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quickhacked · 5 months

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drastic + vincent please :3

DRASTIC [x] characters >> vincent mayer (oc), vitali dobrynin (oc) context >> july 2077; vincent and vitali are in tucson to try and figure out a way to stop vincent from dying after johnny silverhand has been successfully removed from his head total >> 1.6k words warnings >> death mention, hospital, needles, surgery mention

‘Vincent. Can you hear me?’

Wakey wakey.

Vincent could barely open his eyes, eyelids and head still heavy with sleep. The air surrounding him was surprisingly cool; as far as he was concerned it was the middle of summer, and he was in Arizona of all places. Wasn’t it supposed to be sweltering?

Someone gently took his wrist. The action itself did not hurt, nor did the feeling that followed– but it caused him instant discomfort that bordered on pain, the sensation cramping up his entire arm and it took him a second to realize it was the work of a needle that was stuck in the top of his hand.

He was in the hospital. He had just gotten out of surgery.

His eyes finally opened, bright light pouring in from the window on his left and momentarily blinding him as he groaned and tried to adjust. The nurse beside him gently placed his hand back on the mattress and hummed a song as she checked something on the screens, gloved fingers rapidly tapping on the keys of the digital keyboard as she typed in some information.

The soft hum of the devices around him was like a lullaby and Vincent slowly exhaled as he closed his eyes again; but a sudden weight on his chest– as well as the sudden realization of what the surgery had been for to begin with– violently ripped him back to reality and he gasped for air, as if all oxygen had suddenly been taken from his lungs.

‘Easy,’ the nurse said, placing a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from sitting up. ‘You’re alright, Vincent. Everything is fine. Try to breathe as normal.’

Easier said than done. He had a fucking cybernetic lung now– and sure, it worked, but the idea alone was more than enough to cause involuntary tears to well up in the corners of his eyes as he could feel his irregular heartbeat in every single inch of his body and his unstable breathing scraped painfully past the dry inside of his throat.

Ever since he had arrived in Tucson it had been one surgery after another. Preventive measures for the most of it– save from the removal of a bullet shard that had still been stuck in his head, the last bit Viktor hadn’t been able to dig out before– replacing damaged organs where possible and removing previously installed implants to minimize risks.

And none of it had helped so far.

Vincent was still very much dying, despite all their efforts. Initially thought to be the damage the Relic had caused in his body, irreparable at that; not so irreparable anymore but with all holes patched and the ship still sinking, he couldn’t help but wonder if Soulkiller was still working its magic.

Sure, the program had been on the Relic itself– but then again, all technology had gotten damaged by that bullet and with Johnny’s engram overwriting his psyche and then his psyche overwriting all of that to separate himself from the biochip, who knows what kind of malware had managed to sneak its way in in the meantime?

‘There’s a visitor waiting for you,’ the nurse said, shooting Vincent a gentle smile after he had managed to settle down again. ‘Would you like me to get him for you?’

‘Yes please, thank you,’ Vincent replied, not needing to ask for a name to know exactly who she meant, and he couldn’t stop his heartbeat from rising in excitement and relief when she left the room to call the man in.

It still managed to catch him off guard, to see Vitali Dobrynin out of his usual work attire. A sight he had gotten to grow more familiar with over the last few months– the whole situation with Johnny had driven Vitali out of the office often enough for Vincent to catch him in simple sweatpants and a hoodie on the regular– yet it still felt a little strange to him. “The man sleeps in a suit,” Jackie had once jokingly told him. Vincent wouldn’t have batted an eye.

‘How do you feel?’ Vitali softly asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, sleeves of his flannel loosely rolled up and only partially covering his forearms. His hands were clasped together on his lap– for once not a single ring adorning his slender fingers– and he nervously ran his thumb over the side of his index finger.

‘Little strange,’ Vincent admitted as he reached out to take Vitali’s hand in his own. ‘The more I think about breathing, the harder it gets. I know it’s just between my ears, but– you know.’

Vitali quickly nodded, a light smile on his face as he shuffled a little closer and leaned in to press a kiss on Vincent’s temple. Which, of course, also caught him off guard; with the complete chaos of the aftermath of the attack on Mikoshi he had continuously forgotten about the fact he was dating the fixer now, and now that they could finally have some time for themselves it still did not feel entirely real to him.

‘Don’t you think all this is– I dunno, maybe a lil’ drastic?’ Vincent quietly asked, allowing the other man to cup his cheek and run his fingers down his face. ‘I mean– I don’t feel much different than before. Just increases risk of cyberpsychosis if anything. Even with all the removed implants.’

‘You might not feel it now but something is still happening in your body,’ Vitali simply replied, the pre-programmed answer he had been giving Vincent for weeks now. ‘Sooner or later you will start feeling it. And then you’ll be glad we had precautions done before it got too bad.’

‘Costs a shit-fuckton of money.’

‘Which I have.’

‘Well, I don’t.’

‘You don’t need to.’

Vincent clenched his jaw and exhaled sharply, the action causing his chest to tighten a little and he winced, brief panic overtaking him; but nothing else happened, the cybernetic lung doing its job perfectly fine, and he allowed himself to relax again.

It did not feel right to let Vitali pay for his surgeries. He had done so from the fucking beginning, no less– when Vincent had gotten a correction surgery on his chest and Vitali had told Viktor to put it on his tab, despite Vincent continuously telling him he’d get the eddies himself after his recovery.

But Vitali was a stubborn man– painfully so, insisting on helping Vincent wherever and whenever he could. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course; but definitely so out of guilt as well, having to live with the knowledge he had not been able to save T-Bug and Jackie and because of that so desperately trying to save Vincent while he still could.

If he even could.

Vincent lowered his gaze, softly biting the inside of his lip as Alt’s words echoed through his head again. He was dying; there was no denying it, even if he didn’t feel it just yet, and if they wouldn’t figure out what exactly was going on with him he wouldn’t make it to the end of the year.

If he had done the calculations right, he’d be on his deathbed on Vitali’s birthday of all days. He couldn’t do that to him.

But perhaps Vitali was right. Perhaps the surgeries did help and would at least give him a little longer than what Alt had predicted. Perhaps Alt had not even told him the truth; perhaps whatever was going on with him in that moment was only temporary and the effects would wear off the more time would pass.

But with more and more of his body turning into a machine, Vincent could not help but wonder if it wouldn’t just have been easier to transfer his psyche onto a fucking biochip too.

Would’a been a copy, V, you know that. At least you’re still you, now.

But for how much longer?

Even Johnny– or, well the voice in Vincent’s head pretending to be Johnny– couldn’t answer that.

Vitali suddenly turned, pulling his legs onto the bed and moving closer until he was sat directly next to Vincent, leaning back against the raised mattress. He wrapped his arm around his shoulders– and Vincent in return moved closer without hesitation, burying his face in his boyfriend’s chest, grateful the painkillers were numbing most of the pain in his upper body.

‘We will figure this out, my love,’ Vitali softly mumbled and planted a kiss on the top of Vincent’s head. ‘I promise. I’m not giving up on you.’

He had paused all his business and tossed aside all his responsibilities to help Vincent find a cure. Had left Night City behind– had left his business in the hands of Mikhail– and even now weeks later he was still there by his side, paying for his surgeries and keeping him company through it all. Of course Vitali was not giving up on him– and Vincent had never received such devotion before, to the point he had no idea what to do now that it had fallen right into his lap.

‘I love you,’ he simply whispered in return, on the verge of choking back tears when he felt Vitali momentarily tense up. ‘I love you so much.’

He didn’t know how much time he had left. He didn’t know if Alt was right, he didn’t know if any of what they were doing there was helping him at all–

But at least he wasn’t alone.

At least he had Vitali.

#asks #faerune #writing asks #nuclearwriting #THANK YOU AND SORRY FOR THE WAIT. my brain is a bad soup lately i cannot get myself to write but i Did it #all of what they're doing there DOES eventually help out because vincent's body was very much just. dying. slowly #and the surgeries and all that stopped That specific process so that's a win. and then they get rid of the remnants of soulkiller #and then he's no longer dying :^) or well soulkiller is still there but it's dormant now. he's been given a stabilizer #so Technically soulkiller could still become a problem again in the future but i'm not gonna do that. he deserves a happy ending x

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