"No promises,” He catches a slight smirk before it disappears, a serious look returning as they slip out of his arm, “RUN!”

On Shepard’s command, he runs toward the car, only glancing over his shoulder once he reaches the car. Shepard roundhouse kicks an attacker in the face, sending them crashing towards the ground. Another attacker appears between two cars, rushing Shepard from behind. “Shepard!” He lets go of the car door, turning on his heel to go back to them.

“NO!” They yell, ducking to the left to narrowly avoid a punch. “GET HELP!”

Shepard is right. Despite wanting to run to them, he listens, knowing that he might be more of a burden. Yorinobu knows he can help them by bringing in reinforcements, namely Arasaka security. He would typically avoid Arasaka security, but permission to take Shepard out of the facility was to involve Arasaka Security instead of the police in case of emergency. Jumping into the open car, he turns it on, the door closing as he dials Arasaka security. “Yorinobu-sama, what is the nature-?”

He cuts them off, putting the Rayfield into drive. “Send an evacuation and combat team immediately. Shepard and I are under attack.”

“Yes, Yorinobu-sama. Please stay on the line. We suggest retreating to a safe distance if possible and allowing the combat team to handle this situation.”

And leave Shepard behind? Absolutely not. Wheeling the Rayfield out of the spot, Yorinobu catches sight of Shepard surrounded by three attackers. Their monowire glows a bright blue in the dimly lit parking lot as Shepard stares down their assailants. Shepard could handle this, but Yorinobu thinks that it is time for someone to even the odds. “No, send the team now.” He hangs up as the three start to advance towards Shepard. Pressing down on the gas, he speeds towards the three, sharply turning at the moment, drifting into the three attackers.

Shepard’s eyes widen as they jump out of the way, tucking into a neat roll as they land. One of the assailants quickly follows suit, but Yorinobu hits the other two. As the Rayfield slams into the attackers, it sends one flying into parked cars, leaving a dent on the hoods as they land. Car Alarms start blaring, headlights flashing. The other is sent straight into a concrete wall, leaving a dent as they slide down.

The Rayfield spins, slamming into another parked car. Yorinobu is dazed by the impact as the airbag ejects, the car groaning. A second later, the engine whines, followed by a death rattle. He catches his breath, his senses coming back to him. Yorinobu turns the key, hoping the car will respond. Instead, it sits silent, unresponsive as he tries a few more times.

CRACK! His head whips over in Shepard’s direction, fearful it might be them. Instead, an assailant screams, holding their knee as Shepard looms over them. Shepard swiftly ends the scream, their metal fist connecting with the attacker’s jaw in a mean left hook. They slump to the ground as Shepard looks up at him, fiercely glaring. “I thought I-.”

The other attacker, the one who landed on the cars, gets up, shaking their head. Mantis blades appear, glowing a sinister red. They launch themself at Shepard, who whips out their monowire, deftly dodging the attack. Yorinobu’s breath catches in his throat as he watches Shepard block the next attack, sparks flying as blade meets wire. Watching Shepard has always been mesmerizing, even more so in real combat. Shepard is a force of nature. Unyielding. Unrelenting. They’re almost a neon blue blur, dodging and attacking so quickly.

Heavy stomps draw his attention in another direction as Yorinobu realizes the third assailant is coming for him. Fuck! He needs to get out of the car. Now. To his left, the driver’s side door is pinned by another car, leaving it unable to open. Unclipping his seat belt, Yorinobu reaches for the passenger door, hoping it might open. He hears the click of the door, but nothing happens, leaving him utterly trapped. Grabbing Kongou from the glovebox, he aims the gun towards the attacker, flicking the safety off. Yorinobu will not allow himself to be easily killed. If anything, he will take his attacker with him. The attacker raises his arm, revealing a charging projectile.

Fortune favors him as Shepard looks over, realizing the situation. A ring of electric blue glows in their eyes, the telltale sign of a quickhack. (Yorinobu is glad that he convinced the team to allow Shepard to have a few quickhacks.) Their attacker screams, hands over her eyes. Shepard dashes away, towards him as his attacker draws closer, preparing to launch.

THWIP! The neon blue wire wraps itself around the attacker’s neck, flesh burning as electric volts course through him. Shepard pulls back on the wire, his attacker stumbling backward as the projectile fires. The missile soars over Yorinobu’s head, hitting the ceiling of the parking lot, some concrete tumbling to the ground. Shepard continues to pull his attacker back as the other one recovers. The other attacker, now recovered from the quickhack, launches themself at Shepard, blades raised.

Shepard dodges, whipping his attacker into Mantis Blades attacker, the two colliding. Both slam into each other, before eventually crashing into the ground. As Shepard readies themself for the next attack, loud sirens blare. “LAY YOUR WEAPONS DOWN NOW! ANY MOVEMENT WILL BE MET WITH FORCE!” Shepard retracts their monowire, raising their hand in surrender. Flicking the safety back on, Yorinobu sighs in relief, glad for them both to be alive.

—

It is nearly 3 AM by the time Shepard and Yorinobu return to the facility. During the questioning by Arasaka’s security team, Shepard has not looked at him once, answering most questions with a robotic and detached tone. Any that mention Yorinobu being attacked immediately sparks anger in Shepard’s voice. He also notices them hovering over him as the medical team inspects him, watching the team suspiciously. Following them down the hallway towards their room, he asks, “How are you feeling?”

Shepard stops suddenly, Yorinobu bumping into them. He steps back, opening his mouth to apologize as Shepard turns around to face him. They look furious as they cup his face tightly. Their hands are comforting, yet trembling slightly as they hold him. “What the hell were you thinking?” Shepard snarls.

He glares, anger rising within himself. “I hoped I could distract-.”

“What you did was reckless, dangerous, and stupid,” Shepard cuts him off, “You’re lucky that your little stunt didn’t leave you with a concussion or worse, and you’re even luckier that you didn’t get blown to smithereens. You should have listened to me; you should have left.”

Yorinobu cannot believe what he is hearing. “I am not stupid, Shepard,” He snaps, Shepard’s eyes widening slightly, “and, you cannot be suggesting what I think you are.”

They look slightly apologetic as they admit, “You aren’t stupid. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have called you that.” However, Yorinobu should know better than to think the lecture is over. “And yes, I am suggesting what you think I am. You should have left. Your priority should have been getting yourself to safety. You should have left the parking garage and headed back to the facility. Or the nearest Arasaka building. Or a police station. You should not have come back for me.”

“Why would you ask me to do that?”

“To protect you. To make sure that you survive.” Everything clicks into place. Shepard is not angry; they are terrified for him. He thinks back earlier to when Arasaka Security arrived. Shepard refused to let anyone look at them until he had been checked out, stubbornly insisting that they were fine. He also remembers how they hovered over him, watching carefully for any threat. Even now, he sees the sign of fear: their ocean-blue eyes look like a tumultuous ocean under stormy skies. They are trembling, holding his face like they are trying to reassure themself that Yorinobu is here and safe, that all of this is real. He knows what must be running through their mind. Shepard must have been terrified that they would have failed to protect him, to watch him die despite their best efforts. Another death in a long string of deaths that followed Shepard in their wake.

“Shepard,” He starts gently, “Were you scared that I was going to get hurt?”

They release his face, hands dropping down to their sides. Shepard nods, looking ashamed of their behavior.

He pulls them in for a hug, Shepard stiffening in surprise. A second later, they relax, wrapping their arms around his waist and burying their face in the crock of his neck. Stroking their dark red hair, he comforts them, “I am alive, Shepard, because of you. You saved my life tonight. You need not worry; you will not lose me.”

“I know,” They reply, voice slightly muffled, “I was just terrified that they might hurt you, and I would be powerless to stop it.”

“I trust you, Shepard. I know you will do everything in your power to protect me, and if tragedy happens, it will not be your fault.”

“Thanks," They sound unconvinced, but unwilling to argue with him, "Does that mean the next I tell you to run, you’ll listen?”

“On one condition,” Shepard pulls out of his arms, tilting their head in confusion at his request, “If you ask me to leave you behind, promise me you will come back alive.”

Their eyes widen, surprise flickering across their face. Eventually, Shepard softens, looking at him warmly with a soft red on their cheeks. “I promise I’ll come back alive.”

“Good.” Noticing Shepard seems exhausted as they try to stifle a yawn, Yorinobu holds out his arm for them, “Allow me to escort you back to your room.”

Shepard does not fight him, looping their arm through his as they rest their head on his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m beat. You must be too. If you want, you can stay the night.”

Smirking, he teases them, “Asking me to stay the night in your bed? I will need to find my way into danger more often.”

They roll their eyes, pretending not to be amused. “Yeah, now you’re getting the couch.” Shepard teases with a charming smirk.

“What if I am cold on the couch? What if I need someone to warm me up during the night?” He jokes back.

“You’ll just have to freeze,” They reply sarcastically.

“You would leave me to freeze? How cruel.”

Shepard laughs at his fake admonishment. “We could always get you an extra blanket.” “I would prefer you, and,” he adds with a knowing tone, “Arasaka couches are very uncomfortable. I will wake up sore. You would not do that to me, would you?”

They raise an eyebrow. “How would you know that?”

“I fell asleep on one.” Yorinobu had been jetlagged, falling asleep on one while waiting for a meeting. He was sore for a whole week afterward, unable to move without some part of his body aching.

“Yorinobu, are you sure it wasn’t because you’re an old man? The elderly need to be careful about the way they sleep.”

“Not that old, Shepard,” He retorts, “and very rich coming from someone into an older man.” “Touché,” they reply, “And I’m kidding. We’re going to share a bed. Can’t have you freezing to death or breaking a hip on my conscience.” Softly, they add, their tone more sentimental, “I’m really glad that you are okay.”

“I am glad that you are unharmed too, Shepard,” He presses a kiss to their head, truly glad for Shepard’s safety.

#kate writes #the rooney fic tag #commander rooney shepard #I won't let fear compromise who I am #OTP: It always comes right back to you #yorinobu arasaka x OC #v: cyberpunk 2077 #I'm not putting this in the main tags lol #kinda struggled with this one #but I finished #and I hope the ending comes across as teasing and goofy #and not cringy #but what I can say #you win some you lose some #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cp2077 fanfic

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elvenbeard · 4 months

Text

Before it Gets Better

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic

Summary: Kerry returns home with an unexpected visitor, but what he finds he did not expect. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 12/?, 6748 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V - notes at the end) >> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

V was ripped from a dreamless sleep, coughing and choking, sputtering a red cloud across his pillow. He scrambled to sit up, his throat tight and scratchy. Fingers clawing into the mattress he tried to take slow, deep breaths to suppress the coughing, but his chest hurt like he‘d been stabbed, his heart was racing. An icepick through his optics would‘ve been more comfortable than the headache leaving his vision blurry and riddled with glitches. Trying to regain his breath, orient himself in the room, all he could make out through the blinding pain were the dark red stains on the bedsheet and pillow, blood trickling down the back of this throat as he continued to gasp for air. Even though he was sitting he could barely keep himself upright, growing increasingly lightheaded.

“Kerry?” he croaked, but no response. Slowly he crawled across Kerry‘s empty side of the bed. Every inch of movement was a challenge. He squinted against the bright golden light of the setting sun reflected in the shiny surfaces of their furniture and walls, his call for Kerry still lingering unanswered, mixed with a hint of iron. Shakily V put his bare feet on the ground, pushed himself upright. Dizzy from pain he stumbled towards the gallery railing for support, fingers almost losing grip on the polished steel right then and there.

“Kerry?” he called again, hot blood streaming across his lips and chin, dripping on his chest and onto the floor.

“Fuck…”

Vik’s injectors… Not that they would help much anymore if he died of a hemorrhage within the next minute.

Just… breathe…

The plastic bag was still on the kitchen counter downstairs, and V cursed himself for not taking it with him earlier. He clung to the rail, peered down into the living room. Nibbles was sleeping on the sofa, but Kerry was nowhere to be seen.

Kerry, fuck… I need you…

Not by choice, but solely because he couldn’t physically move faster without passing out, he dragged himself forward along the cold metal railing, barely able to stand without the support. The whole house spun around V as he shakily walked down the stairs, moving automatically rather than consciously. Step by step, slipping and sliding further. He wasn‘t sure how long it took him, how he even made it all the way… but when he arrived at the foot of the stairs, in his condition, the bag with the injectors might as well have been on the moon. He shivered, heart hammering against his sternum. Once more he hoped that Kerry would appear around the corner any moment, to catch him, guide him the rest of the way… But it seemed that V would have to make it alone somehow if he wanted to make it.

Shakily he let go of the rail, his head pounding, edges of his vision darkening further. He didn’t remember how, but somehow, he crossed the distance, chest harshly slumping against the counter. Briefly he was jolted wide awake enough to slip a finger through the bag‘s loops, but then his legs gave in. He slid to the ground, harshly slamming his knee and elbow on the hardwood flooring. Burning pain shot through his broken wrist, he winced, but instead of groaning or screaming he only coughed and spat out more blood. Dark splotches blurred his vision further, his head grew heavy. Half-blinded he fumbled for the bag by his side, where it had clattered to the ground with him. Fingers locked around a fresh injector. His head fell back onto the hard, cool floor. With his breath rattling, V slammed the piece of plastic, metal, and needles against his bare chest, pressing hard and hoping that, if this did not save him anymore, it would at least ease the pain and just let him drift off into darkness peacefully.

His hand fell to the side, numbing warmth washing over him, rushing to his toes and fingertips, and he heard the faint rumble of the elevator being set in motion just as his vision faded.

“…you fuckin’ do this to me again! V, please, can you hear me?”

Kerry’s voice seemed to come from miles away, but the pain in his words was like a punch in the chest. Or it was the lingering sensation of the injector needle, or both.

“Don’t just fuckin’ stand there like a gonk, make yourself useful! Get me a blanket and, fuck, dunno… do somethin‘!”

V’s eyelids might as well have been glued shut, they were so heavy. He managed to catch only the tiniest glimpse of a figure rushing by behind Kerry. Kerry himself was kneeling right by his side, had one hand under V’s head for support, the other on his chest. V wanted to move or say something, but his body was paralyzed. The meds hadn’t fully kicked in yet, his head was pounding still. He couldn’t have been unconscious for long. That at least was a tiny silver lining.

“Here,” the other person Kerry was ordering around said as he returned, and V recognized his voice as Lee’s now. Kerry took the blanket they kept on the sofa from Lee, not letting go of V’s head though. He carefully, loosely put it over him, tucked it under him as best as he managed, and V noticed his fingers shaking as he brushed against his bare skin.

“Should I… call Trauma Team?” Lee asked quietly.

“This isn’t somethin’ they can help with…” Kerry said hoarsely.

“Oh, okay… Um, should I, dunno…”

“Can you just get the fuck off my back for a sec?” Kerry barked and V heard Lee shuffle away towards the other side of the kitchen. Then a soft touch to his left cheek, a thumb calloused by guitar strings for decades brushing across his cheekbone.

“V?” his voice was so quiet, so brittle compared to just seconds ago.

“Can ya hear me? Can ya… move, gimme a sign?”

It took all his willpower, the little remaining strength still in his body, but V managed only just to crack open his eyes again, and this time Kerry saw it.

“Oh thank fuck… okay, okay…” he sighed with immense relieve, voice shaky. He sunk down until his forehead came to a rest on V’s chest, one hand still at his face, the other searching V’s right hand. Like this he stayed, breathing deeply, holding on to V as if he was the only thing that would keep him afloat, safe from drowning. V wasn’t sure for how long, maybe five, ten minutes, maybe longer, or maybe not all that long. Slowly, surely his senses grew clearer again, and his headache became bearable.

“’n I’m the workaholic, huh?” was the first best thing he managed to utter hoarsely in an attempt to ease the tension. He opened his eyes and instantly met Kerry’s, in the same moment looking up at him. Kerry sat up slowly, his brow was deeply furrowed. Once more he stroked V’s cheek.

“Can you get up? Wanna get you to the sofa, off the floor…” he said, quietly and clearly unsure what to make of V’s remark. V was too weak to explain and also didn‘t want to risk another argument.

“Might need some help…”

“Okay, hold on to me.”

V tried to reach up to put his arm around Kerry’s shoulders, but even that he didn’t manage on his own. How pathetic of an image he must’ve presented. But there was no hint of pity in Kerry’s face, only worry. V grabbed onto Kerry’s jacket as tightly as he could, and despite his muddled state, under his palm he noticed a thin, rough layer of dust clinging to the leather.

Kerry pulled him to his feet, slowly, their movements matching each other as if they’d choreographed this… and in a way they had. V had long lost count of how many times Kerry had pulled him back to his feet again in the last few months. Literally as well as metaphorically.

Yes, Kerry was scared to lose him, he’d made that pretty clear… and at the same time V knew he wouldn’t be here anymore without Kerry, without someone waiting for him at home, putting so much more trust and support into him than he deserved. V was just as scared of going under, losing his rock, his bastion of calm in this storm… but more so because he was slowly but surely eroding him away with a constant stream of worry, stress, and pain.

“Alright, I gotcha,” Kerry whispered with some strain, then carefully but as quickly and directly as he managed guided him over to the couch. V’s steps were still unsure, and he groaned as he sunk onto the seat, clinging to the blanket still loosely wrapped around his shoulders. His muscles were aching and only now he realized that he was shaking, freezing actually.

“I’ll get ya some clothes, just sit tight here for a sec, alright?” Kerry said, pressing a quick kiss on V’s forehead, another stab to his heart, “Need anything else? Painkillers, water?”

“Water sounds good,” V said, words rough and feeling strange in his own mouth.

“Okay,” Kerry briefly squeezed his healthy hand, then straightened up and walked back towards the kitchen.

“Drinking glasses behind you,” he instructed Lee as he passed him by, quickly and vaguely pointing at the cupboards, “Water’s in the fridge.”

Then he jogged upstairs. V slowly, carefully turned his head, trying to process still what had just happened. Then his gaze briefly met with Lee’s, who seemed just as confused. He was standing in the kitchen, staring like a deer in headlights, then quickly turned on the spot and rummaged through their cupboards. A slight thud right next to V drew his attention away from the kitchen for a moment and to Nibbles, who had just jumped on the sofa. She brushed against him, purring loudly, and looked up at him with her huge green eyes.

“Hey girl… what’s goin’ on, huh?” V said weakly, but he was shaking too hard now to reach out and pet her. Even his teeth were chattering… He hadn’t been this miserable earlier at Vik’s. But it was a fierce drug cocktail he’d injected, likely not without its occasional side effects.

The fridge door opened then closed again, and V turned back to Lee as Nibbles got comfortable on the sofa beside him. Even from a distance and even half-blinded by pain still he could see that Lee was shaking too, as he filled the glass almost to the brim. Only reluctantly he walked over to V, keeping the coffee table between them. He sat the glass down and took half a step back again.

“Thanks,” V said quietly, but kept the blanket wrapped around him. Lee avoided to look at him. V could taste the blood on his lips still, feel it pull at the skin around his nose where it dried. He probably looked like absolute shit.

“C’mon, in my state I’m not gonna be able to do anything to you. Even if I wanted to,” he then said, trying to get Lee to relax… not entirely without ulterior motives, because their penthouse was the last place Kerry would bring his manager to without a very good reason. Why was he here? Where had Kerry let‘s-just-spend-the-rest-of-the-day-on-the-sofa Eurodyne disappeared to while V had been asleep?

Lee cleared his throat and shifted slightly where he stood.

“Sit down, you’re makin’ me nervous,” V ordered, and after a moment of hesitation, weighing the pros and cons in his head for sure, Lee sat down on an armchair nearby. They were at eye level now, but Lee still avoided his gaze. But that gave V the chance to get a closer look at him in return. His hair was somewhat disheveled, and what V had mistaken as an unusual hint of stubble at first was dirt along Lee’s jawline and neck. His white leather boots were tinted orange, as were the seams of his sleeves and his knees and shins. Overall, he appeared shaken, more so than usually… And all that, plus the dust on Kerry’s jacket, painted wild scenarios in V’s head that he couldn’t quite place into a bigger context yet.

“Can’t you, like…” Lee mumbled, “With your hacking and such… basically kill people just with your thoughts?”

He then looked up at V wide-eyed, like prey that knew it was going to die but also had no means to get out of its dire situation anymore.

“It’s not quite as simple, but technically… yeah.”

Lee immediately looked back down to his lap, where he had his fingers tightly intertwined, resting on his thighs.

“Do you need to, like…” he then continued to stammer, barely audible, “Look the person in the eyes, or just, roughly know where they are in a room? How does it work?”

V sighed.

“Lee, if I wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t be sitting here anymore.”

Lee laughed nervously, gulped, and briefly looked up at V, then away again.

Right as V began to wonder where Kerry had disappeared to, he heard him coming back down the stairs. He carried some clothes flung over his left arm, in his right hand he held a clean wet towel. He walked straight past Lee and paid him no mind whatsoever, instead returned his full attention to V. Putting the clothes down on the sofa first, then giving Nibbles a short pat, he eventually knelt down in front of V.

“I thought, maybe clean up a bit first before gettin’ dressed…” he said and held out the towel in an offering manner. V’s eyes had been following Kerry’s movements, only now they found his face again – and he froze when he noticed his eyeliner slightly smudged, his eyelids reddish and a little swollen. Just slightly, and right now he was gently smiling, as if nothing was wrong. But V could tell that he was hurting so much and tried not to let it show, and that in return hurt V to no end. He wondered if it was because Lee was here, or if Kerry felt like he had to be strong for both of them right now.

“Kerry…” V mouthed, his throat too tight to produce sounds. Kerry flashed a short smile, shook his head only just enough so V would see it. Then he carefully dabbed the warm, soaked towel against V’s face to get rid of the blood.

“Gotta get you checked out…” he said overplaying his sadness, the white towel progressively turning redder as he slowly worked away, “By Vik, or better, at the MedCenter. That wasn’t just a lil’ nosebleed.”

V held still, focusing on the warmth of the towel, the movement of Kerry’s eyes, his other hand gently stabilizing V’s head, fingertips caressing his face. And the slight resignation in his voice…

“MedCenter sounds like a plan,” V then said, automatically again almost, causing Kerry to freeze for a moment, stare at him with mild surprise. But then he smiled, more genuinely than before, and continued to gently dab the dried blood.

“Okay, good,” he said, “Want me to give Dr. Fuentes a call before, or…”

“I’ll do it myself,” V promised. Kerry finished by wiping the towel across V’s mouth, then his chest, then leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Not quite good as new, but it’ll do,” he announced, and V laughed weakly. The tension in the air was still tangible though, as Kerry followed V’s gaze back to Lee, who still sat on the chair, hands folded and staring at his feet.

“What’s he doin’ here by the way?” V then asked, no longer able to ignore the elephant in the room, “And where were you?”

Now Kerry avoided to look at him, bit his bottom lip and sighed, but his hands resting on V’s lap now also briefly clenched, curled into fists. He shrugged, and gestured at Lee, who stared at them both with wide eyes first and then over to the elevator. How subtle.

“Dunno, Lee, you wanna explain what happened?” Kerry asked, barely able to mask his annoyance and anger again now.

“Uh…” was all that Lee managed to utter, still petrified.

Kerry cocked his head, and when Lee didn’t manage to rediscover his voice, he turned to look back at V.

“Turns out, this little motherfucker is the one who swapped your pills.”

Lee audibly gasped and jumped up from his chair, hands raised in defense, before V had even fully registered the meaning of Kerry’s words.

“He what…” he said, his pulse gaining speed, then he turned to Lee, “You did what?”

“They… threatened me!” Lee stammered, and if V hadn’t been shaking too much to hold a glass of water, he would’ve long grabbed and punched the shit out of him. But then a shiver ran down his spine, and he turned back to Kerry.

“He tells you he works for Blue-Eyes and your first impulse is to bring him here? Into our home?”

Now Kerry flinched, visibly guilty.

“Hey, listen,” he defended himself, “My first impulse was to leave him to die in the desert – and I’m still tempted to take him back there, if I’m honest with ya.”

“No, please!” Lee whined and both Kerry and V instantly turned to look at him and in unison told him to “Shut up!”

There was a brief pause, their eyes met for a moment, V couldn’t help but grin and noticed Kerry’s cheeky smile as well. But then he turned serious again.

“Fuck it’s… a fuckin’ mess,” Kerry sighed. He got up to sit on the sofa next to V, Nibbles between them, to explain the whole story.

V listened intensely, from Kerry’s discovery on the security footage to paying Lee a visit (admitting his plan wasn’t as well thought-out as he’d liked it to be), down to their conversation in the desert and the return to Charter Hill.

“Dunno I… had a real bad gut feelin’ about just leaving him there,” Kerry said, “He downright admitted to everything, I think if Mr. Bastard figures out he told us…”

V nodded pensively, keeping a close eye on Lee who had sunken back into his chair again, appearing small and lost like a guilty child called to the principal’s office for the first time.

“How did these people get in contact with you for the first time?” he then asked, “And when?”

“It was the same night after I’d signed the contract with Kerry,” Lee said quietly, but without hesitation, and V nodded. That had also been the same day V had been contacted by Mr. B about the Crystal Palace heist.

“Got an unknown number call me, voice distorted, and they had… all this information on me, no idea how they got their hands on it,” Lee explained, “They told me I should get something from an apartment in a Megabuilding, everything would be ready to go as soon as I get there. Or they’d ruin me, if I didn’t do it.”

He looked up at V with watery eyes.

“I didn’t even know it was your place, didn’t even know who you were at the time. Only that you wouldn’t be home, and that I had to find a specific pill bottle. Take one pill, deliver it to a drop point with a specific code. And I thought that would be it.”

“But they came back, I take it, with more demands?” V asked, and Lee just nodded.

“I got to know you a few days later…” he stammered, “And they said, they wouldn’t only ruin my career, they’d put all the blame on me somehow and you’d kill me the second you figure it out.”

V leaned against the sofa’s backrest and closed his eyes for a couple of moments, still tightly wrapped in his blanket. He didn’t know Lee that well yet, but he’d dealt with enough professional liars in his life, and Lee simply didn’t strike him as one. Also, he had nothing to gain from making this up, or at least he also risked his life big time. For what, money? He earned ridiculously well as Kerry’s manager, his life already was more prestigious than those of 90% of NC’s citizens. Also, the details matched up, his fear was real. No matter how much he searched, V couldn’t think of a reason to distrust him, not believe him.

V could feel both Kerry’s and Lee’s eyes linger on him, waiting for him to deliver an answer, a solution that would magically make all their problems disappear. Admittedly, knowing with relative certainty now that neither Vik nor his trusted chemist, nor any other third party out of their reach was responsible for swapping V’s pills, that it had “only” been Lee, was a small relief. One thing to cross off of the to do list that was longer than the lifetime V had left.

But what good was it really to know the truth when in the grand scheme of things V was still dying, Lee had a bright glowing target on his back the moment he walked out the front door, and Mr. B’s true intentions were still unclear… and V and Kerry were continuously delivering him reasons now to silence them as well. He had put a certain amount of trust in them by inviting them to the lab, showing them his tech, and they’d declined to work with him – or rather, V had declined, Kerry had at least tried to convince him to reconsider.

Either way though, they were in the process of figuring out more and more of Mr. B’s secrets, and V was certain this man had his means and ways to stay in the loop on what they were up to. Whatever had been in these pills, V wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. B would notice if he no longer took them, at the very latest when Lee – or someone new – was tasked to swap them out the next time.

The hamster is running in his wheel again. Has he ever left it, I wonder…

“I need fresh air,” V just said and shakily good up from the sofa, Kerry jumping to his side instantly.

“Woah, careful,” he said, hand on V’s back.

“I’m good, really,” he replied, and quickly squeezed Kerry’s hand. He slid the blanket off his shoulders, let it drop to the floor, then grabbed the comfortable jogging pants and t-shirt Kerry had brought him earlier. From the corner of his eye he noticed Lee staring, then getting flustered and averting his gaze. V could almost feel the daggers shooting from Kerry’s eyes behind him, even if he said nothing, and V grinned.

He pulled the t-shirt over his head, then turned around. Since he had to pass Lee on the way to the balcony anyway, he made a point of walking up to him slowly, then he stopped right by his side. Lee froze, then sheepishly looked up at him. V waited, looked him in the eyes… and then grabbed his jaw as hard as he could, leaving Lee wincing and gasping.

“Don’t ever try to fuck with me or Kerry again, or I swear, you’re gonna wish he’d shot you in the desert,” V threatened, his voice calm but cutting as sharp and deep as the finest katana rolling from an Arasaka assembly line.

Lee stared at him wide-eyed, and when V let go of his face again, he just nodded firmly. Then V slowly continued his walk to the glass sliding door connecting the kitchen to the outside world.

With each step onto the balcony he took another deep breath as Night City was slowly engulfed by darkness… But simultaneously somehow it came back to life in a rainbow of a million neon lights. V stopped at the railing, still somewhat lightheaded, and just listened to the pulsating heart of the city for a few moments, taking in the smells and sights, as if he’d awoken from a too long sleep as well.

He rested his arms on the metal bar and let his head fall forward. He could still sense the strain of his headache, his arm and knee hurt from his fall.

Next one might kill ya for good, just sayin’. You gotta get your ass up and do somethin’.

The echo of Johnny’s voice lingered in his ears again, and V wasn’t surprised. It was almost as bad again as it had been that day Johnny took control and dragged him to the Pistis Sofia. V had been so angry, so scared, and even in hindsight still felt betrayed, no matter that Johnny had acted in his – their – own best interest. Sometimes he wondered, even though he was gone, somewhere behind the Blackwall now, if a piece of his mind didn’t maybe remain in V’s brain after all somehow. He still had many of Johnny’s more vivid memories, because they were V’s now as much as they’d been his first. Why not part of his personality as well, seeped from the Relic into the fibre of his being where not even Soulkiller could reach it? The thought terrified him, that the reason he was dying wasn’t even just his body not accepting his own personality anymore, but rather part of Johnny still being here and actively – even if unwillingly – fighting back against V too.

V, you gotta do somethin’. Promise, this isn’t one of those things that’s gotta get worse before it gets better.

“Fuck…”

V opened his eyes. He was sick to his stomach and needed another couple of minutes of just breathing in the cool evening air slowly and steadily for the nausea to fade to bearable levels. Only then he pulled up Dr. Fuentes number on the holo. In the corner of the interface the time read 6.56 pm, so not awfully late for a spontaneous call, he hoped. He took another deep breath, then it started ringing.

“Fuentes?” was the firm response on the other end of the line just a few seconds later. But V hesitated.

“Hello?” Fuentes asked after a short pause.

Only the memory of Kerry’s teary eyes managed to remove the knot from his tongue.

“This is V,” he said briefly, not really sure how to even start, “I… wanted to apologize for turning your offer down so harshly the other day.”

Now Fuentes remained silent. Her holocall avatar was a plain logo of the Little China MedCenter with her name beneath it, “Dr. Isabella Fuentes” in sleek letters.

“No need to apologize,” she then said, voice calm and professional, “I take it, you’ve reconsidered?”

“Why else would I be calling, right?” V grinned, trying to play it cool after his initial hesitation.

“I’ve thought things through,” he continued, “Examined a few other options and… I think it’s best to at least explore all possible paths before making a final decision.”

She didn’t need to know about Blue-Eyes, at least not yet and not over the holo. Despite the secure connection, having Lee sitting just a few yards away behind him, made it hard for V to speak openly. Also, he still waited on Nyx’ background check of the doctor. Apart from that, she also didn’t need to know that he was growing desperate. Despair quickly attracted all sorts of favours and demands that weren’t part of original bargains in this city.

“A wise decision,” she said then, and once again, a shiver ran down V’s spine as if he’d just walked right into a trap, “Let me check my calendar… You’re scheduled for the cast removal on Friday. Would that be alright, or do you want to come in sooner?”

V paused once more. Viktor’s injectors would last him until Thursday at most, at this rate probably not as long. Hopefully AJ would have the next pill batch ready before that happened. Right now, he might still have remnants of Mr. B’s fake pills in his body that Fuentes could have a look at, too.

“Would tomorrow work?” he asked, and Fuentes hummed.

“Let me see… I can definitely move some appointments around. Why don’t you come in at… 10 am? And I’ll see what I can do for you, get things moving at the very least.”

“Alright,” V nodded, and his stomach slightly turned again.

“Alright,” Fuentes repeated, “Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

“Good night.”

He hung up and returned to trying to breathe deeply, rubbing his forehead with his healthy hand. He stood in silence, in the fresh breeze for a little while longer, until eventually the door slid open behind him. Familiar hands found his sore shoulders, rubbed his back.

“Ain’t ya gettin’ cold?” Kerry asked quietly, pressing his lips against V’s left shoulder blade as his arms wrapped around his waist. V shook his head.

“Got an appointment with Fuentes tomorrow mornin’,” he announced, “Can you drive me? Otherwise, I’ll just call Del.”

“No, of course I’ll drive ya. Hell, I’ll come with ya,” Kerry said.

“It’s fine, don’t have to,” V shook his head, “Been driving me around all day today, and yesterday… I bet the studio’s been breathin’ down your neck the whole time.”

Kerry’s silence and slightly tightening grip was answer enough.

“But you hate doctors and hospitals,” he then mumbled against his shoulder, and V chuckled, putting his hand on Kerry’s.

“But,” he countered, “I’m also a big boy already. I’ll manage on my own this once.”

Kerry squeezed him once more, then slowly let go to lean on the rail beside him. He pulled out his cigarettes and lit one up, his own way of “catching some fresh air” V mused. They stood in silence side by side for a few moments, admiring the glowing cityscape.

“Y’know,” V then said, “I’m really damn proud of you.”

Kerry laughed briefly and flicked some cigarette ash into the air.

“Yeah?”

V nodded.

“How you figured out that it was Lee… couldn’t have done that better myself.”

“Got yourself a man of many talents,” Kerry smiled, taking another drag.

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but really, Kerry, you give yourself too little credit,” V insisted, “Couldn’t do any of this without ya.”

V turned to look at Kerry, but Kerry didn’t reciprocate his gaze, instead stared off into the distance. He seemed to want to respond in a cheeky way, something like “yeah, of course you couldn’t”, but he wasn’t able to bring himself to it. In the end, he just smiled, flicked away what was left of his cigarette, then looked up at V finally with his big blue eyes.

“I know you’re carrying big enough burdens and responsibilities without me already,” V said quietly.

“V, you’re not – …”

“I’m not a burden, I know,” V interrupted him, “I’m just sayin’… Don’t forget to take care of yourself, too. Neither of us has to carry all the weight all the time. We can take turns, share the load.”

Once again, Kerry seemed to want to say something, although this time V had a harder time guessing what it may have been. Instead, after a couple of moments, he changed the topic.

“I was hopin’… you’d have an idea about what to do with Lee.”

V looked over his shoulder. Inside, Lee was still sitting on the armchair in the living room, head hung low.

“You really think he’s in immediate danger?” V asked, but Kerry almost instantly shrugged.

“It’s less knowin’, more a feelin’,” he said, “Based on livin’ in this city for longer than most people, mostly.”

V nodded. Kerry’s life experience wasn’t to be underestimated. Even if he’d never been a true part of Night City’s underworld, he’s lived alongside it long enough, dealt with enough shady crooks, crazy fans, and dubious corpos to have a deeper insight into human nature and this city’s inner workings than most.

“Also… dunno, it could be nothin’. Just my own paranoia,” he then added, and V perked up, “There was this black van just outside the studio, right when we left to come back ‘ere.”

“A black van?”

“Yeah… pretty non-descript, just… black.”

“Did you see the model, or brand?” V’s thoughts were racing, drifting back to the high-speed chase of the black Ragnar on behalf of the Peralezes. His first contact with Mr. Blue-Eyes’ organization, even when he wasn’t aware of it yet at the time. A black, non-descript car, not quite a van, but…

“I think it was a Columbus,” Kerry said, and V frowned, “Like… 80% sure. Not brand-new, but also not one of the older models that still pop up now and then. Fuck, Nance once organized one of those for a tour, lemme tell ya, was tired of the thing the moment I got in. Flimsy doors, too narrow really to get anything in and out that was bigger than a person… And fuck, it stank.”

V hummed.

“Odd for that corner of Charter Hill, too,” he said after a couple of moments, “In broad daylight and all.”

Kerry nodded. V knew Charter Hill well, he knew the street the studio was on, and really, black, non-descript vans stood out. It wasn’t exactly an area with a lot of big families that might get use of a car like that, neither an overly commercial area with a lot of delivery vehicles… And those were branded or parked in the back of the fancy stores they delivered to. Maybe it was a vehicle of Mr. B, or maybe that of a bad private investigator who hadn’t done their research on the area and just brought the usual inconspicuous car… Or a dozen other possibilities. If it was enough to worry Kerry though, he would treat it seriously.

“Alright,” V said and pulled up his holo again, “Better safe than sorry. Imma call Emmerick, arrange some security for Lee – and for you, on that matter – ‘til we know more.”

“Ah, c’mon, V, I’m safe here, and at the studio… and everywhere else I’ll be with ya anyway.”

“I’ll sleep better if I know there’s a couple more eyes on you than just mine,” V said and called up Emmerick to set everything in motion – and to remove Lee from their house as quickly as possible.

Less than half an hour later the doorbell rang, and Lee was picked up by two trustful mercs who specialized in personal protection. He was visibly reluctant about leaving with them, but in the end, V would’ve left him no choice but either go on his own or at least accompanied by well-paid professionals.

“You’re gonna pay us back for this,” Kerry said as Lee already had one foot in the elevator, “Not just the huscle, everythin’. Big time.”

His jaw slightly red still from where V had grabbed him, Lee just nodded in resignation before the elevator doors closed between them.

A huge weight was lifted off of V’s chest, and he leaned against Kerry, who put his arms back around him.

“What a day, huh?” he said quietly, gently rubbing V’s back in small circles.

“Hopin’ tomorrow will be better,” V nodded with his eyes closed, forehead resting on Kerry’s shoulder.

They remind like that for a couple of moments, then V stood up straight again to look at Kerry. Meanwhile it was almost eight.

“Whaddaya say… pizza, popcorn, and movie night?” he suggested. Kerry squinted slightly, in disbelief almost. But then he also began to smile and nodded. V reached up to brush his fingers through Kerry’s ridiculously soft hair, then scratched his beard, and Kerry closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Like a cat, V thought, and chuckled. Simultaneously, he placed an order at their favourite pizza place over his holo.

“You’re all dusty still,” he mused quietly, “And I bet I look like a mess, too.”

Kerry didn’t even open his eyes.

“You’re particularly handsome when you look like a mess...”

V snorted and kissed him softly.

“I’m still kinda cold though, too. I’ll hop in the shower real quick. Wanna join while we wait for the food?”

Kerry grinned.

“Be there in a sec, I’ll just finally put my jacket and… stuff away.”

V had noticed Kerry still had his gun in his pocket the whole time Lee was there. He had been wondering if he’d kept it on him on purpose.

“Okay, but don’t make me wait too long,” V teased, giving Kerry’s jaw a quick squeeze the same way he’d done it to Lee, and Kerry bit his lip.

“I would never,” he purred, then they slowly moved away from each other. V began to head upstairs, clinging to the railing, the exertion really making him feel his earlier attacks now. Halfway up the stairs he actually had to pause for a moment to catch his breath. Then his gaze fell to his feet, and between them on the steps the dark red dried bloodstains he’d left here earlier still marked the floor.

He cursed between his teeth, froze for a moment, as his eyes wandered further up the steps where the blood trail continued. Then he looked down behind him, could see the stains still where he’d laid on the floor in the kitchen.

Slowly he made it the rest of the way up the stairs, behind him on the ground floor the door to the armory opened and closed a second time. Kerry caught up to him at the top of the stairs where once more V couldn’t continue moving. He could feel Kerry follow his gaze to their bed, where the pillows and blanket looked like a dark red can of spray paint had exploded. Even the wall had tiny stains.

V turned to look at Kerry, whose cheeky grin had disappeared, replaced by distress he didn’t manage or want to hide this time. Neither of them said a word until eventually Kerry just dragged V to the bathroom with him.

“I’ll call someone to clean up tomorrow when we’re outta the house,” he said, “Can sleep downstairs tonight.”

V just nodded and wordlessly followed Kerry. Any spark of romance was gone, not even the hot shower water raining down on them helped. But actually, just holding each other and existing in this peaceful moment together was what they both needed more now than a quickie, V realized. He clung to Kerry, and Kerry clung to him, and neither said a word. They just understood that all that mattered right now was that they still had each other after a day full of arguments and unpleasant surprises, with only little glimmers of hope between.

“I thought you were dead,” Kerry eventually broke the silence, voice barely louder than the rushing water, finally addressing what both of them had had on their mind the whole evening. He had his face buried against the side of V’s neck, and V stroked the back of Kerry’s head, scratching and caressing the short grey hair there. He couldn’t say anything in response, could barely imagine the horror Kerry must’ve felt, walking into the kitchen and seeing his legs and a trail of blood behind the counter first thing. V had stumbled into murder and violent crime scenes that had been less bloody than the state of their bedroom right now.

“I’m here though,” he then said quietly, “I’m so… fucking sorry, to put you through this, but I’m here. And I hope I can make up for it somehow, in... in the future.”

He almost said, “in the end”, but no. He didn’t want to think of things ending anymore, but of continuing, of something, some kind of future to look forward to.

“V…” was all that Kerry managed before he almost collapsed against him and just began to cry against V’s shoulder. It started as just one, two big sobs, but then he couldn’t hold back anymore. V clung to Kerry, soothing, whispering into his ear that they’d find a way, somehow.

“And if I have to burn the whole damn city down, I’ll fight like hell to get better. Be with you. Never leave you again.”

Like this they stood, holding on, until all the tears they were still capable of crying had been washed away and down the drain with the dirt and blood and dust.

*****************

>> Next Chapter

*****************

Notes:

The mood of this chapter was: Lie down. Try not to cry. Cry a lot.

I always struggle a bit with transitional chapters, but this here finally ties off the "who switched the pills" plotline and V moves away from focusing on Mr. B as much (at least for now). I've been struggling a bit with putting it all together, but I'm ready now to move forward XD Next time Dr. Fuentes will make a return and I'm scared and excited to introduce you to her plans for V 👀 To recap the timeline a little bit, the day before all this happened, V was introduced to Mr. B's "cure" of his problems, and just a couple of days earlier he returned from the Crystal Palace and had his car accident. Busy af weekend really xD

Also yes, this is not the last you'll have heard of Lee, promise! He will have to pay for what he did, even if he was somewhat forced 👀

Requested Fic Update Tags:

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If you’d also like to get tagged when I post a new chapter for this fic, leave a reply on [this post] or send me a DM!

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#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cp2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk fanfic #cp2077 fanfiction #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x v #cyberpunk kerry #cyberpunk v #vincent ezaki #otp: to bad decisions #my writing #love is stored in the olive jar

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thewitchunderyourbed · 1 year

Text

When the Sun goes down

Sorry, I'm bad at summaries, guess you have to read the whole thing

Chapter 1

Pairing: JoyToy!Johnny x V

Warning: language, sexual themes, brief mention of violence and abuse.

V strolled down Jig-Jig Street, as her friend Goro once said "what kind of name is that?"

Well, what did he expect from a hub full of sex shops and prostitutes?

Taking the turn for Wakako's Pachinko Parlor the neon light reflected on her dark sunglasses, and the sounds of moans and implant commercials filled her ears, annoying her even more.

She was beyond pissed.

She scoffed at the sound of slot machines and almost ripped the damn curtains draped over the door to Wakako's office.

"V, my dear. I heard the gig was a success" the old woman greeted her, always composed.

V, as an answer tossed a bloodied shard on the fixer's desk, the little piece of tech rattled on the wooden surface, leaving a trail of brain pieces and hair.

"Why didn't you tell me my "contact" was a cyberpsycho? Had to make his head into pudding and then retrieve that fucking shard" she hissed.

"But you succeed, didn't you? Eddies are already on your account" Wakako said, with a gesture of her hand her pupils lit up, a sign that she was transferring the money.

"Thank you" V muttered "I'm going home if you need me you know how to find me," she said heading for the exit.

"Wait, V." the woman called, making the merc turn around.

"You're getting noticed a lot, and in a good way. Your exploits are known all over Japan Town and your skills are already legendary. The prostitutes in this neighborhood dream only of you." she smirked.

"Oh, lucky me" the girl replied, unamused.

"What I'm trying to say, my child, is that life is short for not having some fun" the fixer said adjusting her round glasses on her nose.

V snorted "Is what you said to your five husbands?" and with that, she left the Parlor.

It's not that V disliked hookers, she's friends with more than one, but paying for sex it's something she doesn't wish to do.

She would be a hypocrite if she said she had not thought about it on more than one occasion when her stressed brain craved something that wasn't just pain and medications.

A cute JoyToy would make her forget about her pitiful life made of death and money for an hour or two but then she would return to her path of loneliness, with less money and her systems to check up by Vik.

The truth was that she did not care about sex that much anyway.

The oddly shaped strap-ons on display in the shop's windows were almost hilarious to her, for not talking about the Mr. Stud commercials, she knew a guy who had a very HARD time with one of those.

Wakako was right, though.

The hookers were launching themselves at her as she passed, hoping to be noticed and make some money or to simply spend time with her, to have something to gossip around.

"I know what the famous merc is into under the sheets" she could already hear them.

Almost out of the hub, returning to her loved bike her attention was caught by shouts, two people were arguing.

"Oh, for fucks sake" she huffed, tempted to just leave them be and return home for collapsing on her bed.

"What did you just call me, you useless whore?" a Japanese man screamed in his mother tongue.

"A wretched piece of shit, keep your fucking hands to yourself if you can't pay," another man with dark aviators said.

The first grabbed the latter by his net shirt, making his glasses fall onto the dirty ground.

"Hey!" V yelled towards the two, approaching with quick steps.

"Is he troubling you?" the merc asked the male JoyToy.

"And what the hell do you want? Take his place, maybe?" the molester, eyed her from head to toe.

"If you don't immediately leave within three seconds, I swear I'll rip off that poor excuse of genitals you have between your legs, and make you forcefully swallow them, do you copy?" she asked, throwing the man against the nearest wall and unsheathing her mantis blades.

The poor fucker almost peed his pants as he ran away, tripping on his own feet by looking behind himself, afraid of being followed by V.

"Could have made it by myself" the JoyToy scoffed.

"You're welcome" arching one eyebrow at him, she lowered down to pick up his glasses handing them to their owner.

"Thank you" he finally said, extending a shiny cybernetic arm "I'm Johnny"

It takes some time for V to realize she was meant to introduce herself too, lost in her thought of a soft and warm bed as the cold rain started to fall on Night City.

"I'm V... Sorry to ask you but..." she gestured where a golden feather-like cyberware adorned his neck "-you're not a JoyToy".

Johnny fished out a cigarette from the back pocket of his leather pants and V took out a lighter from one of hers.

Stepping closer to him and using her free hand to prevent the small flame to be blown out by the rising wind, she lit the cigarette held between his lips.

He let out a nervous exhale of smoke before speaking "I was a doll, at Clouds. That fucking place is a soulsucker, I've been beaten one too many times, waking up in a bloodbath without even remembering by whom or why. I quit that place forever"

She could still see a trace of fear in his dark eyes even if the secure expression on his beautiful features tried to mask it.

"You're not having much luck even here" she pointed out.

"At least I'm not a sex zombie anymore, why the hell do you care anyway?" he inquired suspiciously.

"I'm in a good work relationship with Okada, this district fixer. Her problems and the ones of her clients often became mine to resolve. I like to keep myself well informed" V said, raising the hood of her jacket on her head.

"See you around, Johnny" she smiled weakly before stepping under the pounding rain.

"Wait! Don't you... I mean, as a thank you?" he raised his voice to be heard.

"As a thank you, you can stay safe" she ignited the engine of her Arch to life before speeding away.

"See you around, V" he sighed, shivering in the cold night.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Feel free to comment and give constructive critiques. English is not my mother tongue so if you have found some errors, please let me know.

Ideas and suggestions are welcomed too 💕

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captainderyn · 3 months

Note

I m sorry this will be a shitty idea :,] [ if reqs aren't accepted in here then just ignore me ]

JUDY/FEMALE V ft Mr silverhand cause how does choas not happened without the man who blew up arasaka

V stealing a kiss from ms alvarez while she's smoking ? Win for Johnny and a win for v ft Johnny encouraging v about it lmao > glitter anon

Hi nonny!! Thank you so much for the suggestion :D I wrote a little something something for this, hopefully this fits along the idea you were thinking!

V didn’t smoke. Never had, never wanted to. Enough second hand smoke clogged the sidewalks of Night City that she didn’t need to ever put a cigarette to her lips to know what it tasted like.

There was something enchanting about the play of the lights around the thick haze swirling around Judy as they sat thigh-to-thigh on the rooftop edge of the building. Charter Street hummed with life below them, cars zipping back and forth in a synchronized drone of tired thumping through potholes and honking horns. Further out, the sprawl of Night City glimmered with neon, the echo of advertisements in the heart of the city reaching even here.

Judy inhaled again, puffing out another cloud of smoke and turning her face up to the sky. According to her she hadn’t smoked until Evelyn…

Well, until all of this happened.

“If you don’t stop giving her lovesick puppy eyes I’m going to be sick.”

Johnny’s voice grated through her mind, the engram himself shimmering into existence on the other side of Judy. He mimed an exaggerated, Shakespearean level look of longing, kicking his feet back and forth off the edge of the building.

Tsch, V glared at him trying to beam the image of a middle finger in the link between their minds. From the shit eating, arrogant grin he flashed at her it worked.

Then Judy sighed, lifting the cig to her lips again. V watched Johnny as his eyes followed the entire movement, genuine longing replacing his performance and matching the sudden craving that flashed through her.

She had to bite her tongue from speaking aloud and to keep her mocking words inside her head, ‘Hey asshat, stop eye-fucking the cig or I’m going to be sick.’

Johnny, unlike V, could fip her off without being seen. And he did with both hands.

“Hey V, where’d you go?” Judy’s bemused voice broke through her glaring contest with Johnny and she blinked to find Judy staring at her with a soft quirk of her lips.

“Oh ya know, just thinking.” V’s eyes darted over to Johnny, who made a gagging gesture before glitching out of her vision. The neon lights of the city caught the last glimmer of his silver hand, giving her yet another middle finger with gusto.

‘Dick.’ She thought.

‘Bitch.’ He responded, unable to let her ever have the last word like an immature, bratty teenager.

And perhaps she was equally immature given that she would’ve continued down this ongoing, middle-school level bicker-fest if she didn’t have the most beautiful women in Night City smiling at her like she was the sun on a rainy day.

Man if there was one thing to come out of the shitshow of a job that Evelyn had set up for her and Jackie, it was meeting Judy. Even if tragedy was the glue that drew them together.

Judy bobbed her hand, ashes from the waning cigarette floating down to land on her overalls, arching a brow, “Earth to V, you a little lost up there?”

V grinned, sheepish and cheeks tinging with heat, “Sorry, lot going on up there." Understatement of the 2070s. "I’m here I promise.”

“There is absolutely not.” Johnny retorted in the recesses in her mind. The edges of her vision flickered like he was going to manifest again. “Nothing but goo and stupid synth-pop songs in here.”

It took til a count of three to keep herself from telling him to stuff it out loud. She considered it a fantastic display of maturity. An idea blossomed in her mind and she gestured to the cigarette dangling between Judy’s fingers, “Can I?”

She hated the idea of it, already cringing, but…

Judy held it out to her with an inquisitive look, “Thought you didn’t smoke?”

V leaned forward, taking a long drag without taking it in her own hand. Johnny’s own rush of joy flooded through her brain, mixing her emotions and his in the uncomfortable, out-of-body way the Relic caused.

Hopefully that would be the pacifying her overgrown brain toddler needed to fuck off for a while.

And there it was: silence. Blissful, peaceful, if unsettling, silence. Johnny was there in the way he always was: twining around her consciousness, but his attention was elsewhere.

“Judy, can I kiss you?” V’s voice was breathless, needy and wanting to have, to experience before she had to share brainspace again.

Judy was already watching her with parted lips and at V's question she gave a small nod, closing the distance between them. The kiss was slow, a drinking each other in.

When they broke apart, Judy followed V as if for more before her eyes fluttered open. V's eyes flicked from hers to her lips, her heart hammering.

Johnny's thoughts bled into hers, melding together into one breathless request, "Again."

Then Judy was pulling V back close to her by the collar of her synth-leather jacket, fingers fisting into the black material of her tank top beneath, crushing their lips together in a deep kiss. V threaded her hands through Judy's multi-colored hair, losing herself entirely in Judy.

The telltale blue static filled the corner of her vision, telling her that Johnny was somewhere nearby.

"I meant the cigarette V!" Johnny complained, "Another cig!"

V paid him only enough mind to flip him off behind Judy's back, slipping her fingers from Judy's hair to wrap around her waist as Judy clambered into her lap, slipping V's jacket to her shoulders to trace the lines of tattoos along her skin.

She'd gave him a quiet mind when he'd gone on his failed movie date with Rogue. It was about time she called in the same favor from him.

#captainderyn answers #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cp2077 fanfic #judy alvarez #judy alvarez/v #oc: V #otp: beneath the city lights #Johnny and V bickering back and forth is one of my favorite things to write i love their friendship #sorry this took me a bit to get to nonny I hope you know I Was delighted to receive this

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cyberpunkren · 6 months

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Blood & Wires

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077

Pairing: Ren x RiverWard

Raiting: explicit

Summary: Amidst thrilling bounty hunting missions and perilous confrontations, Ren and River discover that, despite their differences, they share a common commitment: unmasking the mega-corporation and restoring justice in Night City. But as they delve deeper into the depths of the conspiracy, they also find a connection that goes beyond friendship and professional collaboration.

In the heart of betrayal and danger, love blooms in this tale of action, intrigue, and romance in a cyberpunk world filled with bright lights and dark shadows. As Ren and River fight together against ruthless foes and deadly conspiracies, they also fight for a love that defies all odds.

PART III

River's path

The sun rose slowly over the steel towers of Night City, casting its first rays of light onto the bustling streets.

River woke up early in his small apartment in Heywood. Despite the noisy city that never slept, his home was a haven of tranquility. He dressed in comfortable clothes, a worn-out t-shirt, and jeans, before heading to the small kitchen.

As he prepared a strong cup of coffee, the memories of that fateful day returned like an echo in his mind. The image of his parents, murdered before him and his sister, never faded. The responsibility of taking care of Josh, his sister, and her three children had been a burden that River had carried for years.

River took a moment to remember his family, reflecting on how the tragedy had changed their lives. Then, he shook his head, trying to push away those painful thoughts. Because even though his past was filled with shadows, he still had a future ahead of him and the determination to protect his family at all costs.

The day following Arachnid's capture by Ren, River is in his office at the Heywood precinct. The atmosphere in the office is tense, and news of Arachnid's capture has spread throughout the police department.

As he entered the police station, he was met with the same familiar faces he encountered every day. Though River rarely felt at ease, he had never quite warmed up to the NCPD. That's why he had trained as a private detective, even though he worked for the police.

"Good morning, River," greeted the receptionist, as she did every day, with a flirtatious tone.

River had all the female officers more than a little enamored, and he knew it. His all-organic physique, except for the cybernetic scars earned during his detective adventures, made him one of the most attractive men in Night City. River had had a few encounters with some female colleagues, but they were all one-night stands. After his last serious relationship, he couldn't see himself getting into anything long-term. He had neither the time nor the desire for it.

"Good and chilly morning, Natalie. What job do we have today?"

"All I know is that Watson is on fire today, and your partner in crime, Hans, is on vacation, so it's your lucky day," she explains, adjusting her blouse to leave nothing to the imagination for River. "I always ask you, River, but what are you up to tonight?" She asks, with excitement in her more-than-fake cybernetic eyes.

"Work, Natalie, you know that," he winks, aware of the power he holds over women, even though he's as soft as a piece of bread afterward.

River approaches his partner for the upcoming weeks, none other than Ren's lifelong friend, Watson.

"It seems we're partners these days, chum. I've heard you had quite the night yesterday?" River inquires with a keen eye, grabbing one of the best donuts from the oldest bakery in Heywood that still made sourdough pastries.

"Haven't you heard the news? Ren caught Arachnid last night."

River nods but doesn't seem too excited about the news.

"Ren, who's that? Another second-rate netrunner?"

Watson nods, explaining, "No, she's a bounty hunter. She's gaining a reputation in the city for her ability to catch fugitives. It seems she's been competing with you, River."

River furrows his brow; he's not used to sharing his territory with some bounty hunters. The news that Ren has been hunting the same fugitives as him doesn't sit well.

"Well, we'll see how good she is. I don't mind a little competition."

Watson nods, but he can feel the tension in the air.

The interrogation room at Heywood precinct was immersed in tense silence as River, Watson, and other officers witnessed Arachnid's questioning. Arachnid was about to speak, but before he could, a shot rang out in the room, hitting him and sending his body backwards.

Chaos and confusion erupted as everyone in the room reacted to the attack. River and Watson hurried to ensure that Arachnid received immediate medical attention. The identity of the shooter remained a mystery.

After an exhaustive search, River and Watson failed to find the shooter. Watson, with a furrowed brow, approaches River.

"River, we can't let the shooter get away with this. But we don't have solid leads to catch them."

River nods, concerned about the shooter's impunity.

Watson suggests the idea of working with Ren, citing her effectiveness as a bounty hunter and mentioning her progress in the investigation. However, River is not convinced. He has reservations about the bounty hunter and prefers to handle the situation on his own.

"I'm not sure I want to work with that bounty hunter friend of yours. I have my own methods for solving this case."

Watson nods, understanding River's position.

"Alright, River, if you'd rather go your own way, I respect that. But don't forget that Ren has already made progress in the investigation and could be our best chance to get to the shooter."

River is determined to follow his instincts and not rely on Ren. He begins to search for clues on his own, investigating the crime scene and gathering any evidence he can find.

Author's note: yeah, enemies to lover kinda story, just my favourite.

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seeker-of-truth · 18 days

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I, Pre Defined

Chapter 5: En Soledad

Word Count: 4059 (aprox. 10 standard novel pages) Estimated Read Time: 18 min. Content Warning(s): Cannon Typical Violence, Recreational Drug Use

holy shit were back and (hopefully) better than ever baybeeee - Sample below the cut

The meeting with Mr. Blue Eyes left V with a simple takeaway; ‘hurry up and wait.’ All that they knew was that a new security system was being introduced and that the station would soon be over Night City. Unable to sit around and wait, V’s life begins to fall into a routine. She wakes up every day around noon, gets ready, pops a tri-phet, and takes Vik’s pills, kissing Judy goodbye on her way out. Hopping on her Kusanagi and heading out into the city to do some gigs, occasionally taking another tri-phet to get through the harder days. Word had gotten around about the assault on Arasaka Tower, and fixers were offering her better gigs than they ever had before. The weird thing was the gigs weren’t even harder really, just more high profile. Every fixer in night city was practically lining up to give her their most precarious jobs; except for Rogue who had told V, “I don’t care if you’re hot shit now, as long as you’re working skezzed, you’re not doing a single job for me.” Around 11 pm she would call it for the day and head over to The Afterlife, knocking back a few drinks and gossiping with Claire, sometimes chatting with Nix about running and working on new daemons. After a couple hours V would head home, spending the rest of the night with Judy before quietly taking a beauty and crashing for the night curled into Judy’s side. She spends a week in this routine, trying desperately to drown out the ache in her soul that continued to persist. Every day that ache was still there, she would work herself harder, and harder, exhausting herself to feel nothing. She can almost pretend it’s working.

#cyberpunk fanfiction #cp2077 fanfic #cyberpunk fanfic #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 #Fic: I Pre Defined #OC: Verena Soto #i wrote that #seeker writes #Spotify

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commander-rahrah · 1 month

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Cyberpunk: Twin Flames - Chapter 7

A SilverV fic

Linked psyches. That was Alt's solution for them. Two bodies -- their own bodies. But souls and minds still intertwined -- feeling each other's pain and emotions. Never too far away, never far behind.

There could never be one without the other.

______________________________________________________

I just posted my seventh chapter of my Johnny Silverhand/Fem!V fic over on my AO3. If you are interested in reading, I have put a snippet below. You can read the rest over on AO3!

______________________________________________________

Only once she was covered, did Johnny finally look over and speak up. “What are you doing, V?” “Are you—? Getting fucking dressed dickhead, what does it look like?” He shook his head, his mouth forming a hard line. “Last night. This morning.” She turned around to face him, a single bow raised. “What?” “Playing fucking house with River.” He spat, waving his hands out. “Like you weren’t being hunted by cyberpsychos or zeroing scavs two days ago. Like you ain’t got a Corp assassin on your speed dial right now, waiting for you.” V rolled her blue eyes, “Jesus Johnny, sorry I want to live a little. Didn’t know I had to eat, shit and breathe your goddamn revolution.” He let out an exasperated sigh, “You don’t. But this ain’t you and you know it.” Something flickered in her eyes, her nostrils flaring. “What the fuck do you know about it?” He marched right up to her, matching the challenge in her voice, “The guy is talking to you about fuckin’ suburb trailer parks and kids and family recipes, V. Are you that stupid?” She shook her head at him, running her fingers through her wet hair, “Okay, so he’s a bit domesticated. But you make me sound like I’m some feral merc who could never—". Tainted anger flared through him. "You could never! He’s a cop, V!” “Used to be. Not anymore—" But he interrupted her correction, “He will always be a cop. And you will always be a merc from Heywood. Making coffee and pancakes after you get each other off ain’t gonna change that.” V groaned, her fists bunching up at her sides, “Jesus Christ— why are you telling me this, huh?” “If you’re gonna do that again, take the goddamn pills.” Johnny pointed a metal finger in her face. “What?” “Next time you fuck him or anybody else. Take. The. Fucking. Blockers." He enunciated every single world. Her blue eyes blinked, genuine shock crossing her face, "You told me not to take those."

He had, and more surprisingly she had actually listened. They had sat untouched, only one missing from that very first, chaotic night. Fuck, he wasn't even sure if she had them anymore. Maybe she had chucked them in a dumpster weeks ago. "I don’t care.” He growled, “Rather be suffocated by those fuckin' pills then go through that again.” She scoffed at him, “You seemed to like it just fine last night. Don’t think I didn’t feel you there, watching like a perv.” “Maybe, at first I—" The honest words stumbled out of him before he caught himself. “Then what?” He felt like he was gonna chip a molar, pierce through his lip. “God, I don’t want to do this with you right now.” “What the fu— you’re the one who brought this up!!" V shouted, completely exasperated as he made to turn away from her. "Everything gets to be on your terms, Johnny, doesn’t it? What you want, who you want. Don’t give a flying shit about the other person in the—" He interrupted her, nostrils flared. “In the what?”

Friendship? Relationship? Whatever the fuck they had.

Did she have a better idea of what this was? Why he felt like this?

“In the conversation.”

No. Of course not, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. It would never be that simple, not for assholes like them. "You're a fucking bitch, V." "And you're a fucking coward." She spat right back. His black hair swayed as he shook his head at her, "I told you not to do this, told you it would be too complicated." "I'm not putting my life on pause for you, Johnny." "This is what you want your life to be?" His dark eyes studied her light ones, flickering between them. "Some fake, domesticated bullshit until you realize you'll never be what he wants you to be? Be my fuckin' guest." "Better than anything you want for me. If it was up to you, I'd be fuckin' dead right? So you could just take my body for yourself." V went straight for the kill. She might as well have wrapped her teeth around his throat and shredded the skin. "Fuck. You." She’d thrown that in his face on purpose — she knew the guilt and regret that festered in him from saying that to her. It took all of Johnny to push it all down. The word vomit. The pain, the fucking pain, that was forming like a sob in his throat. "Take the fuckin' blockers next time V. I mean it."

And he glitched away.

#late post but I just posted and I’m excited #cyberpunk 2077 #SilverV #cyberpunk 2077 fic #johnny silverhand x v #Johnny silverhand fanfic #cp2077 #cp2077 fanfic #Vixen Volkov

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ceo-of-sloppy-men · 7 months

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Joyride

Ship: Saul Bright/V Rating: Explicit Tags: dirty talk, porn no plot, oral sex, rough p-in-v sex, gender-neutral V (afab), sex toys (if the Basilisk counts as a sex toy) Summary:

Saul's busting the balls of the Aldecaldos. So, Panam asks V to calm him down. V decides that a ride in the Basilisk is the best way to get the hot-headed leader to cool off.

#ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #saul bright #saul bright x v #v x saul bright #cybperpunk 2077 #cp2077 fanfic #nsft

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arcandoria · 2 years

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It's Fic Back Friday, so I thought: hey, time for self-care & self-promotion.

On-Going, posted PanV fics:

— YOU ARE MY IMPULSE - 4 Chapters, 2.825 words.

Ficlet collection, anything under 1k words go there. Has some completed prompts varying from fluff to smut to angst.

— CRAVE - 1/3 Chapters, currently at 2.487 words, to turn explicit.

Not updated for a while, but hell I will finish this one. Fluff and smut, though the smut part is yet to come. There's sassy banter, love bites, Nibbles, and pizza on top of the pool table.

Ever thought of something you'd like me to write for these two? Send away! 💌

#Cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 fanfic #Panam Palmer #Dante Alkan #Male V #Corpo V #otp: high octane #halk writes #fic back friday #fbfriday #I have decided that #every time I feel down about my content #for any reason #I'll self-promote and self-hype myself instead #so there you have it :)#panam x v

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v-stands-for-vega · 10 months

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WOW! It’s been a while. At the nearly TWO YEAR anniversary of this fic, I wanna announce it will be continued!!

Sorry about the delay, life happened REALLY fast and this got buried.

PLEASE please read the tags, as it does have potentially triggering material in it.

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #cp2077 #kerry eurodyne #silverdyne #cp2077 fanfic #cp77 fanfic #johnny/kerry #kerry/johnny

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aceghosts · 28 days

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Is This the End Or Is This the Beginning?

Summary: Stuck in an Arasaka Facility, Rooney Shepard makes a new friend/ally, an unexpected one: Yorinobu Arasaka. Title comes from Spiritbox's Too Close/Too Late.

Rating: M

Warnings: This fic deals heavily with Rooney's death, their resurrection, and subsequent feelings around this. Rooney is also a human being experimented on, and thus, this fic also kinda deals with that (Not much as death). It also discusses a near death experience involving dead family members and guilt over that. Also, Yorinobu and Rooney are kind of assholes to each other at the beginning. You have been warned; please let me know if I need to tag for anything else.

Words: 6,462 words.

Author's Note: Takes place before the events of CP2077, roughly six years before.

Tagging (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @alexxmason, @captmactavish, @carlosoliveiraa, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @nightbloodbix, @clicheantagonist, @theelderhazelnut, @strangefable, @voidika, @cassietrn, @direwombat, @cloudofbutterflies92.

AO3

For once, Rooney is alone-blissfully, mercifully alone-and it’s sending them into a paranoid spiral. A day spent working on a fixer-upper of a motorcycle would be fantastic, under any other circumstances. But in an Arasaka facility? Where they are being held? And monitored continually? Where they are being put through tests to push the limits of their experimental modifications? Rooney snorts, shaking their head. This wasn’t a gesture of kindness or a way to help them heal, no matter what their physical therapist or psychologist might say. Rather, it was a carrot on a stick, a reward dangled in front of them to keep Rooney obedient and indebted. Make Rooney less of a stubborn pain in the ass.

Rooney also assumes that it’s meant to keep them distracted, from snooping around while the scientists are in facility-wide meetings today. They would love to snoop, but Rooney knows they’re at a disadvantage. Outside of the necessary tests, their combat mods are disabled. Their other mods are only left to do essential functions. Plus, they’re locked in the room with guards stationed at both ends of the hall, unable to leave until someone fetches them, which has only happened a few times. But Rooney knows that they have additional opportunities to snoop. When you’re silent and unassuming, most forget you are there, casually talking about matters that you shouldn’t hear. As Rooney stays silent during their testing or checkups, the scientists talk, leaving Rooney to listen and learn. They’ve learned that most of the scientists don’t care for the lead, Dr. Yūto Maeda, on the project, but don’t want to miss working on a subject as rare as Rooney. They’ve learned about the inner drama between some of the scientists, some of it useful and some of it irrelevant. Rooney also learned more about the Arasakas, especially the failed one, Yorinobu, whose wild escapades always seem to be a topic of gossip.

Sighing, Rooney pushes the thoughts out of their head, focusing on the motorcycle in front of them. When they were left to work in the room this morning, they realized the motorcycle could use some TLC. Well, a lot of TLC. They have made significant process since this morning, now into the late afternoon. As they pick up the wrench, placing it on the bolt, starting to turn it loose, Rooney hears the sound of expensive dress shoes coming down the hall. They stop, their muscles tightening as their body shifts into fight mode. Rooney’s heart pounds loudly in their chest, adrenaline coursing through them. By the door, out of your enemy’s sight line, their instincts tell them. Grab a heavier wrench; use it as a bludgeon.

Rational thought kicks in a moment later. It’s probably a corpo executive coming to check on them, make sure that the expensive line item on Arasaka’s R&D budget (A.K.A. Rooney) hasn’t attempted to kill themself yet. If someone wanted to hurt Rooney, they would need to be quiet. Without the element of surprise, any enemy would be in an uphill battle against Rooney, even without their combat mods. As for dealing with the executive, Rooney would stay silent and be about as interesting as watching paint dry. The corpo would talk for a few minutes and leave once they realized nothing would be gained. Unless it was him. Please don’t let it be him.

As they focus on the bike, the footsteps stop, a beeping sound as someone keys in the code. Rooney does not look as the door slides open, loosening the bolt on the motorcycle. A few seconds later, he clears his throat, and Rooney still doesn’t look. They hear a dramatic, annoyed sigh as the person shifts, finally speaking, “Shepard.”

Goddamnit, they were right to feel paranoid. It was him, Yorinobu Arasaka, the Emperor’s son and the last person Rooney wanted to see. “Shepard,” He says their name again, his tone louder and sharper this time.

Rooney keeps their attention on the motorcycle, wishing he would leave them be. But Yorinobu isn’t one to be easily swayed. They hear him sigh in frustration, presumably pushing off the door. Rooney tenses, as he comes closer, ready to protect themself. Yorinobu is no Adam Smasher or Morgan Blackhand, but considering his history with the Steel Dragons, he is still a threat. Out of the corner of their eye, they see Yorinobu kneel next to them. He snaps his fingers in front of their face, Rooney flinching as he smirks. “Get your hand out of my face,” Rooney threatens, glaring at him, “unless you want to lose it.”

Yorinobu looks frightened for a moment, drawing his hand away. He eyes them warily as if Rooney might still make good on that threat. “You ignored me,” He replies like a petulant child, trying to justify his actions.

“Have you thought that I might not be interested in talking to you?”

“You were talkative during our last meeting.” Rooney’s mind flashes back to their last meeting, the first time that they met Yorinobu.

—

“Almost done, Shepard,” Elias says, tweaking some of the internal components of their mechanical arm, “Then, you can go to your physical therapy appointment.”

Rooney doesn’t respond, not that they ever do. The Arasaka staff learned very quickly that Rooney will not speak unless they need to. Most have grown accustomed to it, but for others, it’s frustrating. At their last therapy session, their psychologist, Dr. Naomi Kimura, broke down in tears, begging Rooney to say something, anything. But they wouldn’t, lest they give up something for Arasaka to use against them. Elias looks up from their arm, eyes widening as he glances over to the doorway. “Yorinobu-sama!” He exclaims, getting up to bow. “I didn’t know that you were coming to visit.”

“Last minute decision,” Yorinobu says, a lazy, unbothered tone to his voice, “I was curious about the old man’s new project.” Rooney looks over, their blue eyes meeting his brown ones hidden behind black square glasses. For the last few days, Rooney heard whispering from the Arasaka employees about him. Some seemed nervous, others annoyed. A third group seemed interested, leaving Rooney to question their sanity. All seemed to agree on one thing: Yorinobu was the fuck-up kid, Saburo Arasaka’s major disappointment of a son. Rooney holds his stare, staring blankly at him. He raises an eyebrow, almost waiting for Rooney to greet him. Instead, they look away, returning their gaze to the same spot on the wall.

“Don’t mind them!” Elias excuses, shooting Rooney a small glare for their perceived rudeness. “Shepard always behaves that way.”

“Do they?”

Out of the corner of their eye, they catch Elias glancing nervously between them and Yorinobu. He nods, rambling, “Shepard is always silent. They make the security robots seem chatty. But I guess that is what made Shepard a good soldier. Quiet and unfeeling, a hell of combo.” Rooney’s frown deepens, feeling like they’ve been smacked across the face. Not the first time that they’ve been told they are too emotionless, not human enough. Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

Yorinobu tilts his head. “What do you think of what Elias said, Shepard?” Huh, they hadn’t expected him to notice.

They stay silent, refusing to look at him. “Shepard isn’t going to answer. You’re better off-.”

“I heard you,” Yorinobu cuts off Elias sharply, “I want to hear from Shepard. Are you going to answer my question? Are you even still human?”

Funny he should ask the question that Rooney has been asking themself lately. What if they are some AI that is supposed to think it’s Rooney Shepard back from the dead? And how much of Rooney has to be replaced with metal and chrome before they are no longer human? Before they are no longer themself? An uneasy feeling settles in their chest, their stomach churning as they look down at their arm. What exactly are they? Does the old Rooney Shepard still exist? “Would you like to see the schematics for their arm? It’s a new design, one made for Shepard specifically,” Elias cuts in, sparing Rooney from more of Yorinobu’s interrogation.

“Yes, please show me.” They hear Elias sigh in relief as he and Yorinobu walk over to his desk, going over their arm schematics.

The minutes pass, and Rooney sits quietly, listening as they wait for Elias to finish with Yorinobu so he can return to work on their arm. Yorinobu asks plenty of questions, some surprising Rooney. He seems awfully interested in this project. Yorinobu is rather perceptive, catching small details that Elias tries to skim over, but rather impatient. They notice that he seems to get short with Elias when he thinks Elias is taking too long to get to the point.

As they listen to the conversation, Rooney realizes they will be late for physical therapy if Elias does not finish soon. Physical therapy is the only thing that Rooney finds useful, a way for them to get back to normal or as normal as they can be. Clearing their throat softly, Rooney watches the pair. Elias seems unaware, but Yorinobu looks up over his shoulder, meeting their eyes once again. He smirks, a challenge in his eyes. Great.

“Elias,” Rooney’s voice sounds a little rusty, “I hate to bother you, but-.”

“Now, you are able to speak?” Yorinobu asks, crossing his arms over his chest as Elias turns to face Rooney with a surprised look.

They ignore Yorinobu. “Would you please finish working with my arm?”

“Do not go to them,” Yorinobu orders Elias, who freezes in place, “Shepard-.”

“I don’t want to be late for my physical therapy appointment.”

“Answer my question.”

“Which one?” They ask.

“Are you still human?”

Rooney tilts their head, narrowing their eyes. Why does this matter so much? “Why?”

“Answer it.”

What a frustrating, annoying man. “No,” They lie, giving the answer that everyone already believes, “Elias, would you please-?”

“Liar.”

Elias glances between the two of them, fear stricken. “Excuse me?” Rooney asks, their tone frosty.

“I do not believe you,” He uncrosses his arms, coming closer to them.

“It doesn’t matter what you believe. That is my answer.”

“You are happy with-?”

Rooney cuts him off. “I don’t know what you hope to accomplish, but I’m not interested in playing your game. Elias, would you please finish with my arm?”

Yorinobu holds out his arm, blocking Elias. “Do you think you are better than everyone else?” Not even remotely. Rooney is well aware of their skills and strengths, but also keenly aware of their faults. Did Yorinobu think that Rooney thought they were too good to speak to the Arasaka staff? Mighty rich coming from Yorinobu, who definitely thought that he was better than everyone else here. He comes closer, and Rooney feels the disgust toward them radiating off him. “Do you believe you are special because you were chosen for this? Do you think my father will see how well you are behaving and reward you for being a good little soldier? Do you think Arasaka will not toss you in the trash the moment you are no longer useful to them? Or do you think you are the exception?”

Rooney clenches their right fist, the human one, fighting the urge to punch Yorinobu. Did he seriously believe that Rooney wanted Saburo’s attention? (Frankly, they hoped that Saburo choked.) What was Yorinobu’s aim here? Was he jealous? Was he here to make everyone as miserable as he was? Whatever the reason, Rooney had enough of this little tantrum. They were going to put an end to this.

“I understand now,” They state coldly, giving him a slightly pitying look, “You’re jealous.”

“What?”

They nod, using their words to twist the knife. “You’re jealous. You gave it away when you started talking about your father. We all know about your strained relationship.” Well, the Arasaka employees did; Rooney just picked it up from listening to them. “Everyone knows that you ran away, and when you couldn’t cut it on your own, you came back, tail tucked between your legs, begging for your father to bail you out.”

“You know nothing,” Yorinobu hisses, glaring at Rooney, rage palpable, “You do not know what you are talking about.”

Elias steps between them, perhaps afraid that a fight will break out. As he should be. Rooney might be one arm down, but they’re still going to put up one hell of a fight. “Yorinobu-sama, please,” He begs, “Allow me to finish with their arm, and I can tell you about the rest of the project later.”

Yorinobu watches Rooney, glaring at them with intense disgust. “Fine,” He acquiesces, and Rooney feels a sense of relief, “Report to me immediately after you’re done with them.” Yorinobu turns away and walks out, leaving Elias and Rooney both alone.

“You,” Elias snarls, turning to Rooney, “You should apologize. The Arasaka Corporation is the only reason you’re still alive.” Rooney doesn’t acknowledge his words, Elias scoffing as he returns to work on their arm. Why was Yorinobu here? And why was he interested in the project involving them?

—

“No more insults about how I am the failed son?” Yorinobu’s words bring them back to reality. They shake their head, unwilling to dignify him with a proper answer. He pouts, seemingly frustrated with their cold demeanor and lack of reaction. “Why?”

Was he asking them about their lack of insults? Truth be told, as they reflected on their words, Rooney regretted them. They don’t regret standing up to Yorinobu, but they do regret taking the low road. It was unbecoming of them, and Rooney was better than that. Everyone always expects them to be the bigger person, and they need to live up to that expectation, just as they would live up to every other unrealistic expectation set upon them. “Why volunteer for this?”

Rooney frowns, looking over at him. Wait, did Yorinobu not know? They just assumed that everyone knew that Rooney didn’t have a choice in being here. “What benefit do you get from this? Is it worth it to become a better soldier?” He grabs their left wrist, the metal one, a shiny new black and red arm, courtesy of Arasaka. “Why allow them to mark you like this? Do you think you will be rewarded for this? Do you think this makes you special? That you are the exception?”

“You think I volunteered for this?” A realization dawns on Yorinobu’s face before Rooney looks down at their wrist in his hand. Ever since Rooney woke up in that damn hospital bed, the arm never felt real, never felt like their own. It was a parasite, one that they couldn’t remove. Well, Rooney had thought about removing it once or twice, but they knew that the Arasaka scientists would make damn well sure that Rooney would never be free of it. Their head spins, chest tightening. Everything starts to feel like it’s a million miles away. A numbness settles upon them, a faint static feeling in their limbs.

“Shepard?”

“Yes?” They ask, their voice sounding like it was coming from another room.

“Do you feel well?”

They hate the concern and pity in his voice. “Yes,” Rooney replies, looking Yorinobu in the eyes as they compose themself, unable to read the expression on his face, “I’m fine.”

“Liar,” He responds, but it’s softer this time, not a damning indictment but rather unwanted recognition, “Come with me.” Yorinobu releases their wrist, standing. He holds out his hand for Rooney to take.

“Where are we going?” Rooney asks, staring at his hand suspiciously.

“Somewhere we can talk privately.”

A war rages within Rooney. They know that they should probably stay here and continue to work on their motorcycle… but Rooney can’t deny their curiosity to know more despite their disdain for Yorinobu. Mutely, Rooney takes his hand in their metal one, allowing Yorinobu to pull them up to his feet. “Follow me.” He leads them through the labyrinthine halls of the facility, never letting go of their hand.

After a short elevator ride and a walk through the hallway of the executive level of the facility, Yorinobu opens the door, holding it open for Rooney as he lets go of their hand. Rooney steps into the luxurious office, clearly meant for Saburo or his son. “This will be my office for as long as I am at this facility.” Wait. Does that mean? “You and I will see each other often, Shepard.” Their eyebrow twitches in annoyance at his smug tone.

“Sit,” Yorinobu orders, Rooney taking a seat on the black leather L-shaped couch. Neon red lights decorate the edges of the couch, a black coffee table in front of them. As they look around the office, Rooney notices that all the furniture is black with hints of red lighting. They look back to Yorinobu, who is shrugging off a maroon and black leather coat. “Here,” he tosses the coat towards them, “You are shaking.”

Rooney catches the coat, only now realizing they were shaking. They pull on the coat, noting the woodsy scent. Was that cedar? And maybe a hint of nutmeg? “Would you like anything? Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea is fine.” What they really wanted was a beer, but Rooney doubts he would be able to get that for them.

Yorinobu refuses to accept that answer. “What do you really want?”

They pause. “I want a beer, but I doubt you could find the kind I normally drink here.”

He laughs, slightly surprised by their answer. “If I leave for a few minutes, promise me you will stay?”

“I promise.” Their curiosity has gotten the best of them; Rooney will see this through to the end.

“I will return.” With that, Rooney is left alone in the office, crossing their arms over their chest. As they sit in silence, Rooney wonders: Have they misjudged Yorinobu? Why he is being kind to them? Obviously, Yorinobu was seeking information on the project involving Rooney, but they remember the way he looked at them earlier. That was something else, something Rooney couldn’t quite identify. The door opens, Yorinobu returns with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses in hand. “It is not beer, but I hope it will suffice.”

They give him a small smile. “Anything would do right now, even if it tasted like drinking pure gasoline.” Yorinobu smiles, sitting on the other side of the couch, leaving some space between them. He places the glasses down, before opening the whiskey bottle and pouring. As they watch the amber liquid pour into the glass, Rooney asks, “Is it Arasaka protocol for executives to drink and work?”

“When the occasion calls for it, Kaneko likes to drink while he is working. Fortunately for us, he is out of the office. Otherwise, he would insist on joining.”

“I’m glad he isn’t joining us.”

“Do you find me to be a suitable drinking partner?” Yorinobu asks, sliding one of the glasses over to Rooney.

“You’ll do,” Rooney teases, “Normally, the people I drink with are much rowdier.” Nights out with their fellow soldiers were always interesting. Rooney usually played babysitter, making sure the younger ones behaved and stepping in when the situation called for it.

Yorinobu smirks, a playful edge to his tone, “You have no idea how rowdy I can be.”

“I’m sure I don’t.” They take a sip of the whiskey, relishing the taste. It’s nice to have something expressly forbidden, even something as mundane as alcohol. Rooney’s diet was strictly controlled, lest any of their dietary intake mess with the mods. The scientists also wanted to make sure they were getting enough calories to have enough energy for the tests. Their mods burned up more energy, an unintended side effect.

He takes a sip, the smirk dropping from his face. “Does my father have someone special to you?”

Rooney tilts their head. “What do you mean?”

“My father,” Yorinobu sneers those words with such venom, sending a chill up Rooney’s spine, “will use a person’s loved ones to manipulate them, to force them into doing what he wants.” He glares down at the whiskey in his hand, and Rooney realizes how much he must hate his father. Another realization dawns on them. Was Yorinobu now concerned that Rooney was being forced into this, under the threat of their loved ones being hurt? Yorinobu looks up from his whiskey glass, an earnest, pleading look on his face. “Who does my father have on you, Shepard? Your family? Your child? Your lover?”

“Saburo doesn’t have-.”

“You do not have to lie for him, Shepard,” Yorinobu cuts them off, placing his whiskey down on the table, “We can help you protect them. You have to tell us.”

“He can’t hold my family hostage because they’re dead. They died when I was sixteen.” Just like the rest of their town when it was attacked by bandits, leaving Rooney the sole survivor of the slaughter.

Yorinobu recoils in surprise, clearly not expecting that answer. “I am sorry for your loss,” the typical response of most to that revelation, not that Rooney could blame them, “Do you have a child? Or a romantic partner?”

Rooney shakes their head, taking another sip. “I don’t have any children, and I don’t want any.” They had already made sure that would never happen. “As for a romantic partner, there is no one.” Any potential partners usually left when they realized that Rooney would always choose duty over them. Rooney couldn’t blame them; they deserved someone who could put them first. Not some broken soldier, who seemed to live for their mission. “You’re asking the wrong question. You should ask: who gave my body to Arasaka?”

Yorinobu’s face drops as Rooney finishes off their glass of whiskey. They hand the glass over to him, silently asking for another. He pours Rooney their glass, handing it back to them. Yorinobu picks up his glass, finishes his glass, and pours himself another. “You were not alive?”

“I was not.” Their right hand, the human one, holds the glass tightly, trembling as the memories rush back. Fire. Explosions. The vast emptiness of space. Choking. Panic taking over as the world grew dark. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part came after they died.

Rooney awakes, standing amongst the golden wheat. Above them are blue sunny skies, no clouds in sight. Ahead of them stands their childhood home, an older white farmhouse. Rooney was home; they were really home. They pull off their helmet, casually tossing it to the side as they breathe in the fresh air. The helmet lands with a thunk in the dirt. If they were home, did that mean-?

They start running, their spacesuit slowing them down as the farmhouse comes closer and closer. Rooney climbs up the steps, onto the porch. They open both doors (a screen door and a red one), before stepping onto the fake wood floors of the home. Heading towards the dining room, Rooney hears familiar voices. They pick up their pace, sliding to a stop in front of the entryway to the small dining room. At the dark brown table sits their family: Jack (their younger brother), Danny (their cousin), their aunt and uncle, their dad (Aiden Shepard), and their mom, Hannah Shepard, at the head of the table. Their mother rises from the table, walking slowly over to Rooney. Tears burn in their eyes as they try to hold back a whimper. Is that really her? Is that really their mom? “Rooney, my baby,” She comforts them, pulling Rooney in for a hug.

Her arms feel so real, and oh God, they had their family back. The one thing Rooney yearned for all this time. Rooney cries into her shoulder, only able to cry ‘mommy’ over and over as their mom rubs their back.

As Rooney openly weeps into her shirt, holding on tightly, their mom speaks, “You can’t stay here.”

“What?” Fear grips their heart as they look at their mom, sadness in her eyes.

“Your mom is right, honey,” Their dad gets up from the table, “You can’t stay here with us.”

“You don’t belong here,” Jack adds, getting up from the table.

Are they being punished? For not being able to protect Jack and Danny? For not being good enough? Rooney can be good enough; they’ve tried so hard to prove that. “I want to stay. Please let me stay. I promise I can be better!”

“You have to go, baby.”

Something starts to pull on them, fighting to rip Rooney from their mom’s arms. “Mommy, please!” They beg, holding on as tightly as they can. “PLEASE! LET ME STAY! I don’t want to be alone; I want to be with you!”

“I’m sorry, but you have to go, Rooney. Be brave for me.” The force pulls them from their mom’s arms, dragging them back down the hallway.

They scream. For their mom. For their dad. For their brother. For their cousin. For someone, anyone, as they fall into the darkness. Suddenly, they awake on a surgery table, Arasaka scientists standing over them. Rooney starts swinging as someone yells for them to be put back under. The darkness swallows them once again, pulling them into a dreamless sleep.

—

Someone touches their hand. Rooney looks down to find Yorinobu taking the glass out of their hand and placing it on the table. “I did not mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.”

He does not look convinced, brushing away tears on the right side of their face. “Please tell me: why are you upset?”

“No,” Rooney shakes their head, wiping at their eyes,”It doesn’t have anything to do with Arasaka, and I don’t want to talk about it.” That dream…hallucination…vision…whatever one wanted to call it was one of the few things that Arasaka could not touch. Could not take from Rooney. Could not taint.

“I think it is related. Tell me.” Yorinobu sounds like he’s trying to order them.

“No.” Their voice is sharper, a definitive end to this conversation. Rooney won’t tell him; Yorinobu can’t make them tell him. He might not be part of the group who did this to them, but he is still Arasaka, and Rooney would not allow him to take this from them. They could not allow him to take this from them.

Yorinobu sighs in frustration, mercifully letting it go. “How did you die?”

“Our spaceship was attacked. The pilot and I were the last two people on the ship. Eventually, it came down to one decision: my survival or his. And I chose his life.”

“Why?”

“Because he is my best friend.” Jeff’s face flashes in their mind. Rooney hopes he is okay; they really do. Jeff was their first friend in the military, eventually becoming like a brother to them. Rooney would trust him with their life, and they would gladly sacrifice it again for Jeff. “He’s like a brother to me; I wanted him to live.”

“Even-?”

“Even at the cost of my own life,” Rooney picks up their whiskey glass again, “If you’re going to ask me if I regret it, I don’t. I would do the same again if given the choice.”

They take another sip as Yorinobu asks, “Who gave Arasaka your body?”

“The Northern California Militia. I served for them during the Unification War and was still a part of the Militia after the war.”

“Do you plan to return to the Militia if you are able to?”

The question catches Rooney off guard. Arasaka couldn’t keep them forever, right? At some point, they had to return. And even if Rooney wanted to go somewhere else, which they didn’t, where would they go? The Militia was now their home; it was their family. Without it, Rooney was alone, completely and utterly alone. “Yes.”

“You would return to them? After what they did?”

Rooney nods. “Yes. Where else would I go?”

“Anywhere,” Yorinobu looks at them with pity, thinking they are pathetic for crawling back to the Militia like a beaten dog, “You could go anywhere else.”

“That’s a nice sentiment, but it ignores reality. I don’t have a safety net like you do. If I leave, I’m on my own. I’ll have no one; I’ll have nothing.”

“You think Arasaka is a safety net?” He retorts bitterly. “It is a cage; one you and I are both stuck in.”

“If Arasaka is a cage, why come back?”

“I tried,” He runs his hand through his hair in frustration, “I tried, but I could not get done what I wanted from outside.”

“Which would be?” He doesn’t answer, picking up and sipping on his whiskey instead. Perhaps, asking a different question might yield them the answer they want. “Does Arasaka normally do this to people?”

Yorinobu looks uncomfortable, unable to look them in the eye. “Arasaka does many terrible things.”

Not an actual answer. “I’m not the worst of it, am I?”

“You are not,” He confirms, looking back at them wearily. Yorinobu seems like a man who has been burdened by many secrets, both his family’s and his own. “You would not believe me if I told you.”

“I think I would,” They answer honestly, “I’ve seen a lot of strange and terrible things. I doubt what you have to say could surprise me.”

He shakes his head. “No, I will not put you in that position. You still have a chance to get out.”

“And you don’t?” Yorinobu doesn’t answer, looking back down at his whiskey again. Something else nags at them: Yorinobu’s hatred of his father. Obviously, Saburo was a bastard, but Yorinobu’s hatred of his father seemed to run deeper than just hatred for his father being a bastard. “Why do you hate your father so much?” His face darkens, pure rage in his eyes as he looks at them. Rooney holds his gaze, refusing to be deterred.

Yorinobu sighs. “For many reasons. My father is the type of man, who believes it is better to be feared.” He takes another sip of his whiskey. “He uses people’s weaknesses against them to bring them under his rule. Families, Secrets, Ambition, Money, whatever will be easiest to collar around their neck. He doesn’t even need to do anything, just the threat alone is enough to bring others to their knees. He is an old fool, stuck in his ways. He believes in a world that no longer exists and refuses to be part of the world that does. My father does this all in service of making Arasaka more powerful, to bring back an empire that has long been destroyed.” His hand tightens around the whiskey glass. “The world fears him, believing he is too powerful to bring down. They refuse to stand up to him. If they refuse to stop him, then I will.”

“How?”

Surprise overtakes him for a moment, before he narrows his eyes, slightly suspicious of Rooney. “When I admit to having plans to take control away from my father, many believe I am crazy, heretical even.”

“I’m not most people,” Rooney sips their whiskey before honestly admitting, “I think you mean it. You sound like it at least. Whether you will succeed is a different story.”

He rolls his eyes, unamused at their light jab. “What do you know of the bombing of Arasaka Tower in Night City in 2023?”

Not much. Rooney read some of the books available on Night City, curious to know more about the autonomous city. Fellow Militia members, who grew up in Night City, also mentioned the disaster, especially some of the old-timers. They heard more about it when Arasaka started supplying the Free States with weapons and soldiers. “I know the towers were bombed, and it devastated Night City for a while afterwards. Quite a few of the history books covered it in extensive detail.”

Yorinobu looks pained. “History books?”

“I was born in 2042.”

He mumbles something under his breath. “On that day, I learned that nothing could stop Arasaka or my father, except for that nuke. It is the only time that I have seen the old man falter, truly fear something with all of his heart. I knew that he could be stopped, that he was still a man. I will be the nuke that destroys Arasaka from the inside, once and for all.”

“I hope you stop him, Yorinobu,” Rooney means every word of it; they hope Yorinobu can bring Saburo and Arasaka crashing to the ground, “I hope you stop him and Arasaka once and for all.”

Yorinobu looks touched, perhaps not expecting that from them. In return, he says, “I hope you make him and Arasaka regret doing this to you.”

“I will.” Rooney will get out of here, and when they do, they are determined to be a huge pain in the ass for Arasaka. Reflecting on his words, a thought occurs to Rooney. Yorinobu must be here for information, and Rooney can provide that. Or at least, they hope they can. It might be information that he already knows, but it is all that Rooney can do to help. In this facility, Yorinobu is a potential ally, someone they might want on their side. “Do you have a holopad?”

He tilts his head, slightly suspicious. “Why?”

“You came here for information, right?” Yorinobu nods slowly, unsure of what they are getting at. “I can write down what I know for you. What they’ve modified and any additional information that I know of. The scientists and engineers talk when they forget I’m in the room,” They admit, slightly sheepishly, “I don’t know if any of it will be helpful, but if it can set you on the right path-.”

Yorinobu raises his hand, stopping them. “Shepard, I cannot involve you in this.”

“Why not?” They don’t fear danger; Rooney is well aware of the risks of something like this. “I know what is at stake. I’ve made a decision and decided that I’m okay with that risk.”

“You have no idea, Shepard,” he responds, “and you are making that decision after drinking.”

“If I was sober, would you accept my help?”

He searches their face, looking for any possible deception. “I would think about it.”

“Ask me tomorrow.”

“You do not take no for an answer, do you?”

Rooney shakes their head. “Not when it comes to something important.”

Yorinobu smirks, a playful look in his eyes. “So, I am important?”

They roll their eyes at his teasing tone as he lets out a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” He asks, still teasing them. “I think I like you thinking I am important.”

They scoff, rolling their eyes again. Rooney finishes off their glass, looking down at the bottle. “I think we finished it.”

“We did,” He confirms, looking down at the watch on his wrist, sighing, “Allow me to escort you back to your room.”

Rooney nods, placing their glass down as Yorinobu stands, holding out his hand for Rooney to take. They place their human hand in his, allowing him to pull them up from the couch. “Follow me,” He orders, releasing their hand. And they do.

As they walk down the hall, Rooney comes to a realization. They need to apologize to him. From the beginning, they had Yorinobu all wrong. (Granted, he hadn’t made it easy.) After his kindness this afternoon, even if it was a ploy to get information, Rooney owes him one. The pair reach Rooney’s sleeping quarters, a small room they’ve been given to stay in at the facility. Shrugging off his jacket, Rooney hands it to him. “I need to apologize for what I said the other day when we first met. My comments were rude and uncalled for-,” Yorinobu smirks, a small snort of laughter escaping from him as they frown, “I’m being serious-.”

“Do you think that is the worst that anyone has said to me?” Rooney doubts it. Others have probably said much worse, including his father. But that did not excuse their behavior. “I will accept your apology. I must apologize as well; I misjudged you.”

“I think most people would just assume that I volunteered if they weren’t aware of my death.”

“Not only that,” They tilt their head slightly as Yorinobu’s hand comes up to their face, tucking a dark strand of red hair behind their ear, “When I asked you if you thought you were still human, I did not think you were. I knew your answer was a lie, but for the wrong reason. I think you are very human, Shepard, but I do not think you are used to others treating you as such.”

“Yorinobu, I….” Words seem to fail them.

“Go to your room,” He motions, “I will see you tomorrow.”

They watch as he leaves, their shoulders dropping. Yorinobu’s words echo in their head: “I think you are very human, Shepard, but I do not think you are used to others treating you as such.” He was right. Everyone always expected the best from them, a dedication to a mission that could not be swayed. Now, Rooney has a new mission: helping Yorinobu gather information. First step: convince him that they were serious about this. Second step: find something to record their observations with.

As they step into their room, they catch sight of the black leather journal and pen. Dr. Kimura suggested that journaling might be easier for Rooney than speaking. They never wrote anything in it, knowing that Dr. Kimura would read it and use the contents to further harass Rooney. Grabbing the journal and pen, Rooney heads to the bathroom, slightly closing the door. If anyone came into the room, this would hopefully buy Rooney time to hide the journal. They open the journal and uncap the pen, slightly daunted by where to start. Perhaps they could start with their implants, working through what they know about them one by one. Afterward, they could write down what they knew about each scientist.

This also posed another question. If someone did find the journal, what would stop them from reading what Rooney had written? A solution pops into their head. During the Unification War, Rooney and their team used code to communicate with command, especially on sensitive missions. The code was crude, but it would buy Rooney time if someone at Arasaka was to discover the journal. Hopefully, it might dissuade the person that it was nothing but junk. They put the pen to page, furiously writing. One way or another, Rooney would help see Arasaka fall even if they were just a pawn in a larger game.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cp2077 #yorinobu arasaka x OC #kate writes #the rooney fic tag #I won't let fear compromise who I am #commander rooney shepard #OTP: It always comes right back to you #I'm sorry I had to post this today #otherwise it was going to be edited into purgatory #also very funny that I am posting this on Easter weekend lol #anyway this is a heavy fic #totally understand if you need to skip it #do what is best for you #also Rooney and Yorinobu aren't quite together yet #this is the second meeting fic #which is going to play into another fic

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elvenbeard · 21 days

Note

Soft OTP asks #9???

HIII this took me a hot minute öaskdhfasf. Thank you so much for asking!! I had this in my drafts forever and just didn't get around to editing it, but now finally here we are 👀

Prompts Handsome As Fuck

(Cyberpunk 2077 fanfic, Kerry Eurodyne x V, 1127 words; prompt: Write about your ship getting dressed up in fancy outfits together.)

“You want one of my ties?” V asked, and Kerry had to pause for a couple of seconds to ensure he’d heard him correctly. His hesitation made V’s head appear from behind the open doors of the wardrobe, and his expression changed from neutral expectation to laughter as he saw the face Kerry made.

“A tie? Do I look like I wear ties to ya?” Kerry asked with played offense and gestured at himself up and down rapidly. His shirt was still unbuttoned, he couldn’t find his belt, and he was already looking forward to switching his suit pants for something more comfortable – or nothing – as soon as they were back home later. He hated that the label made him go to this party, a formal cocktail event… that wasn’t exactly Kerry’s specialty, and the dress code only made it worse.

V snickered and the sound pulled Kerry’s thoughts back to the present. He was glad V’d be there with him tonight, happy to come even, as he didn’t get to dress up fancy for his job at the Afterlife really. He could, technically, but he chose not to, for a variety of reasons.

“Do I look like I wear ties?” V asked, posing to showcase his tattoos, fingers running through colorful strands of hair.

“Well, no,” Kerry shrugged, flustered, “Most of the time, at least. Today a little bit.”

V chuckled softly and returned his attention to the wardrobe briefly. He was already pretty much ready to go, dark pants and shirt, a sleek red blazer, his hair slicked back. It was still way shorter than back when they first met, too short for styling it much into a shape he liked. But he’d finally dyed it in his favorite colors again at least.

Kerry smiled to himself, and before getting too lost in thought once again continued to dig through a bunch of clothes on the armchair by the bed. Finally, his fingers got a hold of the smooth synleather belt he’d been searching for. At the very bottom of the pile, of course. He swiftly put it on and flinched slightly when a hand tapped him on the shoulder.

“Sorry,” V whispered apologetically – he really moved too quietly for his own good sometimes.

“Try this one, goes well with the shirt,” V smiled and handed Kerry a dark blue blazer with fine woven stripes of gold.

“That’s none of mine,” Kerry said as V helped him slip into it, expecting it to be just a tiny bit too tight around the shoulders, and the sleeves a tiny bit too long for him. Sharing t-shirts and other stretchy or less-fitted clothes was no issue between them, but when it came to tailored evening wear – or shoes – the problems began. Yet, this blazer fit Kerry like a glove…

“Now it is,” V grinned and, holding on to Kerry’s lapels, gave him a quick sweet kiss on the lips, “Looking handsome as fuck.”

“You… gonk,” was all Kerry managed to say, too surprised, taken aback, fingers trailing over V’s hands first, then feeling the soft, velvety fabric of the blazer.

“This fits me better than my goddamn wedding suit,” he muttered.

“Yeah, cause your stylist has no clue what she’s doing,” V said with a self-confident shrug, and Kerry chuckled.

“Thank you,” he then just said and kissed V back before slowly stepping in front of the mirror to take a look at himself. And damn yeah… he looked criminally hot, the colors of the jacket accentuating his cyberware and eyes, contrasting with his bare chest.

“Think I’m just gonna leave my shirt open,” he said, turning to see himself from different angles.

V laughed as he passed by behind him, and Kerry noticed him checking him out shamelessly. As he should, Kerry had never felt as good in a suit before.

“You can pull it off,” V said.

“You could, too!” Kerry said, gesturing loosely at V’s shirt buttoned all the way to the top.

“Prefer it like this.”

He picked a dark red tie out of the closet then joined Kerry in front of the mirror to put it on. Kerry watched as swift fingers flung the fabric around and skillfully turned it into a pretty knot.

“My father never taught me that kinda stuff,” he mused a little absentmindedly.

V paused for a moment.

“Neither did mine,” he said seriously, “Some guy in an old video tutorial did. Also taught me how to shave.”

Kerry realized his mistake.

“Ah, fuck… sorry, sometimes I…” he started, but V laughed.

“It’s fine,” he said, tie done neat and tidy, and gave Kerry a quick peck on the cheek before turning to leave, “Kinda flattering, in a way. That you forget it sometimes.”

“Love ya. Just the way you are, V,” Kerry said quietly and turned away from the mirror to follow V downstairs. Their Delamain had just passed by the bedroom windows and landed outside.

V petted the cat goodbye, then they both left the penthouse through the northern patio door.

“I didn’t always,” V mused quietly and Kerry almost paused in his tracks, “Love myself the way I am, I mean. Y’know what I bought from my first paycheck that didn’t go straight to Vik?”

“The newest braindance wreath?” Kerry teased.

“Okay… from my second paycheck,” V corrected himself and Kerry laughed.

“Hmm… not sure.”

“A fitted shirt, that actually didn’t really fit me all that well,” V said, “And a worn-out second-hand blazer, and an awful tie. I’d never owned any of those, my mother would’ve tossed it all out the moment she saw it. And even though I looked like shit, the euphoria when I saw myself in the mirror in that fit was unreal.”

So much suddenly clicked into place with V and his clothing choices for Kerry that he’d never considered before. V sighed as they reached the AV, the door sliding open as they approached.

“Kinda dumb, I know,” he said, “Putting so much weight onto a piece of fabric and outdated gender norms.”

“It’s not dumb at all,” Kerry shook his head and took V’s hand as they sat down inside while Delamain gave his little welcome speech.

“I’m a firm believer in ‘do whatever the fuck makes you happy’. Even if it’s something ‘kinda dumb’ like dressing however you wanna. If it makes ya feel good, go for it.”

V chuckled.

“Thank you,” he said quietly and rested his head on Kerry’s shoulder, “Love ya.”

“Love ya, too,” Kerry said, fingers entangled with his handsome date’s, his mainline, his big, unexpected late-life love story that he couldn’t even have dreamed of... The man that kept surprising him each day by showing him new ways to love himself unconditionally.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk fanfic #cp2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x v #male v cyberpunk #cyberpunk v #vincent ezaki #otp: to bad decisions #my writing #in which I am randomly hit by feels as I read through this for the first time in a while and yeah ;___;

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thewitchunderyourbed · 1 year

Text

When the sun goes down

Chapter 2

Pairing: JoyToy!Johnny x V

Warning: language, sexual themes, brief mention of violence and abuse.

Jhonny watched the mercenary speed into the traffic inder the pouring and slightly toxic rain of Night City.

Steam from the underground district heating billowed out of the manholes, making even a neighborhood like Jig-Jig Street gloomy, always teeming with bright lights and people of all kinds.

He didn't give a fuck about the rain but he couldn't stand the cold, his leather pants made good work covering his legs but his torn net shirt left his torso almost naked, he wasn't going to complain anyway, too haughty to even admit he was shivering.

The screeching sound of a black van hitting the brakes caught his attention.

"Looks like someone miss me" he thought sarcastically tossing away the cigarette butt and disappearing into a dark alley.

××××××××××××

V opened the door of her apartment and as soon as she stepped inside, she headed for the kitchen, pulling out a cold beer from the fridge.

She sat on her big sofa, switching the TV on and rubbing her temples as a headache began to make her day worse.

"Shit" she muttered.

Wakako was kind of right, she needed to relax in one way or another.

She opened the bottle and tossed the glossy metal cap on the table.

It catches the lights coming from the screen, reminding her of the cybernetic arm of that JoyToy, shining in the pink and blue neon lights.

Her phone rang making her jump on her seat, huffing, she answered the call, she would have declined if it hadn't been from Evelyn.

"Hello V, I hope I won't disturb you" the soft voice of the woman had always had a soothing effect on the mercenary's psyche. In another life, maybe she would have fallen in love with her.

"You know you can't, even if you wanted to. Tell me everything, Ev" She took a swing from the beer bottle.

"Our caretaker, Woodman, is looking for someone for a gig, one of the Dolls knocked him out the other night, tried to open his safe, and ran away. "

"...and? You called because...?"

"Woodman wanted you for the job but I dissuaded him. He doesn't want the Tiger Claws to know about this, he's pissing his pants, the fat pig" it was clear Evelyn hated the man.

"The doll that escaped, is he your friend?" V asked.

"Yes, he's a great asshole but he's not a bad person, V please, you need to find him before they do... They'll kill him" her friend sobbed.

"Hey hey, sure. I'll find him. What's his name?"

"Robert, but he performs as Johnny"

V stood up from the couch like she was electrocuted "SHIT" she shouted, taking the elevator to her garage.

The sun was already set to rise when she arrived on Jig-Jig Street but of the man, there was no trace.

××××××××××

Johnny rubbed the sleep away from his tired eyes and stretched like a cat.

An old and dirty mattress in an abandoned hotel has been his nest for the night.

He was starving, he didn't eat in almost two days and everything he got was an opened Spunky Monkey and two cigarettes.

His nerves were at their limits, he was a fugitive and he was sure that in one way or another someone would have captured him and dragged him back to Clouds or worse.

The reflection looking back at him from a broken mirror made him realize how miserable he looked, with the bags under his eyes, his ruffled hair, and his unkempt stubble.

Johnny managed to steal some casual clothes, a black tank top too tight for him and a grey zipped hoodie that was too big, and he tied a piece of torn fabric around his neck to cover the doll chip.

He needed money fast and he sure knew how to make them, so he entered the nearest seedy bar he could find.

The Maelstrom girl that kept looking at Johnny from the dark corner of the bar was creeping him out, not enough to be scared but he couldn't tell if she wanted to kill him or fuck him, maybe both and he preferred not to think in which order.

Eventually, she stalked closer and closer until the stool near him was vacant and she sat at his side.

"Hey, can I offer you anything?" she asked him, purring.

Johnny didn't know where to look, part of her face was replaced by cheap chrome and blood-red optics.

"Depends if you can afford me," he smiled seductively.

The hand that slowly rose from his knee and up to his thigh, until it played with his belt, gave him the answer he wanted.

It was quick and dirty, but not bad, he'd never liked to do it slowly and he was pretty sure the girl had left some bruises on him, as he had left them on her, the scrapes caused by the short nails of his right hand would stay on her hips for a while, but the black and blue bruises caused by his cybernetic fingers would have lasted longer.

He found himself with money for food and a taxi but not much more.

××××××××××××

"Have you seen this man?" V asked every Joytoy, pedestrian, and shop owner in the street but it looked like Jhonny vanished into thin air.

She inhaled deeply and entered a ripperdoc shop, he hated that viscid piece of shit will every fiber of her being, but Fingers could have known where Jhonny was directed.

She took the stairs up to the clinic if a room full of glitters, cybernetic body parts, and blood could be called like that.

A group of dolls and JoyToys were in the waiting room, some of them looking nervous or pissed and others in pain with tears in their eyes.

V tried to ask them too, sending a photo of Johnny that Evelyn gave her to their optics.

"I know him, he works at Clouds. Jesus, that man is a true and genuine whore, fucks like nobody" a green-haired doll told her.

"Any idea of where he could be now?" the merc asked hopefully.

"He said he wanted to be free, he was tired of... well, everything. But I swear I don't know where he went-"

The door of Fingers' clinic opened abruptly, and the skinny rat-looking man stood frozen on the doorstep, the fear in his eyes made V laugh, while he scrambled and tried to run to the stairs.

V cached him back inside and closed the door, locking it and turning around with a deadly and hunting gleam in her eyes.

"I-I swear I'm not installing flawed implants anymore, the chrome I sell is-" but he was interrupted by a slap on his face that almost made him lose his balance.

"You better! If I found you altering even half a screw on a chrome I swear to God I'll kill you... But that's not why I'm here. Did you see this man?" V hissed.

Fingers started to nod frantically "Yeah he came here a couple of times or more... Once for a problem with his synthetic liver and another... Ah yes he asked me to remove his doll chip but he couldn't pay so I sent him away"

"Any idea of where he went?" V asked grabbing him by his filthy net shirt and holding her hand in a fist, ready to punch.

"Jig-Jig Street, but I saw a ticket for a bus ride to Little China in Watson in his back pocket, he had such a nice ass-" the man recalled, still shaking, before V's first collided with his face.

This time he fell into the ground, coughing blood and spitting a tooth, while V stormed out.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk johnny #cyberpunk v #cp2077 #cyberpunk fanfic #johnny silverhand fanfic #jhonny silverhand x v #johnny silverhand x v #Bob #cp2077 fanfic #fanfiction

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captainderyn · 2 months

Note

Dear mentor my cp2077 cravings are way beyond my compression and I need v being completely Injured/hurt and relying on judy / or judy humming pyramid song to v till she sleeps

Or if you wish for oc content it would be

> magic studying together or symbolism with flowers :D

_ no forcing here o7 If you don't wanna write em you can do as you wish

> GLITTER ANON

Glitter Anon!! You bring me so much joy every time you appear in my inbox <3 Always happy to provide some angsty V with Judy saving the day. Hope you enjoy!

TW for canon typical injury and canon typical swearing

Dakota had been out of her goddamn mind sending V that gig and listing it as solo. Or maybe she'd misplaced her confidence in V as a merc, and V was just losing her edge.

Not that it mattered now, the data was sent to Dakota and the eddies were transferring into her account as far as V could tell from the static spiking across her vision and each beat of her heart sending shooting pain into her head.

Stupid netrunners with their stupid hidey-holes that were better than her netrunner hidey-holes. Despite throwing every hack she knew, straining her cyberdeck to the max while she dealt with the swarm of Raffen that had poured from the dark crevices of the 'abandoned' building like ants, she still hadn't managed to drop the 'runner before being hit by two or three hacks powerful enough to down a cyberpsycho.

Johnny's voice was ragged and tinny, like he was coming from a transmission with bad connection, as he pulled himself from whatever recess of his mind he hung out in.

"V, pull over."

She grunted as she hit another pothole, pain shooting through her entire body. It radiated enough that she couldn't even pinpoint where it was coming from anymore. She pulled one hand to clutch at her side as a jolt went through her.

"Gotta get back to Night City." She insisted.

Her emergency bag with stims was drained dry, her mind swimming from what was probably a higher than recommended dose of MaxDocs.

The gig had been too far to make it to the Aldacados' camp without needing to stop at one of the dodgy, gang ridden gas stations on the way. Too far out in the middle of nowhere to make it to Dakota's shop but just too shy of the borders of the city to make it easy for her.

Only option was the push through til she made it home and patched herself up. Anything else was too risky. Who knew who would sell her their help just to turn around and screw her over.

"V just pull over for a sec!" Johnny pushed again and she was about to snap at him again, turning her head like he'd be riding on a motorcycle alongside her, when she hit another bump.

Whatever injuries were hiding beneath raged in unison and her vision went dark around the edges, her body rebelling against consciousness and desperately trying to give into the innate urge to curl around itself.

Her already tenuous grip on her bike's handlebars faltered and within seconds the pavement was becoming acquainted with her body as she hit it hard, skidding to a stop as her bike charged into the barely-standing bus stop shelter at the edge of road.

V choked out a cough, spitting out red-tinged spit as she waited for the world to stop spinning and shaking.

"Get outta the road." Johnny snapped, scuffed black leather of his shoes stomping in front of her face as he materialized into a crouch, glaring at her from behind his aviators. "Gonna get turned to roadkill."

Pulling each breath in felt like hauling sandpaper down her throat into her lungs as V tried to catch the air that had been knocked out of her lungs. But she rolled over onto her side, then pushed herself into a seated position.

That alone felt like an accomplishment, especially with Johnny's nagging kick at the bottom of her boots until she'd shimmied all the way off the road. When her ass hit gravel she stopped, wrapping her arms around her knees and glaring at Johnny as heat that she really hoped was sweat slid down her face.

"Christ on a stick, you're pitiful." Johnny drawled, standing at her feet with his arms crossed over his chest, "Call your slam piece to come haul your sorry ass of the side of the road."

V scowled, fixing her eyes on her bike, smoking alongside the twisted metal that had been the rusted shelter. She hadn't been going that fast...had she? Everything was blurry.

"Even if you got that bike started, you won't make it a hundred feet." Johnny intercepted her plan, snapping his fingers. "What is her name, the one you make the hopeless puppy eyes at? I'm sure she'd take you in like the lost stray you are."

Feeling her glare on him, he tilted his aviators down to meet her look with raised brows. "You do it or I do it. I'm not dying again because the bitch-ass merc that I was unlucky enough to get stuck with let Raffen and pride kill her out in the Badlands."

Without breaking her glaring eye contact, V rang Judy. As the comm-line rang she stuck her tongue out at Johnny. He rolled his eyes and flipped her off. He flickered out of existence in front of her, just to re materialize leaning against the guardrail next to her.

"Someone has to look out for you." He groused. "You sure as shit won't."

Judy picked up on the third ring, her visual popping up in the corner of V's UI. Or what she could make out of it from the way her UI was glitching out.

"Hey V I was just thinking 'bout..." Judy's voice faltered, "V? The hell are you, what happened?"

V picked at the gravel in her palms, jammed between her skin and implants, wincing.

"Shit went sideways, wrecked my bike." She muttered, lifting her eyes to Johnny who gave an exaggerated 'yes and' gesture. She lowered her brows and he proceeded to make an even more exaggerated gesture.

He was impossible.

She cleared her throat, mouth like cotton, "Can you uh...actually, nevermind."

"Uh-huh, nevermind, what's your location I'm already on my way." There was a jangling like car keys.

But it was getting dark, and who knew what started to crawl around these parts when it was dark. She'd gotten herself into this mess and she could get herself out of it.

A force like a booted foot slammed into her side and V buckled, the sound that slipped from her choking out between a shriek and a sob. She heard Judy trying to ask her what was wrong, but her ears were ringing and the words were stuck in her mouth.

"Rancho Coronado, exit to the Badlands." Johnny supplied to V, standing over her with his arms crossed. Arrogant bastard. "Still think you can drag yourself back to H10?"

"Hnng, fuck, Rancho Coronado, by the old bus stop in the canyon." V choked out.

The minutes dragged as V hunched over herself, the world fading in and out around her. She was aware of Judy staying on the line with her, catching very little of the intense volley of what she could only imagine were heated curse words and the road noise of the van.

Then there it was, Judy's beat up blue van bouncing up the road in a cloud of dust. It groaned in protest as Judy threw it into park and was out before it had rocked backwards to a stop.

"V?" Judy's hands were blissfully warm against the chill that the temperate drop had leeched into V's skin. Judy tilted V's chin up and she forced her eyes open, "You still with me?"

God, she'd never been so happy to see someone, even if the thought of dragging Judy into her shit made her want to scream.

"Still here." V confirmed with a groan, a shudder wracking her, "Unfortunately."

Judy brushed her thumbs across V's cheekbones, lips pursing together, before she moved to slip an arm under V's arms.

"Let's get you to the van."

Moving felt like a monumental task, far too much of an undertaking. But if she didn't even try, then Judy would have to bear the brunt of her cyberware-heightened weight. And she'd already made Judy haul her dead weight from beneath the waters of the dam.

So V forced her legs beneath her and helped to stand with Judy's help, letting out a breath in a hoarse wheeze. Whatever edge the MaxDocs had taken off was wearing away, leaving sharp, ragged edges of pain spiking from various places on her body to mix with the general ache that was her existence right now.

Slopping into the passenger seat of Judy's car was a mercy on her body and she slouched, leaning her head back against the headrest with a whimper.

God, she was so tired of hurting. Hurting today, hurting whenever the Relic flared; her world had been one whole incessant hurt since taking that stupid heist with Jackie.

Then Judy was in the drivers seat, the van rumbling to life beneath them, and her hand was a gentle press on V's thigh.

"Do you need me to find a ripper?" And there was such matter-of-fact concern in Judy's voice, such a simplicity in the question, that V had to squeeze her eyes closed against the burn of tears and shake her head to work around the lump in her throat.

When was the last time she'd had someone care, somewhere there to haul her ass off the floor when shit hit the fan?

"Don't need a ripper." V rasped, "Nothing that can't be patched up at home."

Maybe she should get her cyberdeck checked out after the other netrunners' hits, but the static was starting to fade from her head to be replaced by bone deep exhaustion and hurt. If more issues popped up, she'd go bother Vik tomorrow.

If only to avoid landing on his doorstep in a pitiful state.

Again.

Judy put the van in drive, doing her best to avoid the potholes, her hand staying on V's leg. It was nice, comforting.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd had that either.

V leaned her head back against the headrest, eyes drifting closed, and let the ride pass by in a blur.

By the time V made it up the stairs to Judy's apartment, even with her help, she was spent. The floor looked like a fantastic space to just let herself collapse and sleep off all of today.

But that would mean bleeding all over Judy's floor and Judy's grip on her was unwavering.

Instead she found herself in the dim light of the bathroom, gingerly peeling herself out of her clothes. Her jacket and pants rained gravel down in a pitter-patter on the tile and her tank top clung to her skin with a sticky solution of blood and wound.

Judy helped her peel that off too, giving a soft curse at the angry welts and road rash across her torso, back, and sides.

"At least you were wearing leather." Judy said with a shake of her head, "Otherwise I'd be scraping you off the road back there."

There was enough admonishment in her tone that V snorted out a laugh, then winced as her body punished her for it. Already a massive bruise mottled her skin from hip up her rib cage from where one of the netrunner's attacks had hit her hard enough that she fell from what she'd thought had been a hidden vantage point.

Which had led to her fighting her way out of the swarm.

She explained it all the Judy to fill the silence aside from the hiss of the shower, to keep herself from cussing and wincing as between the two of them they cleaned the gravel and blood from her skin.

V let herself drift in the feeling of safety, let herself disengage from the high alert she always seemed to be on. Judy's hands were gentle as she helped V smear a sharp-scented ointment on her road burn and bruises and helped wrap gauze around the worst of it.

Sitting on Judy's couch in a t-shirt two sizes too small and sweatpants that were a couple inches too short, V let her head drop down onto Judy's shoulder. Judy carded her fingers through V's hair without enough tenderness that V could've cried.

"Thank you for saving my ass back there." she murmured, the emotion she'd walled back seeping through a crack in her voice.

Judy leaned back on the couch, tugging V with her so that she was laying half on top of Judy. V relaxed into it, angling herself so that she wasn't laying on her worst side, and nestled her head into the crook between Judy's neck and shoulder.

This was far better than crawling back to her own apartment, nursing her wounds alone, and passing out in the bed cubby with the help of whatever would numb the pain enough to help her sleep. Judy's hand continuing to card through her hair was like a siren's song for sleep.

"I'm always going to come get you mi calabacita." Judy whispered against her hair, "You're not facing Night City on your own anymore."

#captainderyn answers #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cp2077 fanfic #Judy Alvarez/V #judy alvarez #female v cyberpunk #oc: V #otp: beneath these city lights #every single time I forget what I tag them as #thank you for this nonny!!#I hope you know that if you ever wanna talk cp2077 my inbox and dms are open #but I also don't mind interacting like this <3 #cross posted this to AO3 if anyone is having issues with tumblr formatting #Johnny and V are...friend adjacent in my playthrough. It's def not a healthy friendship but its a friendship #this was an example where I can see this so clearly in my head but trying to find the words didn't work as well #something something I hurt my own feelings with Judy saying she'll always be there to catch V and then #well...ya know *gestures to endings*

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