#hi i took this prompt and made it Emotional. as i tend to do. :3c

[kharonion]

ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ

Warnings: Mentions of grief (specifically, grief dreaming)

“C’mon, V. Want to show you around.”

He recognizes this place from the rockerboy’s memories. Atlantis. Only this time, he’s not in Johnny’s likeness… no, no, he’s here. And Johnny’s chatting with him like they’d been chooms for years. Hell, he even shares a drink with the man. It all feels… so real.

“I want to thank you, V. For everything… but especially for this. For giving me… peace, I guess. Feels fuckin’ weird. But, it’s also pretty fuckin’ good.”

“You deserve it, you know. Much as you want to believe you don’t.”

Johnny laughs, and it’s contagious. “Wanted to. Past tense. You’ve taught me a lot, V… but that’s gotta be the most important one. Wish I could repay you—”

“Oh, shut up, J. You’ve done more than enough. I wouldn’t be here without you—and I mean that.”

“Well, fuck. Cheers to that, you grumpy bastard.”

They sit. They drink. They talk, laugh, joke. 

And then, he wakes up. Drenched in a cold sweat, his head fucking pounding.

He sighs. Sinks his head back into the wall of plush pillows, rubs his face with his hands. The soft snoring beside him is grounding. He’s trying to mend his cracking composure because fuck, every time he wakes from these dreams, the loneliness eats at the fiber of his being.

Vikt trudges to the bathroom, habitually popping open his handful of medication bottles and downing them. The cold water soothes his burning throat, feels good as he washes his face. And there he stays, hands clenching the vanity’s edge, chin tucked to his chest.

Still, he haunts him. 

Still. 

He starts to shake. Fuck.

He misses him. Misses those stupid quips, that irritatingly cheeky smirk… and strangely, the rockerboy’s company, invasive as he could be sometimes. 

Misses the man who quickly became the only family Vikt’s ever had.

A light drip begins hitting the sink, though the faucet has since been turned off. His throat tightens, throbs. Struggling to contain the sobs lodged there, and he can’t swallow them down. They escape. Echo against the linoleum walls. They’re loud, pained, stricken with grief. 

Still, he’s gone. 

And yet, he can’t leave.

“Babe,” a rasping voice, fatigued and concerned, drawls from the doorway. That familiar, warm presence presses right against his back, gentle hands snaking around to rest over his heart—his heart that hurts…

“Do you… still see him sometimes?”

Gently, lips meet the notch between his shoulder blades. “Yeah. Mostly reminiscing on the old days, y’know?” He trails off. The way he always does when his thoughts toe into the shadows, before he quickly recovers his path. “Same dream?”

“Yeah. Same one.” Vikt sighs, tries to wipe the grogginess from his eyes. “Fuck, Ker, it just… always feels so real. He takes me there, and he talks to me like I’m there. It’s like he’s… like he’s not actually gone. He fucking thanks me… and then I always wake up feeling… devastated, almost…”

Kerry hums. He understands. “My guru always told me it was grief dreams. Said they usually happen when your brain hasn’t processed the loss… or somethin’ like that. I had them for a while… after, y’know…”

“They ever go away?”

“No,” Kerry whispers, kissing the spot again, “but it does get easier. I promise, babe.”

#grief // #hi i took this prompt and made it Emotional. as i tend to do. :3c #red dirt halloween #khar writes #oc: vikt #brotp: we've got a city to burn #cyberpunk 2077 #c2077