🐟🌀

There's only so many times V can call his name when Johnny only appeared as he chose to. The one time V needed to talk to him, needed to soothe the ache in their chest, he doesn't want to show his face.

How bad is it this time?

V doesn't like to play that guessing game. The rules are unfair and he's yet to understand the ways Johnny's mind works. He doesn't let you in unless he's decided you're safe, and even then, he'll run again. Whenever he pleases, just to protect himself. He'll spit vile words and break things just to make a point.

But the apartment is just as V left it and there's nothing different. Or, well...

There's this soft blue stuffed animal tucked into the corner of the bed. One V didn't buy and one he never even glanced at. Has it been here long? He pretty much just got back from a gig, all he planned to do was shower, and then he felt all of that fear start eating at him. It isn't even his own.

The moment his eyes land on it, the burning in his chest gets ten times worse. Is this the problem? He had stepped inside and the hurt started almost immediately... Is this the cause for concern?

He doesn't want to ask, or call out again, but giving Johnny his own space has only ever proved to make things worse.

So, quietly, he calls his name.

"Johnny?"

It's without any anger, softer than a moment ago when concern was growing more violent in his head.

Slowly, he steps forward, not minding the tracks his dusty boots leave on the floor. Later, he'll clean it up like the rest of the apartment needs.

The bed squeaks as he sits on the edge, a hand reaching for the soft fabric of the plushie tucked into their bed. It was their bed now, wasn't it? Months of it being the two of them, sometimes Johnny would appear nestled into the blankets too. Though V isn't always sure he slept. The tossing and turning never meant anything good anyway.

"C'mon, Johnny..." V sighs as his thumbs brush over the fluff. He leans forward, elbows on his knees.

Is this little thing causing this much damage? Is he seeing something, holding something, he wasn't supposed to know about? Did Johnny find this on some excursion when V had last handed him the body?

Since V was a kid, he never cared too much for stuffed animals. Or maybe it was that he didn't like them. The ones that were popular when he was young all had this odd fabric, catching on the dry parts of his hands no matter how moisturized his skin was.

This is nothing like this. It had to have coat a lot, especially these days. He can brush through the fluff, rather than the fuzziness catching on his fingertips.

Though, elsewhere, fuzziness feels like it isn't far. Along with the fear, the terror in his chest, a fuzzy, hazy feeling sits far away in his mind. It comes closer, he feels it getting close.

He feels Johnny getting close.

That's what it is, of course it is.

Subtly, V smiles down at the stuffed animal.

"It's a stuffed animal, Johnny, come on now..." V speaks aloud, voice rumbling in his chest with the burn of fear. He breathes, though that can't soothe it if it isn't his own fear he's trying to fix.

He doesn't glance away from the little thing, even as he feels Johnny's presence creep closer in his head. Close enough that V would usually worry if he'd fight for control, but this.. it doesn't seem like that's his goal now.

"Y'know, you could've told me. Save me the worry of you freakin' the fuck out." He lets out a halfhearted chuckle.

The fear bubbling in his chest soothes to a simmer again, even if it still feels tight in his chest.

"I know..." V murmurs, "I know you're scared, Johnny. 's just you 'n' me here, hm? Ain't anyone comin' in." He promised, eyes only glancing up to the door to make sure it's locked, then he's back focusing on the plush.

He breathes, and suddenly it feels a lot less heavy.

Is it working? Is he helping?

"Do you wanna sit with me? Can tell me about this guy here if you want." V hums, a hand brushing over the stuffed animal's ear.

The sound of glitching shouldn't fill him with hope the way it does now.

At his side, tucked further back in the bed cubby, Johnny sits and stares at him through dark sunglasses. His bulletproof vest protecting him, shoulders raised much too high to be comfortable.

"See? You and me, and.. who's this?" V acts without thinking, turning and placing the stuffed animal right in Johnny's lap. Somewhere buried in his own head he feels like he has to talk to Johnny like he's a kid. He's sitting like a scared kid after all.

For a moment, it's quiet. V bites at his lip as he waits. Did he just ruin what he thought was helping?

"It's.. just a dog..." Johnny scoffs as if it isn't important at all to him. His hands hold the stuffed animal in his arms.

Sometimes, V wonders if Johnny knows the full strength of that metal arm. It digs so much deeper into the fluff, clutching it, despite the other hand being mostly relaxed.

"Then does the dog have a name?" V crossed one leg over the other, leaned back against the framing around the bed. He's slow as he moves, gentle as he talks.

In a split second, V sees Johnny's eyes peer over his sunglasses at him. He sees a fine line of tears over his waterline. In the same second, it's gone and Johnny's trying to straighten himself out.

"No." Silverhand mutters, though it sounds almost ashamed. V can't place the unsteady tone.

"That's okay." V comforts, hands settled in his lap as he watches Johnny. Is it this again? The fuzziness, the fear, the needing... He'll sit with Johnny as long as he needs, even if his mind is wandering.

Johnny needs him. Not because he needs the body, but because he just needs someone in his corner for once. It doesn't matter that he's killing V slowly, V wants to be there. Of course he does.

To say V's not familiar with this would be a lie. Sometimes when you look close enough, the signs were there all along.

Johnny's silence, the fear so strong it passes to V, the fidgeting, the quiet voice, refusal to look V in the eye. He's acting like a scared kid. He has so many times before and V rarely picked up on it. He just fixed it like his mind screamed to.

But now they're here, they're not running. It's quiet. A moment for just the two of them. V had the time to sit and put together the pieces.

He's small.

V can recall a few details during the gig, and one where Johnny suddenly peaced out. There were files, old files and a bunch of pictures of things V doesn't want to name. When he turned back around, Johnny was gone. His presence was gone and V was alone.

It should've stood out to him. After seeing hints of so many things in Johnny's nightmares, he should've known that little kid still ached for attention—for care and love.

V was the closest, and first, person to offer that unconditionally. Johnny clung onto him, of course he did. No one else ever wanted to help like that. They left, he ran. V wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

"It's late, Johnny," V begins, "how about takeout and one of your old shows, yeah?" He glances around, pulling up a menu in his optics, leaving enough room to see Johnny. Just in case.

Johnny grumbles very quietly from the corner he tucked himself into. He rubs his eyes, sunglasses set to the side for those brown eyes to blink up at V for a moment.

"I'll get your favorite, and a treat." V raises his brows, negotiating.

That seems good enough, satisfied with a little 'yeah' from Johnny.

The apartment remains quiet as the two settle into bed with a container of Johnny's favorite takeout and a small projector with a very old show auto playing each episode.

That little stuffed animal stays in Johnny's lap, V never questions it. He doesn't have to ask to know so many things anymore. Johnny needs it, plain and simple. He doesn't want this any more than V does.

Regardless of wanting to, V will always be there. They'll find a way out of this, someone will have what they need and they'll get enough eddies to pay however much they demand.