Chapter Text
It happens when she’s walking away from Clouds. Neon lights nearly blind her as she tails toward Jackie’s bike. She had stopped by for a few drinks and a short conversation with Judy. The tattooed brain dance specialist had some lofty ideas about getting justice for the recently deceased Evelyn Parker and she wanted V to help. They had spent the better part of the night scouting the area together. Occasionally, their arms would bump against each other as V dutifully scanned the building. It felt weird, having friends again. After Jackie she swore, she'd never let herself get this close to anything or anyone.
Then a certain biochip had to worm its way into her brain.
The telltale crackling of electricity sounds behind her. She sighs. “I think I know now.” Johnny Silverhand’s voice floats (more like fucking slams) into her consciousness.
Looking behind her, V sees him leaning against one of the many food stands, chain smoking. Of course.
“Know what?” She knows she has to answer. The first couple of days she tried silence, and all it got her was a mega headache. Better to entertain him.
“Why you keep me around.”
“Oh, do tell, I can’t want to have my own feelings explained to me by a middle-aged man. Never happened before.” Sarcasm laced her tone, as it was want to do.
“You have any family, V?” She’s reached Jackie’s bike and makes work to straddle it. Johnny materializes behind her, blowing clouds in her face.
“You don’t have to fucking ask me; you got my brain. Find out yourself.” Revving the engine, she moves the motorcycle out of Japantown.
“Got too much to do, rather just know now.”
V rolls her eyes, anything to get him away. “No. Don’t got family.”
“Hmph, makes two of us.” Is what he says.
“That’s not true... You had your band.” A snort from behind her. “You had Alt.”
His lack of a response soothes her for a moment, but lately she’s found herself wanting those silences to be shorter. Maybe she’s just that fucking lonely. Then the magna cum laude of headaches hits her. To the point where she has to stop the bike, nearly throwing herself and her gear everywhere.
She coughs, doubling over and attempts to find the street. It’s as if Johnny is doing a drum solo inside her head. Her vision blurs from the ruckus. “You... Fucking... Asshole-“ V ducks into an ally, the bike forgotten in the middle of the street.
Johnny appears in front of her, slapping her for the second time since they've met. It’s almost strange knowing they can touch yet it’s exclusively used for violence. “Don’t talk about Alt.”
Ah, a sore spot indeed. It had only been a day or two since their little foray with the Voodoo Boys. V knew far more about Johnny than he was comfortable with. And the fact that she saw Johnny get flat rejected by an all powerful A.I. version of his ex. But V was pissed. She had enough of the headaches, sleepless nights, and spiked anger levels.
“It’s not Alt that makes you mad,” she spits. “It’s the fact that you burnt down Arasaka for love instead of your stupid ass ideology.”
“Shut up, V”
Bingo. She usually never gets to him. V lets herself revel in the moment. “We’ve all done dumb shit- I moved to Atlanta for some guy, you killed half the city population. Neither of us got what we wanted.”
Johnny Silverhand makes a noise of disgust.
“Didn’t tell me, you know? Why I keep you around.” She offers.
“Because you got no idea what it means to be close.” Smoke descends on her face. “And I’m the best you got.”
V scoffs. “We’re not close.” She steps away from the wall, calling the bike.
For once, Johnny goes quiet, opting to give her a sly smirk instead. V huffs in annoyance, if he wants to be coy, then she’ll shove coy up his ass. She boards the bike desperate to change the subject.
“I was thinking next up we’d hit Charter Hill—”
“Nah, V you should go home.”
“What?”
“When was the last time you slept?”
“Oh hello Dr. Silverhand, did you forget I’m dying?”
“And you're fucking speeding it up.” He flicks his finished cigarette at her. “Go home.”
SOME TIME LATER....
V finishes her own cigarette outside of her open window. Johnny had mercifully left her alone since she turned her bike in the direction of the apartment. She could have opted to call up Panam and sleep under the stars, but she doubted it would get her the hours her bed would provide. Despite the fact that it had probably been a solid couple of days since she last properly slept, V was restless. There was too much to do and time was running out-
“Never do listen to me, do you?” There he is again, materializing next to her at the window.
“Why would I ever make things easy for you?” V replies. Suddenly, her cigarette didn’t feel as satisfying as she thought. She flicks it over the ledge. The polluted air of night city wasn’t providing any relief. She closes the blinds.
V gets to work on her nightly routine. At this point, it felt ancient, a relic of a life that was no longer hers. Things like eating, showering, and sleeping were low on her list of priorities ever since her expiration date had been moved up significantly. Making a name for herself… Or having at least a minuscule impact on the world. That was what she cared about.
She changes into one of the rattier tees from her stash, the heat from the shopping center below has her skipping on finding bottoms. Eyeing her bed, the idea of melting into the sheets didn’t seem so bad at the moment. V climbs into her little pod and shuts her eyes.
“You say we aren’t close, yet you’re wearing my shirt to bed.” Fuck, just when she thought she had ditched him for good he always proves her wrong. Blinking awake, V sees Johnny lounging on the couch, feet propped on her table. He’s looking at her, more specifically the thing covering her body.
Her gaze flicks to the shirt she’s wearing. The Samurai logo is clear as day across the front of the oversized thing.
“Pfft, last I checked I bought this shirt from your biggest fan so it’s mine.” She rolls over on her side. The wall is a way better view than him.
He’s there in an instant, crowding her in on the bed. V shoots him a murderous glare. “First you want me to go to bed, now you won’t fucking let me. Spit it the fuck out Johnny.”
The shades are on again, hiding his eyes and suddenly she gets it. Johnny’s scared shitless. Scared of being close to someone else, scared of the thought of being scared of losing them… She should have known when he argued for her life to Alt.
They’re friends. Probably best fucking friends. And Johnny Silverhand didn’t do best friends.
“Yeah.” Is all he says.
Her eyes snap to him, she doesn’t have enough time to school her expression (or thoughts). He cares about-
“I never fucking said that.” He counters.
A sly smile stretches across her features. “You think you got it all figured out, rockerboy.” She leans back onto the pillow. “But maybe you’re soft after all. Blowing up Arasaka for a chick, telling me you care about me.”
“Eughh, V, you’re gonna make me puke.”
“Good, if it means you’ll let me sleep.” She lets her eyes shut feeling the receptors in her brain begin to quiet as unconsciousness takes over. The shirt rides up a bit over her stomach as she shifts around to find the proper sleeping position.
“I’m only gonna say this once.” Johnny says. V is about to snap her eyes open and really give Silverhand a piece of his mind for interrupting again-
“Don’t open your fucking eyes. This’ll only take a minute.”
Challenging authority was kind of V’s thing. Sticking her chin to the corps, the cops, and gangers was what was making her reputation in Night City shine. V never had to answer to anyone. To a lot of folks in Night City that would be considered true freedom. She's about to tell Johnny where he can shove his commands until she feels the metal hand on the curve of her arm. A shiver going down her spine and her mind blanks for a moment. She hadn't been purposefully touched in so long. There is no way to process it because he starts talking again.
“We do whatever it takes to stop Arasaka—”
“Here we go again.” She quips, keeping her eyes closed
“But, no more of this… Not eating and sleeping shit.” Is his hand creeping closer, or is it her imagination? Get a fucking grip V-
“It’s bad for biz, not just my biz, but your biz too. Do you get what I mean?”
She nods.
“So even if I have to show up and bother you till it happens, I will. It’s happening either way.”
No one had ever said this to her before. V grew up scrounging the streets of Night City, her parents a distant and blurry memory. No one was sending her to school or putting meals on the table. So, V taught herself in the abandoned buildings she called home as a child, fiddling away with tech till the sun rose. She’d venture on her own for food either stealing it or picking up enough biz to get by. There was no one by her side telling her to do anything. No semblance of structure, family, closeness…
Or love.
Fuck.
“You hear me, V?” Oh shit, she sincerely hopes he didn’t listen to any of that.
“Yeah. I hear you.” Then, it goes quiet, and V is left in her bed alone.