#candy plays

The easy part was getting to the payload in the first place. With Songbird’s expert netrunner skills combined with your flawless stealth tactics, you were able to slip into the proverbial lion’s den unnoticed. You have reached the human icebox that Johnny’s body has been kept in. He’s in a steel pod fixed with a large web of wires that lead to varying monitors making a read of his vitals. He looks exactly the same as your visions; forever thirty-four with that jet black head of hair and shining steel plated arm. The clone breathes deeply into the respirator mask secured to his face. The motion of his stagnant stature is strong and serene. You almost feel bad about waking him from such a deep and dreamless slumber.

“Whoa… That’s me?” Johnny echoes in the back of your mind as he sees the very same images you’re laying your eyes on. “They even got all my scars and tats right.”

“Looks like they conducted a full scan of you, inside and out, and made an exact replica.” So Mi responds to Johnny, her additional voice in your head.

“I don’t know whether to be pissed or flattered.” Johnny scoffs, bewildered by the sight before him.

“Let’s save that talk for when we get you out of here.” You quell his concerns about the logistics and start thinking of a way to disconnect him from the system without raising the alarm “Song?”

“I am overriding the monitors.” Songbird tells you resolutely. “It will allow for a small grace period to retrieve him from the pod. After that, if the door is still open, the change in internal climate will cause a shift in readings and give away our position.”

“How small are we talking?” You request clarification so you know just how quickly you need to operate.

“Twenty-five seconds.”

“Alright, Johnny, let’s hope you’re lighter than you look.” You jokingly mutter while positioning yourself beside the pod.

“Was that a fat joke?” He antagonizes, not taking too kindly to your humorous quip.

“No, dumbass.” You chuckle. “I’m talking about all your dead weight.”

“I’ve seen you toss guys three times my size.” He argues. “Why’s dead weight an issue now?”

“I’m used to tossing guys with calcium bones. Not titanium, or whatever it is they decided to fit you with.”

“It’s carbon fiber.” Songbird clears things up for the both of you.

“No shit?” You peer into the pod and are amazed at the amount of scientific ingenuity that went into creating this synthetic vessel. “You might be lighter than me now, Johnny.”

“Hey now, don’t use this as an excuse to toss me around.” He warns.

“Don’t worry. If I were going to toss you around, I would make sure Song isn’t here.” You tell him, knowing So Mi is rolling her digital eyes at you right now.

“Yes, I would appreciate that, V.” She groans with a sigh. “Now can we please focus?”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right.” You shake your head back and forth and laugh. “Stop distracting me, Johnny.”

“You’re distracting yourself, talking about what’s in my body.” He teases.

“Shut up!” You chuckle, cheeks straining from your silly smile. “Okay Song. I’m ready.”

Milliseconds pass as Songbird’s phantom touch cuts through every obstacle and clears a path for you to work with. You hear the clamps disengage and a prominent depressurizing hiss escapes the pod with a frosty draft. “Now, V!”

You fling the door of the pod open, taken by the sight of Johnny’s bare physique unobstructed by inconsistent glitches and warped appearances. He’s so handsome, a soft expression occupying his features. You discard these self-involved thoughts and immediately pull the cords out of the nape of his neck and spine. They line his back from the base of his head with two additional conduits secured to his shoulder blades. You lift Johnny up to slump him over your shoulder, yanking each and every one of the connections out of his torso before extracting him from the pod itself. 

His limp body lies cold and lifeless on the tile floor. You Immediately pull his entire outfit you collected during your time as a merc from a duffel bag and begin dressing him. Despite this being a drone vessel, you felt the need to protect Johnny’s dignity. A soft and quiet “Thanks” emits from your consciousness, and you smile, knowing Johnny said the word so softly hoping Songbird wouldn’t be able to register his gratefulness. 

“And with a couple seconds to spare. Nice job, V.” Songbird commends you as you seal the pod back up with the locks engaging right on time.

“What now?” You ask urgently. “How do we get him out?”

“The same way you came, just with a little monkey on your back.” So Mi tells you. “I made sure it’s clear.”

“Ha-ha. My sides are splitting.” Johnny interjects after this cutesy referral.

“I can’t wait until I get to hear you do this in person.” You playfully say with a shake of your head as you hoist the synthetic body over both shoulders, securing a firm grip on his limbs as they drape over you. He actually is surprisingly light and you’re certain escape will be a breeze.

“Is that sarcasm I detect?” He challenges. “Don’t act like you don’t love the sound of my voice.”

“Sarcasm?” You respond dramatically, playing on his woes. “What are you talking about?” 

“You both are hilarious.” He gives up on the jokes and reverts his attention back to your task at hand. “By the way, what’s the plan once we make it outta this dump?”

“I have arranged anonymous transport to take V wherever she wants to go.” Songbird adds. 

“Judy.” You say with conviction while retracing your steps through the crawlspaces and air ducts. “Take me to Lizzie’s Bar to see Judy.”

“Your wish is my command.” Songbird agrees without hesitation and programs the Delamain with automatic coordinates to Lizzie’s Bar.

“Jude, are you at work? I’m en route and I could really use your help.” You urgently hail Judy on your internal comm system, wasting no time in securing a place to take this synth to.

“Anything for you, mi calabacita. But I gotta ask, what’s with the urgency?” Her voice comes through loud and clear, your eyes glowing with the mechanical activation of cybernetic communication.

“You’ll see.” You disclose to her with a tone of mystery.

The Delamain motor transport arrives in the lot of the club and Judy’s already out front expecting to receive you. Thankfully, you appear after hours so no unseemly characters are there to witness you move what appears to be a dead body, even if that body is Johnny Silverhand.

“V! ¿Qué mierda?” The shock on her face says it all. You’re momentarily ashamed to spring such a drastic situation onto her, but So Mi doesn’t have the strength to take this all on herself. This doesn’t mean Judy is your last resort. She is your saving grace. “Wait, don’t answer. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Just help me get him to the basement, please?” You request her to clear a path for you free of coworkers and staff. The fewer witnesses mean less questions and less intervention by Arasaka.

“Rita! Clear the place out! I want it empty in here for the rest of the day!” Judy gives the bouncer of the establishment the go-ahead to give everyone the boot, sending them away in an orderly fashion so that you can sneak the synthetic body in.

“Alright people! You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!” Rita Wheeler swings her neon bat around, showing everyone to the exit door. Once the remaining stragglers depart, you lift Johnny into your arms again and walk him down to the lower levels of the club. Once you make it carefully down the two small flights of steps, you are greeted with the glowing red ambiance of Judy’s server room. Clouds of vapor waft about the large, blinking pillars as tall as the ceiling. She shows you into her editing lair where she tunes her virtues, and you lay the body on one of her brain dance chairs.

“I already know what you’re about to ask me.” Judy groans begrudgingly while looking at this Silverhand replica. “You want to decrypt the core programming of the engram’s construct and download it onto the synthetic brain.”

“In so many words…” You scoff when Judy calls your bluff. “Do you think it will work?”

“In theory…” She reaches for your nape, tilting your head to see the input slot where the biochip is located. “Yes.”

“And in practice?” Johnny’s voice comes through your mind, and you repeat the phrase for Judy to answer.

“Anything could happen and either one of you could come out a vegetable.” Judy inputs an auxiliary cord directly into the synth’s neck. She conducts a quick scan and determines the probability of the digital operation. “I’d say the chances are seventy to thirty. Your favor.”

“That’s comforting.” Johnny mutters when he’s told the compromising results of Judy’s capabilities on such short notice.

“It’s okay. I trust her.” You answer audibly instead of mentally and Judy listens to the exchange you have with Johnny.

“Is he here with you right now?” She gives you a look of concern that he’s privy to everything she’s saying.

“Always is.” You confirm with a smirk.

“I can see why you want to do this. Despite the risk, I promise to try to keep you both safe to the best of my abilities.” Judy soothes both yours and Johnny’s trepidations, peering into your eyes so that he can really feel the intent behind her words. “Now, climb up on the other chair.”

You do as you’re told, and she slots a cord into your neck as well. The static contact causes an electrical shiver to crawl up your spine, but it dissipates just as quickly as it comes on. Judy sits at her desk and immediately scans you as well. With both yours and the synth’s processors integrated into her software, she can look at the coding of the engram and ascertain the compatibility of a transfer.

“You’re in luck. Arasaka didn’t skimp on his cybernetics. The neural interface behaves much like a human brain, capable of interpreting raw data so as to not overwhelm the circuits.” Judy says, typing away at her monitor. “Although, these chairs won’t do you any favors in terms of thermal regulation. I’ll have to improvise.”

“Improvise?” You ask, leaning forward in your seat a bit. 

“Relax. It’s nothing I can’t fix.” Judy winks at you, then hails Rita on her intercom. “Rita, could you bring me all the ice we have in the bar?”

“All of it?” Her response comes through the speaker.

“Yes, Rita. All of it.” Judy repeats herself patiently.

“You got it, boss.” Rita says, then after a few moments, she’s grunting down the steps with a massive crate of ice bags in tow. Judy springs to her feet to greet her before she could make it all the way into the room, saving herself the awkward explanation of why she needs all this ice. “What happened? One of your towers overheat?”

“Nah, this is more like a preventative action.” Judy hastily says, vaguely referencing some minor maintenance on one of her machines. She decides to tip Rita and send her home as well. “Thanks. That’s all for today.”

“Don’t forget to restock on ice before we open up again tonight!” Rita waves to Judy making her leisurely departure, communicating her goodbyes.

Judy acts quickly and begins stacking piles of ice bags onto Johnny’s body with an additional one fashioned as a pillow. She then does the same to you, warning about the drastic shift in temperature before proceeding. “Alright, V. It’s gonna be really cold for a little bit.”

“Just do it. I’m ready.” You steel yourself, preparing to receive the sting of the ice. The jagged corners of the cubes dig into your flesh and you’re slowly going numb from the freezing temperatures. 

Once completely covered with ice from chest to ankles, Judy places a wreath on each of your heads to help monitor your vitals. With this, Judy gains access to Johnny’s memories and the coding of his engram to effectively terminate all nonessential functions that he learned to adapt to in cyberspace but are not required for human activity. Judy deposits a pseudo copy of coding onto the implanted biochip that renders it dormant and undetectable by your immune system, blending in like a fading scar.

“Okay, you still with me, V?” She calls out to you from where she’s seated at her desk, combing through countless petabytes of data. 

“Y-yeah… Feels weird but… I’m okay.” You struggle to respond clearly, feeling drunk from the lag in your cognitive functions. 

Right when you say this, the physical world collapses and you are welcomed with the sight of cyberspace. Everything is displayed like a dim hologram, reduced to a shell of what was a physical structure of life as you knew it. You’re fading quickly, disappearing into ones and zeroes while losing the ability to speak with the only thing you’re able to hear before everything goes black is Judy shouting.

“It’s processing too fast! V! Can you hear me?!” Her voice fades behind the digital obscurity of darkness. Then all that’s left is silence. This only lasts for a few milliseconds at most as life is thrust back into you in what you perceive as an instant. You come-to, blinking through foggy eyes and tunnel vision. Judy’s face is the first you see, blurred and slowly clearing up the more you focus on her. You cough fiercely, taking massive gulps of breath into your airways when you feel the disrupting sensations of revival.

“Hey, there she is.” Judy takes the wreath off your head and pets your face, removing the shroud of hair from your eyes. “You’re alright. I’m here, V.” 

“Johnny!” To hell with your discomforts. They’re all secondary when it comes to learning the outcome of the procedure. “Where is Johnny?” 

“Right here, troublemaker.” He’s standing for the first time, albeit wobbly, walking up to you from behind Judy. “Miss me?”

“As if. I was only out for-” You pause your typical jesting quips to better assess things. For one, you’re in a fresh change of clothes and there are no longer heaping bags of ice sprawled across your form. “How long was I out for?”

“It’s been a full week today.” Judy smiles, expecting your shocking rebuttal. “Your brain has to adjust to its new normal and it does that best when it’s in sleep mode.”

“A week?!” You sit up anxiously, but Johnny calms you with his hands on your shoulders. “It-it felt like a blink to me.”

“It gave him time to gain his sea legs.” Judy boasts, tilting her head in Johnny’s direction.

“Yeah, I forgot how great it is to feel… real.” Johnny holds your hand, and savors the sensation of your physical touch, your skin against his.

“You should have seen it.” Judy humorously continues, adding a bit of fun back into the tender moment. “I had to walk him through how to breathe when the download was completed. He thought he was going to suffocate before learning how to use his new lungs!”

“Hey, when you’ve been existing in code for half a century, maybe you’ll understand.” Johnny adds in his defense.

“Jokes aside… I am so glad you’re okay.” Your voice shrinks to a level just above a whisper and Johnny thoughtfully touches his forehead to yours.

“Honestly, I was more concerned about you.” Johnny confesses. “I lost connection with you for a while, and I got worried.”

“Please. I wasn’t about to have a couple of vegetables crash out on my watch.” Judy folds her arms with confidence. “Surprisingly, the process was pretty straightforward since the engram had another place to go. Arasaka’s scans were so exact, it took no time at all for his neural pathways to reintegrate.”

“So, what you’re saying is-” You create space between yourself and Johnny, getting a good look at him.

“It’s me.” Johnny nods at you, his mouth breaking into a wide grin. “All of me.”

You compulsively throw yourself at him in a passionate embrace, sharing this warmness and even venturing to engage in your first real kiss. The weight of Johnny’s face as he collides with your lips is enchanting. You can actually thread your fingers into his hair and drag your palm against the scruff on his chin. You don’t realize you’re so overwhelmed with emotion that you forget Judy is there watching the whole thing. 

“Alright, lovebirds.” She interjects playfully. “Cut it out or I’ll have to start whacking ya with a stick.

“You tune smut BDs for a living.” You counter, sheepishly while wiping Johnny’s loving evidence from your mouth. “A little PDA should be no problem.”

“I can press pause on virtues.” She retorts with a stern arc in her brow.

“Fair enough.” You chuckle, letting go of Johnny to sit up on the edge of the chair.

“Besides, don’t act like you’re not itching to take him for a spin.” Judy instigates. “The sooner you get out of here, the better. It’s only a matter of time before the both of you are getting on like a house on fire.”

“Is that right?” Johnny turns to you, riding the high your attention gives him.

“You’re seeing things.” You lie to his face, failing at playing cool in front of Judy.

“I see how you look at him. How you look at each other. It makes me sick.” Judy pretends to gag but smiles at you knowing she’s done an incredible service.

“Thank you, Jude. Seriously. Here.” You transfer five-hundred thousand eddies directly to her personal account, both your pupils and hers illuminating through the cyber exchange.

“V. C’mon. You’re insulting me. Get that out of here.” She says, immediately transferring the eddies back.

“But I want to repay you.” You persist, not wanting to let this good deed go without attempting to break even.

“I couldn’t put a price on what you two have.” Judy glances between you and Johnny. “Wouldn’t feel right.”

“Thank you, Judy.” You pull her in for a hug and she whispers something to you that Johnny cannot make out. “For everything.”

“Just promise me you fuck him like your life depends on it.” She squeezes you tighter while murmuring in your ear before letting you go. She gives you a wink and you make a wobbly departure with the assistance of Johnny leading you up the steps.

“What did she say to you just then?” Johnny asks, supporting you with your arm around his shoulders as he helps you outside the club. 

“Uhm, she said good luck.” You give a sly shrug, making up something on the spot.

“With what?” He asks curiously.

“Beats me.” You groan slightly, still dazed from the recent wakeup. It almost resembles the grogginess of a hangover. “I just want to go home.”

“Which one?” Johnny asks in reference to your numerous properties scattered through Night City. 

“The one where we first met.”

You summon Johnny’s Porsche, and he loads you into the passenger side, reveling in the thought of driving one of his last surviving personal possessions. Speeding through the congested streets, he locates your Little China apartment, and you file into the elevator that takes you directly up to your floor. Thankfully, everyone is either brain dead on BDs or drugs, so they don’t even notice this striking Silverhand look-alike appearing in their foyer. The sliding door to your apartment opens and your cat Nibbles announces your arrival with your iguana named Moxxie watching on. He deposits you into your sleeping nook and you promptly slither beneath the covers. 

“It would be a good idea for us to eat something.” Johnny looks around your room for a local food menu to order a delivery from. “Pop-Turds and Moonchies don’t really count as grub, but it was all Judy had up there, save for the occasional Buck-A-Slice.”

“Order whatever you want.” You tell Johnny while pulling the sheets over your head. “Everything is spinning too fast for me to even think about food right now.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time. I’ll order everything on the menu at Pepper & Spice if that’s the case.”

“Go nuts. You deserve it.” You yawn; the energy slowly being drained from you. “Wake me up when it’s here. I know it usually takes forever.”

You are fast asleep not long after Johnny places the order, glancing at you to find your eyes have shut and your body is still. He takes in the serenity of your sleepiness, turning on the radio to add some white noise to your dreams. The sensation of objects within his grasp is still taking some getting used to as he walks around your living space and examines your belongings, keepsakes and evidence of his existence. He underestimates how easily this makes him feel at home in this tiny little apartment when he has lived within these very same walls with you for a long time now. 

It’s not Johnny that wakes you up, but the scent of barbecue fried rice and sweet and sour sauce. He’s at the door, taking the order from the delivery boy’s possession and engaging in his first human interaction that did not involve you or Judy. 

“Hey, you look a little familiar. Are you by chance a Silverhand impersonator?” The delivery boy asks, stricken by Johnny’s uncanny resemblance to… himself.

“Sure am, kid. You can catch me in front of the Afterlife playing Samurai covers.” He plays along, annoyedly so, but doesn’t raise suspicion.

“Preem! I’ll try to see ya! Thanks!” The delivery boy ecstatically shouts, further rousing you from your drowsiness. The nausea and headache have disappeared, and your stomach rumbles with a sudden spike in appetite. 

“Fucking dipshit.” Johnny gripes to himself while walking the loaded bags of food to your cluttered coffee table. He discards empty pizza boxes, dirty glasses and overflowing ashtrays to make room for you both to enjoy the meal comfortably. 

“Impersonator, huh?” You laugh at the hilarity of the kid’s assumption, even more at Johnny’s quick-thinking cover and flustered aggravation. “Should I start calling you Silverhand 2.0?”

“Don’t you start with that too.” He rolls his eyes at you, opening up carton after carton of appetizers, side dishes and main courses. “Are you gonna come help me eat all this or what?”

“Mmmm… It smells good.” Kicking off the covers, you inch to the edge of the nook and stand, deeply inhaling the exotic aromas as your mouth waters with the detection of savory spices and seasonings.

“That’s an understatement.” Johnny adds, reaching for a plastic tub of beef and broccoli yakisoba. Using a pair of complementary chopsticks, he picks up a morsel of synthsirloin and brings it up to his mouth, sniffing it for a few moments first and then putting it into his mouth. “I didn’t realize how badly I would miss my own sense of smell. Or even taste.”

“What other things do you miss?” You ask, digging into some rice and skewers of Tofu’d chicken.

“Oh, you know, the usual suspects like sand between my toes, wind in my hair and the way a woman’s thighs feel around my face.” Johnny discloses nonchalantly while shoveling more noodles into his mouth.

“Then why are we wasting our time eating then?” You respond, unphased by his brazen vernacular. He breaks his focus from the carton of noodles in his grasp, setting them down to be replaced with a different meal entirely. He gulps down a couple swigs of water, swishing thoroughly to help cleanse his palate. 

“The plan was for you to regain some of your strength, but I guess that nap will have to do.” Johnny closes the distance, leaning into your space as far as you will allow. He kisses you softly on the lips, then again on your chin, continuing atop your chest until he’s slipping your shirt off to sample a taste of your bare nipples. You quietly whine at the tingly euphoria, letting him explore your body as he moves to pull your pajama pants down at the waistline. You fall back into the curvature of the sofa, letting Johnny kiss you along your stomach all the way until his head is nestled comfortably between your legs. Though, before he could kiss you there, he tests the strength of his new physique and lifts you in his arms, your knees hooked over his shoulders as he walks over and slams you back down on your bed. You bounce with a flagrant jiggle of your plush assets and Johnny’s mouth is watering for them more than he was craving the food. 

“This is a good thing.” You peel his shirt off as well, revealing the perfections in him you could only catch small glances of through the digitized manifestation in your mind’s eye. “By the time we’re done, I’ll be starving for that takeout.”

“Mmmm… Say what you will, but right now I’m starving for you.” Johnny pulls your legs apart by the knees and dives in, devouring your center like it’s his last meal. His tongue slithers between your crevices, soaking you with his spittle as he spreads the mess around your thighs with his scruffy beard. You let him feast upon you, suckling on your clit without rest until you ride the waves of one long and rolling climax. His hands grip your legs, keeping them spread as he familiarizes himself with your decadent flavor. It is only after you’re so deep in the pleasure pit that he forcefully rouses you to sit up and reposition yourself on your knees, enhanced with his face beneath you. He pulls down on your thighs, crushing himself under your divine feminine weight as he aims to smother himself with your sex, continuing to devour you every second through.

You prop yourself up against the shelves and corner of the nook’s wall, riding Johnny’s face until you feel his angular, pointed nose pressing into the hypersensitive bead at the cusp of your entrance. With Johnny’s tongue never ceasing its swirling, you rock your hips back and forth to really grind yourself into his strong features. He lets out muffled moans that harmonize with your melodic mewls, rutting the air with his cock still jailed by his pants. Oh, how he wishes to just plunge deep inside you, imagining it already as he causes yet another orgasm to course through your body.

You reach behind yourself, stroking your palm against the firmness of his cock so closely confined by textile, just begging to be released. Johnny is surprised when you shift your position, turning completely around to slump over him with your face hovering above his waist. Before he could acknowledge your move, you crush him with your pussy again, nonverbally ordering him to proceed with his feast while you unwrap the gift he bears before you.

Johnny’s arms hook around your thighs again as his hands trace circles around the crest of each ass cheek. His mechanical arm is surprisingly not cold to the touch, having acclimated to a comfortable temperature against your skin. He squeezes you, alternating from one hand to the other to really play around with your curves.

While he’s occupied with his sinful banquet, he jolts at the prospect of you unbuckling his belt and pulling at the zipper of his pants. With a little help of your dexterous maneuvers, you free his rock hardness and begin vigorously stroking its length. The heat of his breath warms you up with every groan of elation and you take this as a sign to lean forward and place your mouth around the tip.

Johnny grasps your hips even tighter, really pressing you down onto his face as he kisses you off once again, one long and persistent rise up an exhilarating summit that challenges your ability to concentrate on sucking his cock. The texture of the synth skin is uncannily reminiscent of the real thing, and by the looks of it, reacts the same too. Shining, rewarding beads of moisture appear at the tip when you pull your mouth off it, evidence that Johnny’s excitement is making itself known. You lean back down to run your tongue over it, tasting the zippy tang of his precum with a frisky little twirl that finally drives Johnny mad.

Before you know it, he’s pushed himself out from under you, taken you into his grasp and laid you flat on your back against your will, not that you’d have any objections about it. The combatting forces of his metal arm in contrast with his flesh and blood excites you as he hovers above, strands of his hair tickling your brow. He holds you down, submitting you to his will as his cock slides against the sopping wet exterior of your pussy. He doesn’t drive himself in just yet, watching your face contort when he drags his veiny ridges across with absolutely no resistance.

“You already feel… better than I imagined.” Johnny stammers, moving his silver hand to intimately grasp your throat. His half-lidded eyes peer at yours with immense urgency, desperate to impale you on his fully extended and throbbing cock.

“So, you admit that you have thought about fucking me.” Both your hands clasp the arm that is pressing you into the mattress, urging him to squeeze tighter.

“Yes…” He obeys your passive command, restricting your airways until you’re left gasping for breath. He watches your face contort with shock when the swollen tip finally makes its entrance. The displacement is revolutionary as you receive him, parting your walls with such accomplished fervor. He slides in so easily and in no time, he’s slamming himself into your core. “And I consider this a dream come true.”

He doesn’t break eye contact for as long as he fucks you. As far as you can tell, you’re his stationary plaything, pleasuring him to oblivion as he unleashes himself on the first real session of love making he’s had in half a century. He gruffly exclaims obscenities at you with every thrust. Salacious, staccato whispers of swear words like fuck, goddamn, and Jesus Christ. Your jaw hangs open, mewling and moaning with his hand still clasped around your throat. He sees this as an invitation to dip his middle finger into your mouth and you promptly bite down on it, sucking it hard and provocatively with little streams of drool collecting at your chin. 

The sting of your teeth pinching his artificial nerves coupled with that delicious swirling of your tongue that Johnny likes so much, he does not realize just how effective these sensations would be in pushing him up that glorious summit. Your walls tighten around him, adding lush resistance with each drag and pull of his cock inside every time he slams his hips into you.

“V…” Johnny sighs, the pace in his thrusts slowly faltering but he tries to persist through the uncontrollable spasms and jolts of exhilaration. “Where should I-”

“Me.” You tell him through a rasp in your voice from how hard he’s got you by the throat. You don’t wish for him to release you as you can sense your own extravagant end closing in. “In me.”

Johnny was expecting to pull out and paint your breasts and midsection with his spend, but the notion of emptying himself directly into you awakens a primal necessity to fully claim you as his. He lets go of the firm grip he had on your throat at last, changing his tune and opting to chomp your jugular in a ferocious love bite. The moan that escapes you is loud and pitched at the raptors, an estuary of screams and enthusiastic vocalizations fill the air, punctuated by Johnny’s desirous grunting. 

You wrap your legs around Johnny, hooking them behind his back to further aid in the depth he’s reaching. Upon his final moves, he retracts his fangs and lifts his head up to look down at you once more. You feel the gradual stiffness inside throb and bounce with his climactic spasms just as he crashes his lips into yours again. His tongue dances behind your teeth, blending your saliva with his in lascivious unity. 

Then, it happens. The great finale arrives at last. Johnny’s mouth being pressed so forcibly to yours causes your breath to hotly swirl and cloud your faces. He takes your head in his hands, pumping so rhythmically until he succumbs to his core bodily functions, all the while never ceasing his kisses. Milliseconds fill the space between each thrust, and within these pauses you could detect a scorching heat fill you to the brim from the inside, seeping out and making a mess of the sheets.

Johnny doesn’t exit you so fast, soaking up every bit of your delicious arousal. He drags himself almost completely out, stopping at the tip and then pushing himself back inside to feel more of his cum ooze onto the bed. He breaks the kiss, propping himself up on his elbows to get a good view of your eyes. He brushes your messy hair away from your features, revealing your beautiful face for him to see. While still inside, getting softer by the second, he grows anxious as if something is weighing on his heart. 

“V, I want to tell you something.” Johnny says while catching his breath, still sliding his cock in and out of you as it slowly goes flaccid.

“And I want to listen.” You smile at him with all walls of jokes and sarcasm having been demolished.

“I think…” Johnny pauses, stroking his chrome thumb against your cheek. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

After a few weeks of domestic bliss, your perfect happily ever after is interrupted when you fall ill. This challenges Johnny’s faith in Judy’s work, fearing the worst and that the dud of a biochip has turned malignant once again, threatening to claim your life for good this time. Johnny refuses to humor the thought of living in this world without you, frantically thinking of ways to assist your suffering.

“I don’t care. I’m calling her, V. Something isn’t right.” Johnny is holding your hair back as you spill your guts into the toilet bowl tucked away beside the walk-in shower of your apartment. The cold tile is a stark contrast to your burning skin, flushed and ablaze. “What if she didn’t actually know what she was doing?”

You finish retching, wiping your mouth with a square of tissue before tossing it into the bowl, flushing the mess down. “I can’t have her thinking she hurt me, Johnny. I begged her to do this, and I am prepared to deal with the consequences.”

“Well, I’m not.” Johnny ignores your pitiful request to save face and thinks about saving your soul instead. He has Judy’s contact information saved since they formally met, immediately calling her up to troubleshoot your symptoms.

“Hey, V. How’s the honeymoon going?” Judy sounds cheerful but distorted, like something is interfering with her signal.

“It’s Johnny.” He clarifies, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh shit, sorry.” She chuckles, entertained by the mistake. “Anything I can help ya with, Johnny-boy?”

“I need to take V to see you.” He tells her sternly. “She’s sick.”

“Sick? What with? Is she okay?” Judy grows worried, but nothing about this illness would suspect that it has anything to do with her.

“I don’t know. It reminds me of the attacks the biochip was giving her.” Johnny grimaces then shifts his tone to a deeper, more serious octave. “If I come to find that it’s not deactivated…”

“Woah woah woah! Slow your roll, Silverhand. First of all, I know my work and I can promise you it’s inactive. V has only ever done right by me, and I stand to gain nothing if she’s dead. As for seeing her, I can’t. I’m not in town. I’m hundreds of miles away at my gramps.” 

“It’s okay, Jude. I can swing by Vik’s.” You interject loud enough for Judy to hear you. “Say hi to your grandparents for me.”

“V!? I’m sorry! I wish I could do more!” She shouts through the other line. “Keep me posted!”

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“Have you eaten any strange foods lately? Sampled from some exotic menus perhaps?” Viktor shines a bright, pen-sized flashlight into your eyes, analyzing their reaction to light to rule out cybernetic calibration.

“Not any different than the usual scop Night City has to offer.” You wince at the glare of the beam, squinting when Viktor concentrates it too harshly on one eye, then the other. 

“Install any new soft?” He asks while putting an icy stethoscope to your sternum. 

“No. The opposite actually. Judy managed to pacify the only virus I have.” You disclose between deep breaths, cooperating with Viktor’s examination. “Without doing that, he wouldn’t be here.”

“I see.” Viktor peers in Johnny’s direction, silent for once as his only worry right now is your well-being.

“Then in that case, he should probably head upstairs before I tell you my verdict.” Viktor addresses him through a seamless disclaimer given directly to you.

“Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of him.” You deny Viktor’s request, reaching for Johnny’s hand to hold instead.

“There’s no way I’m leaving her alone.” Johnny steps forward to further back you up.

“Alright, then how long have you two been… uh.” Viktor starts, awkwardly touching both his fists together.

“Been what?” You ask, unfamiliar with the hand signals he’s using.

“Kind of a cradle robber, this guy, huh?” Vik shields his mouth from one side in a comedic fashion, speaking to you in regard to Johnny.

“We don’t count the decades I was on ice.” He shuts down Viktor’s instigating comment, attitude shining through as he leans on his hip. “Enough bullshitting. Just give it to us straight, doc.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m a ripper, not a fucking gyno.” Viktor pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Do I gotta break it down for ya by using the birds and the bees?”

“Vik, what the hell are you talking about?” You begin to catch on, terror setting in.

“You knocked her up, wise ass.” Viktor reaches over to pat Johnny on the back. “This ain’t no flu, food poisoning or kidney stone.”

“You’re pregnant?!” Johnny shouts in surprise as if he wasn’t there when it happened.

“How is that even possible?” You collapse in on yourself, everything as you know it having shattered.

“Well, it turns out Johnny’s not only a synthetic replica, but he’s also a clone of himself. Granted, he’s mostly borg, but the basic template uses real living cells containing his own genomes. Stem cells, red, white…” Viktor’s speech gets caught on the way out, giving way to a long, awkward pause filled by an inciting clear of his throat. “Sperm.” 

“You cannot be serious.” It all begins to make sense. The sudden episodes of nausea and vomiting, the exhaustion, the powerful mood swings.

Viktor glances at you, then to Johnny, sharing a look of understanding and patience. “Your organs may be synthetic, but their contents are completely real.”

“Fuck, V. I-I didn’t know.” Johnny practically disintegrates, wrought with guilt for doing this to you.

“You couldn’t have known. Neither of us did.” You hold his hand tightly, reminded of the lustful request you made that first night together.

“What do you want to do with it?” Johnny reaches for your other hand, looking directly into your eyes with grave apprehension.

“It?” You slightly release the grip you have on Johnny’s palms as those words hit you like a pair of Gorilla Arms.

“The baby.” Johnny reiterates, the weight of his voice nearly crushing you.

“Listen, I’m no expert in this field, but a surgery is a surgery.” Viktor kindly offers to handle it for you and erase its existence. He’s like the father you never had. No judgement. No shame. Just trying to do right by you. “I can handle it now while you’re here. You’re barely coming up on four weeks. I’ll take good care of you.”

“No!” You let go of Johnny’s hands, distancing yourself from the both of them. They assumed at first you would want to discard it as any woman would in this day and age, but you’re not just any other woman. Something changed when Viktor dropped this news on you, and you’re prepared to make a decision that will forever alter the course of your life. “I’m keeping it.”

“V, you don’t have to do this for me.” Johnny urges, unsure if he’s even ready for what this entails. “But if you decide to take this leap, you won’t do it alone.”

“I know.” You look down at your stomach and smile. “I’m doing it for me.”

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Viktor asks once more so that he knows for certain which direction to take this.

“I’m sure, Vik.” You grin at him and he caresses your cheek. Despite not having your own family to help you through this journey, you have enough love here that you know this child will never want for a place to belong. “Thank you. Grandpa Vik.”

“Grandpa, huh?” Viktor rolls the title around in his head for a bit, really liking the sound of it while being taken by its foreign nature. “I gotta get used to that.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Johnny nuzzles your face, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “I never thought I’d live long enough to be called daddy.”

“You got one tough cookie here; I’ll tell ya that much. As for this grandpa business, we gotta get you some vitamins if this is gonna be the real deal. Misty!” Viktor departs up the stairs to share the big news as well as to gather all the best supplements and health tonics for you to have through the whole pregnancy as well as when you recover after. The pip in his step is mightily evident as he skips stairs in order to climb them faster.

“I bet he didn’t cheer half as much as that when he earned his boxing title.” Johnny laughs, leaning in closer to you while placing his silver hand on your stomach. 

“This is so weird. A month ago, you were still a voice in my head. Now… I’m having your kid.” 

“If there’s anything I’ve learned since getting to know you, it’s that the goalposts for ‘weird’ are always moving.” Johnny says while tracing circles around your precious tummy.

“That should make the next few months rather interesting then.” You tell him, lifting your head to reach up for a kiss.

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Viktor and Misty set you up with enough prenatals to survive the apocalypse. As the months go by, they start amassing the likes of formula, diapers, and other nesting materials. Mama Welles heard tell of the news through Misty and next thing you know, she’s coming over with tubs and tubs of clothes and toys from Jackie’s childhood she would love to see put to good use instead of collecting dust in her garage. Suddenly, the apartment you first moved into upon your arrival to Night City has been rendered far too small for your growing family. You and Johnny pick up and head out to your loft property in The Glen, a great place to make new memories.

Viktor conducts your checkups and of course will inevitably handle your labor and delivery. He’s been committed to learning all he can in this field so that you can put your health entirely in his hands and that leaves Johnny to handle everything else in between. 

The first trimester has ended, and you feel a proverbial second wind come through as you actually have more energy, and the periodic episodes of gastrointestinal upset have ceased. Though, these bothersome symptoms have been replaced by irritability, extreme cravings for certain foods and a violent aversion to others. Your days and nights lie in the fate of mealtimes, capable of being delightful periods of indulgence or absolute disasters.

“What is that smell?” You barge into the kitchenette while Johnny is in the middle of cooking some fresh stir-fry.

“It’s the stir-fry you told me to make.” Johnny rotates the wooden spoon about the wok to incorporate the flavors. “See? I think it looks pretty good.”

“Does it have the Tofu’d chicken in it?” You ask, almost wanting to cover your nose to save yourself the repulsion.

“Your favorite.” Johnny confirms, lifting the spoon to show the cubes of soy-based protein.

“I don’t think it’s Peanut’s favorite.” You say, swallowing hard to hold back a painful gag, but soon failing as you make a rush for the bathroom. “Oh God… Peanut hates it.”

Johnny removes the rice from the heat and immediately runs to dump it off the balcony. He can hear you throwing up in the other room, saddened by your unseemly reaction to one of your favorite meals. He realizes in retrospect that he probably shouldn’t have emptied a piping hot wok full of fried rice onto the street from the upper levels, but he couldn’t bear to have it in the house knowing the misery its smell causes you.

Johnny is standing at the sink, washing the dishes after the counters have already been cleaned of any and all evidence of the dinner and its ingredients. 

“Where’s the food?” You wrap your arms around him from behind.

“Fed it to the birds.” He proudly says while scrubbing. 

“Johnny!” You crane your head forward to get his attention. “You could have eaten that! I just wasn’t going to have any.”

“I could have, but don’t you feel better?” He smiles, laying his head against yours while still handling all the washing up.

You realize he has incense going, and the window is still open. He’s airing out the house while replacing the greasy scent with sandalwood and palo santo.“Oh… Yeah. I do.”

“Then we can have cereal tonight. Or graham crackers and pie filling. Or I can go down to the store and get you a slush and a bag of cheese puffs.” Johnny concludes the dishes, drying his hands to better offer himself to you. The sleeves of his sweater expose his forearms, so strong and robust.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You collect his sweater in your fists, pulling him close until he collides with your bump.

“Yes, but keep going.” He kisses you once, his lips hovering over yours. “I never want to stop hearing it.”

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“Goddammit.” You exclaim in frustration from your closet.

“What’s the matter?” Johnny is getting ready as well, combing his fingers through his hair and applying a couple dabs of cologne behind his ears in preparation of a date to visit Kerry and friends. 

“Johnny, I am about to fucking scream.” You respond, still hidden by the obscurity of standing around the corner from him.

Johnny walks into the closet, and you’re ensnared by one of your dresses. The forgiving, elastic style of fabric had you thinking you could squeeze into it but are quickly realizing that you’re far too big for one of your most favorite articles of clothing you own. The zipper on the side rests at the base of your hip, pushed down by the roundness of your stomach. There’s no way you’re going to be able to fit into this, no matter which way you try to put it on. You yank and tug on the zipper in anger, your irritability being pushed to its limits. Your breasts have increased three cup sizes, your limbs are permanently swollen and sore, and you can’t wear anything other than slippers or soft running shoes for more than twenty minutes without feeling like you want to rip everything off. “I’m a hideous fucking cow.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my wife like that.” Johnny says jovially, helping you slip out of the dress to discard on a pile with the rest.

“I don’t have anything to wear, Johnny.” You feel a breakdown coming on, unable to find the merriment in the way he speaks to you just yet, a rather annoying aspect of pregnancy you’ve had to adapt to. Things that would cause no trouble at all bother you to the ends of the Earth with no remedy in sight. “It’s all either too itchy, too hot, or too small.” 

Your hotheadedness is raising your body temperature, anger manifesting in flushed cheeks and a furrowed brow. You’re furious, but for the wreason. Sure, you could put on one of your oversized blouses and some stretchy pants, but you won’t feel your best in that. You won’t look beautiful in your eyes, despite this man always telling you differently. “I need to get out of here, Johnny.”

“The closet?” He asks, innocently.

“The house.” You explain, enraged to the point that you could punch a hole into the wall, but restrain yourself. “But not if I look like a gonkin hobo.”

“How about a compromise.” Johnny moves so that he’s flush with your body, your belly pressed against his chiseled abdomen. “I’ll call Kerry and set up a raincheck. If you can handle wearing a maternity outfit for a couple hours, I’ll take you to shop for a proper fashionable wardrobe full of things that fit and make you feel elegant.”

“No, I can’t have you do that.” You press your palm to Johnny’s chest, his strong heartbeat slowly doing the trick to soothe your cranky nerves. “We’ve rescheduled on him already twice before.”

“And I ghosted him for over fifty years once.” Johnny puts your worries down and reminds you of the truly important things while always making you feel wanted and loved. “I think he can stand to wait another day. On a better note, seeing you stand here with nothing on has me thinking we would be late to see him anyway.”

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“Wait, I don’t understand, this friend of yours was… a Spontaneous Craving Satisfaction Machine?”

“D-don’t you remember him?” You stutter through the uncontrollable stream of crocodile tears leaking from your eyes. The sting of this sob is unbearable, but you also can’t help but laugh at the silliness of your emotional outburst. “We went down to Sofsys and- and they were g-getting him ready for a m-memory wipe.”

Between speaking, you forfeit all control of the dam that holds your crying at bay. You throw your head back, a lamenting cackle throttling you from the inside. Every time you think you’ve got it all out, it starts back up again, coming back with a vengeance. Your nose burns and your eyes generate more and more water. The tightness in your throat causes every other word to get caught in your speech, leading to more interrupting sniffles as a headache slowly builds from how many times you’ve already blown your nose.

“This sounds kinda sad.” Johnny infers through your sniveling. “So… why exactly are you laughing?”

“Because it’s so funny!” Your whimpers shift to roaring laughs and back again, punishing you with stirring whiplash. “But I saw him die and that’s why it makes me so saaaaad!”

Johnny smiles beside you on the couch, pulling you closer so that you lay over him. He lets you cry on his shoulder, petting your head and giving you sweet kisses at the nape of your neck. “Why did they wipe him? Surely, he was a goldmine if so many people were using that unit.”

“He was!” You scream into his chest, howling at the misfortune of his loss. “He-he was considered to be m-monopolizing services, all for the crime of m-making friends with his c-customer-her-her-herrrs!”

“What a corpo thing to do.” Johnny shakes his head in distaste of the capitalist execution of this SCSM named Brendan. “Kill the competition.”

“The worst part was Theo.” You add, wiping your tears.

“Theo?” Johnny asks, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, softened by the sweetness in your vulnerability with him. You’re so comfortable with each other, you know he doesn’t mind seeing you this way. In fact, you are pretty sure he likes it.

“When they picked Brendan up, this girl asked me to track him down after some maintenance guy told her the bad news.” You manage to enunciate better, albeit still rattled by your own nerves to completely shake the uneasiness in your speech. “There was nothing I could do. It was like telling a widow her husband passed away.”

“So, she loved this guy? This vending machine?” Johnny suspects he must have tuned the interactions out while presiding deep in your subconscious.

“Don’t act like it’s so far-fetched.” You counter. “I might as well be in her shoes if we didn’t get this biochip mess handled.”

“How so?” Johnny wishes to know more, to really delve deep into the psychology that pains you so.

“To Theo, he saved her when she was in a low place in her life. Call it programming if you want, but he had more humanity than the average Joe walking the street.” Your lip quivers as you try to say these final declarations, giving into another incident of sobs and wails. “He was kind! And he listened! He was just trying to figure it all out like the rest of us! And- and what’s more, he was as real as you or me.”

“It’s clear this SCSM had some intricate programming. It wasn’t rudimentary, but nothing that could exceed the processing power of a truly conscious AI.” Johnny reasons, and at first you think he’s over analyzing your assertions. He presses his lips to your nose, loving how you look when you get yourself worked up. “That being said, it doesn’t account for his ability to learn and exist in society. And what is indoctrination if not programming?”

“Brendan may not have had free will as we know it, but who in Night City does anyway?” You continue, dabbing your eyes with some tissue. “I often think about if things ended differently. If he could live the life he wanted. With Theo. He talked about her every chance he got. I know he cared about her.”

“Love is powerful.” Johnny hugs you closer, stroking the crest of your stomach to invite soft kicks to tap the steel plating of his hand. “It’s the one thing that will never fade away.”

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It’s the dead of night and Johnny wakes up to find you missing from your place in bed with him. He sits up immediately, looking down into the floor below to see if he can manage to catch any sight of you to no avail.

“V?” He calls out your name, concerned. No answer. “It’s a little late for hide and seek, isn’t it?”

The loft is not expansive by any means, but there are a lot of little cubbies and crannies you could tuck yourself away into. Once he’s descended the stairs, he scans the living area and determines that it’s empty. He ventures past the elevator and looks into the clear sliding door to the armory, immediately relieved by the view of you sitting on one of the stools in there.

“What are you doing alone down here?” Johnny closes in after passing through the threshold, curious about your sudden isolation. He runs his hand along your back then the other at the side of your round stomach before taking a seat next to you. With a kiss on your crown, he realizes why you’re down here. “Ah. You’re avoiding the nightmares again.”

“I can’t have them if I don’t sleep.” You’re holding the bullet Viktor pulled from your head and fashioned into a necklace. You rub it between your thumb and index finger, sniffling to yourself as you remember the path it took to get here. All you ever wanted was the world to know that you mattered. And now, this little Peanut is your entire world with Johnny as your North Star. On one side of the coin, you were inflicted with a debilitating curse with death as the only solution, but the newfound cure has revealed that your world increased exponentially. You only hope that you don’t fail.

“Oh, V.” Johnny pulls you in with an arm over your shoulder. He’s wearing his Samurai tank top and that pair of gray sweatpants he likes so much. He smells like the bed, a sweet mixture of lavender fabric softener and earthy incense. He reaches for the necklace, but you tighten your grip on it with a close of your fist, clutching it to your chest. “Don’t look at that while you’re like this. You need to rest.”

“I earned this fighting for someone who didn’t even believe in me.” You say, reminded of the grave cost your first promising gig was and what it looked like to see your best friend take his last breaths before you ended up shot and discarded like so much trash. “Just to lose Jackie in the process.”

“There’s no easy victories in Night City, V.” Johnny nestles his head into your neck, pressing his scruffy cheek to yours like he always does, knowing it does the trick to pull you out of your mind. He looks at your growing belly, both hands dying to cradle the holy gift within. “Just the things we choose to care about.”

“Back then, all I cared about was becoming a legend and making a name for myself in this shithole.” You toss the necklace on the desk in front of you with disgust, clattering away. “But now? As far as I know, the real major-league is this family. You, Johnny.”

“I think you’ve had the thought of death in the back of your mind for too long, V.” Johnny takes you by the chin and tilts your head up to look at him. The fluorescent, blue-tinted lights shine on your soaked face absolutely streaming with tears. You avoid Johnny’s gaze all you can, but he’s remarkably coordinated in meeting your eyes at every attempt. “It’s not enough to just live. We have to lean into love, not fear.”

“But what if-” You start, your mind constantly racing with worst case scenarios, disaster outcomes and intrusive thoughts, but Johnny interrupts you from spiraling even more.

“It was you.” Johnny cuts you off, the cold steel of his mechanical hand gives you something to focus on, grounding you to him. “You taught me the freedom that comes when fear loses its ability to control us. Nothing will ever harm you two. I will protect you both with everything that I am because that’s what I care about.”

After a few moments of quiet reflection on Johnny’s words, you make a decision that’s been nagging you for months now. “I decided on a name.”

“A name?” Johnny feels a smile turn up the corners of his mouth, altering the mood from forlorn to exciting. “Well don’t keep me waiting.”

“Jackie.” You beam at him through your tears, placing your hand atop his from where it lay on your belly. “It will suit little Peanut whether they’re a girl or boy.”

Johnny can’t help but well up at the honor you’ve posthumously bestowed on your valued companion, wishing he received even a modicum of this reverence from the people closest to him when he perished all those years ago. He was too selfish to see the harmful impact he made on their lives and how it pushed them all away. This is a mistake he refuses to repeat with his future son or daughter. From this point on, he vows to never fall back on it. “Jackie it is.”

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“Alright, V. I need you to focus on breathing for me, okay?” Misty has set the mood with dim, ambient lighting and comforting candles. She’s keeping her distance, giving Johnny and Viktor primary care over your physical condition while she manages your emotional and spiritual. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

“And if you feel like you need to push, just do it. Listen to your body, not me.” Viktor is walking you through the technical process of your labor, but it’s up to you to execute it in practice. You’re on all fours, a hospital gown loosely draped over yourself to conceal your decency. Viktor managed to arrange for a birthing bed to be delivered to his clinic in anticipation for this very moment so that you are as comfortable as possible. Johnny is at your side, both his hands clutching yours as you feel the heavy rush of pressure through contractions. The seconds between each one are growing few and far between, giving you absolutely no time to recover before automated actions take over.

“I’m here, V. Squeeze my hand if you need. As hard as you can. You know I can take it.” Johnny gives you permission to administer all your might on his extremely durable prosthetic, but the pain is getting to be too much and your confidence to continue plummets.

“Johnny I- I can’t. I can’t do this. I don’t think I can do this.” The breathing patterns that Misty instructed you to implement are interrupted by gasping sobs as your anxious nerves fully take over. “I’m scared, Johnny…”

“Hey, look at me. If anyone can do this, if anyone has the strength and sheer power of will to do this, it’s you, V.” He threads his warm fingers into your hair, pressing your forehead to his for a second before continuing to speak. “I am fucking petrified, V. Absolutely shitting myself. But you know what’s getting me through it? The fact that we’re having a baby today. Our baby.”

“He’s right V.” Viktor adds a paternal air about his calming mentoring style that, when combined with Johnny’s encouragement, gives you that final bit of support you need to get through the point of no return. He’s rubbing your lower back to try and soothe your afflictions, fully prepared to catch your baby when you finally deliver it. “No one can have ‘em for you. Not to mention I’ve yet to see you shy away from a challenge.”

“You’re way stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Misty adds. “My Jackie would be so proud of you if he were here now!”

“Arrrrgh!” You growl through another ripping contraction, the pain reaching its peak. “Fuck you all for being right!”

You channel all your strength in following through with what your body is already initiating. While concentrating, you double down on the grip you have on Johnny’s hand and push as hard as you are able. All the while you’re struggling to make progress through the strain, Johnny leans into your space, petting you softly and peppering your dampened, flushed features with kisses. Gravity is your best friend as that heaviness that was once plaguing you gives way to allow your baby to finally drop. 

“Atta girl, V! I see the head!” Viktor roars triumphantly with Misty excitedly jumping up and down where she stands, watching this miracle of life unfold. 

“That’s it. Keep going, V.” Johnny says between sweet, precious smooches. “Our Peanut is almost here.”

“ARRRGHHH!” You bellow one last time, putting your heart and soul into a guttural shriek no one in your present company has ever heard you make before. The sudden emptiness brings with it the release of euphoric endorphins that soothe the shock of your delivery, replacing pain and turmoil with numbness and relief.

“Got her!” Viktor takes your baby in his arms while Johnny assists you in laying on your back. Viktor immediately places her on your chest, vigorously rubbing all the blood and excess from the surface of her skin to elicit a cry. 

“Wait, did you say her?” Johnny watches as Viktor operates quickly, realizing that it is indeed a baby girl.

“Congratulations!” Misty squeals. “You have a daughter!”

One look at you holding your newborn baby girl and it’s all over for him. Johnny is completely engulfed by pure elation. It’s at this point in time that everything disappears. That’s his whole world in front of him compressed into you and little Jackie, his girls forever and always. He moves the strands of hair from your face, really taking in the second he became a father. The cries emitting from little Jackie fill the room with her incredible presence, taking after you already. Their pitch hits Johnny’s ears in a way he never thought possible, moved by the vibrant signs of life in his darling daughter.

Viktor takes little Jackie to clean her up properly and fit her in a swaddle for her to rest in. While he does this, Johnny and Misty help clean you up and tend to any priorities following this procedure so that you have the best path to recovery. Once your dressings have been changed, a new IV has been administered and you’re lying in a clean set of sheets and clothes, Viktor wheels your baby on his medical cart he retrofitted into a bassinet, the wiggling little bundle of joy still too lively for a nap just yet. 

“You want to hold her?” Viktor asks Johnny. He breaks his attention from Viktor, exchanging looks with you as if to silently ask ‘what kind of question is that?’

“I’ve waited long enough.” Johnny’s fortitude shines brightly at his unmatched enthusiasm to take little Jackie in his arms. “Hand me my daughter.”

Johnny holds her like she’s made of porcelain, making sure his silver hand is buffered by the swaddle. He supports her head with his other palm, looking right into the face of this babbling baby. Little Jackie’s rosy cheeks are puffy and voluptuous like a cherub, truly an angel to behold. He doesn’t even attempt to hide his sentiments, letting them flow through him at full force.

“She’s got your thick, dark hair.” You say, still gathering yourself from the exhausting primal trials you just accomplished. Viktor and Misty step away to allow for you and Johnny to have this intimate time together, completely focused on little Jackie. “Look at all those luscious locks.”

You have been too wrapped up in your own anguish, you barely notice the glistening of Johnny’s waterline as his own tears threaten to spill over. Johnny buries his face in his elbow for a second, soaking them up with his sleeve. “And she’s got your eyes.”

“We did it.” You declare heartily, petting the scruff of his beard.

“You did it.” Johnny says, making the distinction of your flawless victory, his head bowing towards yours to meet you halfway for a kiss.

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The hum and drum of the AV is unsettling. The cold attitudes from the physicians at your flanks instill within you a looming sense of regret, not fully presenting itself but always lurking in the shadows. When Reed revealed the options he had for you, it felt like you would have to betray someone no matter what you chose, and here you are, fulfilling that cursed prophecy. You are motion-sick from the constant view of Night City scanning past through the open door in the hovercraft. Johnny leans against the frame, smoking a cigarette that you likewise inhale through your own lungs. The singed tobacco burns sweetly past your throat, a signature and comforting scent of his that you’ve grown very fond of.

Is your relationship with him really coming to an end? Having only entered your life for a short time, it feels like he’s been there from the start. For all these trials and tribulations, it has been just you and him. A packaged deal. Inseparable. No one else understands… You read the way Reed referred to him in his message to you, such as excising a tumor, as if Johnny is to be discarded like some kind of parasite.

Logically speaking, they’re right. His presence is causing you harm, but he is also your salvation. You feel more at home with him in your skin, and you’re certain now that he does too. It’s his voice telling you to keep going to second guess and question. Or maybe it really is just yours and the Relic is acting as designed. Regardless, it seems you’re about to find out anyway.

“Detecting strong emotions.” One of the doctors announces while analyzing the readings on his diagnostics tablet before setting it aside and retrieving a tranquilizer from his back pocket. He wastes no time in plunging the needle into your thigh, effectively numbing you instantly. “Let’s do this. We want your brain burden-free, never know how stress might affect it.”

“Think this is it, kiddo.” Johnny watches you slump into your seat, eyelids already growing heavy with your heart rate also slowing down drastically. His face is pulled down in a forceful frown, as if concentrating so hard on not shedding a single virtual tear that it causes him to wear an expression of pure wretchedness. He puts his shades back over his face in order to hide behind their obscurity, but you can still see the sorrow in his eyes.

“Guess…so.” You manage to mumble groggily, your strength slipping away by the second.

“Think we can find it in our hearts to forgive each other?” Johnny asks, but you know not what he means. You have nothing to forgive him for, except maybe a broken heart for getting so attached to someone that is killing you. However, no number of apologies in the world could ever make up for what’s about to happen to him, and you’re not sure if you’re ready to live with a debt that can’t ever be repaid.

“Yeah. I can.” There’s a pause before you ask the same in reciprocation, fearing for his answer. “You?”

“Think I can too.” His voice echoes as your consciousness fades to black, but when you wake up, you’re back in your little loft apartment in The Glen, having ended the dream before it could continue the way you remember. The entire wall of windows welcomes you with that same view of Night City you saw before passing out after a long gambling match at the Black Sapphire. Your head is in a flurry, trying to concentrate on the stability of the exposed brick enclosing you within these four walls and not the hustle and bustle of the hover vehicles zooming around outside. Still, it makes no difference, and you are left sprinting a few feet to the bathroom. You collapse, knees hitting the cold tile as you heave the entirety of your stomach’s contents into the porcelain bowl. Wiping your mouth, you pull yourself up by supporting your stance with the bathroom counter, though your muscles have atrophied with your mistreatment. Your arms tremble, elbows nearly buckling on their own before you steel yourself, splashing water on your face and swishing the foul flavors away before finishing with a shot of mouthwash. The antiseptic mint shocks your senses, burning your nose and tongue and you cough when gargling it, likewise spitting it down the drain too.

Looking into the mirror, your eyes have sunken deep with dark circles making their mark around each one. Your skin tone takes on a sickly green color and you’re already planning on spending the next few days in bed, rotting away until further notice. “Oh V…”

Johnny’s digitized appearance manifests behind you. He steps closer in an attempt to caress you with his phantom touch, but you swiftly turn around and walk through his pixelated form, ignoring him to return to bed.

“Don’t you think we should talk about this?” Johnny pops up at the foot of your bed, the glaring sunbeams break up his holographic projection, bleeding reality back into your fantasy. The ultraviolet warmth sears into your retinas and makes your head pound even more as the splitting pain throbs. Impulsively, you search for the only numbing agent within reach, yet another bottle of acerbic spirits. You don’t see him, but you can feel Johnny shake his head in judgment of your actions. “V, please.”

“What’s there tuh talk ‘bout?” You rhetorically ask, slurring between swigs of alcohol as each drink masks your oppressive symptoms resulting from prolonged misuse of the substances around you. Red and blue pill bottles are tipped over, scattering both the omega-blockers and pseuds across your bedside and counter space. When Johnny would get a little too vocal you would pop one, but when you started getting bored, you’d pop its counterpart to bring him back. Doing it this way always caused a rather violent episode of seizures, so you numb those senses with copious amounts of alcohol. So far, the system has been working and you’ve been essentially brain dead this entire time. 

“Well, the fact that you haven’t put anything in your pie-hole that wasn’t paint thinner for the past week and a half is a start.” Johnny takes a seat on the plush edge, his steel grasp reaching for your bare calf, but you block his touch and cover yourself with a thin duvet. He doesn’t understand why you’ve grown so distant, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to get through to you. “A bender like this can’t last. Trust me, I should know.”

“Fuck off... ’m juss gettin’ started.” You say through half lidded pupils, suddenly noticing Johnny turn blurry and then duplicate before you start to pass out again. Johnny rolls his eyes when you stretch an arm towards your nightstand and pop a couple more pills, one of each red and blue this time, chasing them with more gulps. “I’ve better things to do ‘n listen to you chew m’ear off.”

“Fine V. I’ll let you rest.” Johnny stands, his fists clenching at his sides before he departs, angrily making his way down the stairs. Despite him being a figment of your imagination, you can still sense his fading footsteps descending, but you lose consciousness in the few seconds before he reaches the bottom.

Johnny noticed you really didn’t look well coming out of the bathroom. The sensations he shares with your combined neural systems frighten him. The splitting headache, constant nausea, if he had guts to spill then he definitely would ten times over. He watches you sleep while sitting on the recliner in your elevated book nook, monitoring you to ensure that your breathing doesn’t stop or to be there if you start thrashing again while also respecting your space. He sits with his arms crossed, scanning you like a hawk with his eyes trained on your rising and falling chest.

Though, you only rest somewhat peacefully for about half an hour. The droning and slow-moving time allows Johnny to slip into a false sense of confidence that you’re just sleeping. He becomes distracted by his own plaguing thoughts, taking his eyes off you for a moment too long to cradle his face in his hands to express his frustration.

It is only when he hears you gurgling and gagging that he lifts his gaze. “V!”

He stands in an instant, simultaneously teleporting over to your bedside within the same second to fight for control within your own body. Your brain fires off the neurotransmitters, yet he is the one hijacking your motor functions. You’re lying on your back with foamy spittle bubbling up and blocking your airways. Johnny battles with the dead weight of your torso in order to turn you on your side. “C’mon, V! Work with me here!”

The struggle requires every modicum of his might. Johnny finds himself on the edge of a rageful whimper when your choking becomes more violent. The excess leakage spills from your nose and mouth and soaks your pillow, drenches spots of your hair. “Fuck! Please don’t do this to me! V!”

You’re worse for wear and declining by the second. Empty glasses and bottles littering your apartment mirror your empty stare as you tried your hardest to outrun your history. You fought like hell for this life, yet one bad decision could wash it all away before you even know what hit you. In the end, it’s no mystery that you’ve no one to thank but yourself. Maybe your ambitions were too high and unachievable. Maybe you were never cut out for this to begin with. 

You’ve lost control again, sinking so far deep into yourself and Johnny cannot bear to witness you drown. He finally manages to shift your palm flat on the mattress beneath you, pushing you up like his life depends on it. Your face drifts to the left and all toxic contents fall to the floor and your airways are finally clear. Johnny heaves a breath of relief as he manifests outside of you now, kneeling at your bedside to bestow his apparitional touch on your despairing features. He brushes the hair out of your face and ensures your mouth is emptied. “Dammit V… Why are you doing this to yourself?”

You say nothing, knocked out cold and completely unaware that Johnny saved you once more. He dares not to think about what would have happened if you were truly alone - if he weren’t here with you. “V don’t give up on me today. I never beg but…”

“Khe…khe-khe .” You cough a few times, waking yourself up to the unpleasant sensation of your nostrils and throat ablaze even worse than before. The trails of moisture dripping down your chin are irritating and itchy. You wipe it clean with the tissues on your nightstand and are actually astonished by how much cleaning there is to do. The more you look around, the more mess you find. All signs point to the small patch of darkened carpet where the majority of the sick landed. “ Eugh… What the fuck?”

You make the walk of shame to the shower, depositing your soiled clothes and sheets into a hamper before activating one of your automated carpet-cleaning bots to tackle the remnants you left on the floor. With both hands against the tile wall, you focus incredibly hard on trying to get the room to stop swirling. Once cleaned off, you change into a new set of pajama shorts and tank top before making your way downstairs. The window shades are closed with the push of a button, and it immediately soothes the throbbing in your skull. Once in your kitchen, there rests of course the usual assortment of intoxicants, save for a pristine and unopened bottle of mineral water. 

When making a move for the Centzon tequila, something happens and you miscalculate the aim of your arm, finding yourself grasping at the neck of the bottle of water. You let go of it, shaking the stiffness out of your hand and recoiling it against your chest. Using the other one, you make a second attempt but end up with the same result. “Johnny, I know that’s you! Cut it out!”

The noise of choppy interference resounds, and Johnny’s binary body solidifies to the left of you. He gets in between you and the counter, pushing you aside and back into the living area of the loft. Unbalanced and weak, you’re unable to even fend off your own subconscious as Johnny’s maneuvering leads you to the set of couches where you fall seated. “I’ll cut it out when you stop trying to kill yourself.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You scoff at him.

“You know what I am talking about.” Johnny is fuming, yet his speech is steady and intentional. He’s never spoken to you this way and it’s the first time you actually register that your violent avoidance might be hurting him too. “I noticed you actually took a shower today.”

A shivering chill rattles your spine when a droplet of water falls from the tips of your still-damp hair and soaks into your shirt. “I drooled in my sleep. So, what.”

Johnny shakes his head and folds his arms, turning around to face away from you as if doing all he can to contain his temper. “V, if I wasn’t here, you would be dead right now.”

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to keep reminding me.” You blow him off, crossing your legs as you think he’s referencing the fateful mission that cost you your sanity as well as the life of one Jackie Welles.

“No, V.” Johnny doesn’t turn around, an odd move to remain speaking to you from afar when he has had no qualms with getting in your face in the past. “Just now. I almost lost you.”

“You gonk, stop fucking with me.” The dismissal of his words is instinctive at this point, yet you feel no remorse for the venom you deliver unto him.

Johnny turns around at last. He locks his stare with yours and you notice a glimmering layer sparkling in his eyes. You double take and confirm it’s there, letting your guard down bit by bit to hear him out. “You overdid it on the pills, alright? I assumed control and flipped us over.”

To say the silence is deafening would be an understatement. Johnny almost lost his composure, a hair away from breaking down in front of you, but he’s still fighting. He only hopes you will fight with him.

“Should have just let me die…” You remark to him, defeated.

“Is that what you really want?” He asks, advancing closer with the inflections in his speech becoming more animated. “Are you saying I acted against your wishes?”

“Don’t try and tell me you didn’t do it for your own selfish reasons of having a second chance at a life.” You growl back at him. “My life!”

“It was never about me, V. Always you. Always.” Johnny softens, stepping closer and leaning over your angered form on the couch. He’s hovering over you with both his hands on the supporting structure, encasing you. He is reminded that he used to walk this very same line. Speaking from experience, he knows that you’re probably thinking he doesn’t care about you one bit. All the good and bad you do make no difference when the devil’s price still requires a soul. “Now seriously, tell me what’s going on with you.”

“We either go the ‘Saka route and risk our lives, I call up some friends and risk their lives, or I call Reed and schedule the surgery. Risking… your life.” Johnny cannot experience your dreams with you, only conscious thought and memories. You hid its recurrence from him until now, still having not decided which path you should take. “And to be honest, I don’t want to do any of it.”

Johnny kneels, keeping you trapped in the plush cubicle while dialing his urgency back a bit to communicate that he's coming from a place of concern. This gives you space while keeping an intimate distance to continue this difficult conversation. “I-I’m lost, Johnny. If I can’t even save myself, how the hell am I expected to save you?”

"Who said you have to save me?" Johnny's voice softens at this sentiment. You're dying and you still crave self-sacrifice in order to give him a second chance.

"I know it's what you want." You confess, and Johnny deflates at your answer.

"It doesn't matter what I want." Johnny drops his gaze, nods and lets out a sigh. “Out of all of those, just… Don’t make the call to Reed. We’ll find another way.”

“What did you say?” You ask, baffled by the familiarity of his statement.

“Say what?” Johnny retorts, confused.

“Repeat what you just said.”

“Don’t make the call to Reed?” 

You become lost in thought as this cryptic deja-vu lets itself be known. “This is how it started”

“What started?”

“My dream.” You confirm. “This morning.”

“Oh, so that’s what made you all pissy.” Johnny assumes playfully, hoping this spurt of humor will make you smile.

“Shut up.” You chuckle. His perfectly placed funnies bring you further out of your head and you actually like the way it feels when he’s so close, making you laugh again.

“What happened in the dream?” Johnny wonders, pleased to see you smiling but he watches as it fades fast while you recount fragments of your visions.

“You asked me not to call Reed, but I did anyway. I was in an AV that he sent. There were two doctors. You asked me to… open the door to let you see NC one last time.” You feel the warmth of a single tear fall and stain your cheek.

“Before I got wiped.” Johnny lets his head hang slightly. “Is that it?”

Nodding in remorseful grief, you continue with a slight tremble in your speech. “I woke up from a coma two years later with Reed pushing an FIA desk position down my throat, I guess as a sorry for fucking up my life? Couldn’t use my chrome anymore. Lost all my friends. My apartments. Rogue ended up with my cat, so that was one good thing at least. I don’t know where my Iguana went… It’s probably dead. And at the end of it all, I was just… a nobody. I couldn’t even defend myself against a couple gutter rats on the street.”

Johnny climbs atop the couch and pulls you into his space. “Hey, V. Look at me.”

His finger lifts your chin and you feel him slowly meet your gaze with his. Despite his movements, you’re still staring at the floor, stubbornly denying him what he’s asking. “Please, I want to see your eyes.”

You finally do what he asks, tears falling as your mind lingers on the thought of him being erased from your mind. This is exactly what you were trying to avoid, yet you’re currently being thrust into facing your fears head on. You can’t stand for Johnny to see you in this light, but according to what he had revealed to you moments prior, not even an OD is enough to scare him away. You venture to think it’s about time you start believing him if you’re struggling to have faith in yourself. “I’m sorry, Johnny… I’m just so messed up.”

“No, V. I think you’re even more beautiful.” Johnny knows exactly what to say to pull you out of your episodes of despondency. You curse yourself, wondering why you were so petrified of this confrontation when his patience and tenderness actively begins healing you from within. “It was just a dream. And you’re not a nobody. You mean more to me than you probably know.”

Johnny’s finger on your chin moves and his whole palm is laid atop the length of your cheek. He strokes you softly and the heat of his skin actually radiates to yours. He lightly brushes his lips against yours. The stubble on his face pokes you, but you are eager to feel the sting. He can sense you wanting to continue, to push your limits, but he helps you shelve that idea for later knowing it would be just another distraction. By pulling away and pushing you back into your seat, you read his message loud and clear and stop instigating when you realize he has more to say. “You’re everything, V. All that I am and all that I’m too scared to be.”

“Johnny…”

“Don’t. Just listen for a sec.” Johnny gathers himself, preparing his lines so that he doesn’t stumble over his words or deliver something abrasive when he doesn’t mean it. “You’re so focused on what everyone else wants, have you even considered what you want?”

Regardless of what happens, you don’t want to lose Johnny. Your unique predicament makes you nothing but a money-making opportunity to some, an obligation to others, and a science experiment to the rest. Their empty souls are bleeding you and Johnny dry just for fun. People of power spew lies, lying in wait amidst deeper waters as they smell your fear like a drop of blood in the Pacifica ocean. If you were to snuff out your own lights, you’d be giving up before you even tried, though you want only to be saved from yourself, from this Hell and from this consequence. 

“You, Johnny.” You sniffle. “All I want is you. The rest could burn for all I care.”

Johnny lets you relax with your head on his chest, him resting his scratchy chin on you. His torso rattles with a smitten laugh and he continues to pet your hair, glad to know you still have that fiery spirit of yours. “Say you told the FIA to stick their offer where the sun don’t shine. Where does that leave us?”

“It certainly doesn’t put us in that AV, I’ll tell you that much.” You confidently confirm to Johnny, he kisses you again. His closeness disarms you, still somehow able to make you nervous even after all this time. Your heart races, or maybe that’s his. Johnny holds you tightly, planting more kisses atop your head. Your accumulated anxiety has begun to dissipate, and you actually start feeling better. He is the grounded shore, and you are the turbulent waves breaking and crashes against him. You have the power to erode him to nothing, to shatter his foundation and leave him in ruins, but he withstands your force while giving you a safe place to land every time. “Johnny?”

“Mhm?” He responds, opening his eyes and craning his head towards you.

You kiss him this time, holding it for a few seconds longer than the ones before. You melt into each other while riding the waves of this cozy excitement as they come. “Is it okay if I say that… I love you?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Johnny presses his forehead to yours, his locks of hair meeting your own fringe. “I’ve loved you for a long time now, V.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s been one hell of a shit day. Actually, it’s been quite a few shit weeks since V earned her own official Hog’s Tooth; a bullet with her name on it pulled from her shell of a skull, now secured to a chain around her neck. The analog of V’s heart flat-lined and this new digitized psyche has found her body to accommodate for its needs. Unto V, a revolutionary program was bestowed. A virus, far from holy, overwriting her genetic code. At times, she thinks back to how easy it would have been to just stay dead, but this little friend in her consciousness had some unfinished business to settle that will hopefully in turn help her in the long run.

Finally back at V’s apartment after running herself ragged accomplishing tasks for fixer after fixer in a desperate attempt to find a solution to her terminal condition, she strips her bruised limbs of clothing and stumbles into the walk-in shower. The water is hard and abrasive, words one typically wouldn’t use when describing something so yielding. Living here in Night City, it’s impossible to hide the impact pollution consistently plays on the environment. The collective populace suffers from lobotomized souls with a charged and amplified culture, retreating to screens and brain dances so as to not bear witness to the tarnished underbelly of reality. V’s sore skin is ever tenderized with the fierce water pressure and she walks out feeling worse than when she went in. Grumbling to herself, she continues the few steps it takes to plop onto the bed.

Nibbles is fast asleep in the laundry basket on the floor nearby, purring to herself. Looking at her reminds V to be thankful that she’s alive. At least one good thing came of it. She got to rescue her. As for V, she’ll have to be her own hero.

Discarding the dampened towel, she tosses it aside and replaces the cool fabric with the warmth of her sheets. Her chilled palms skate across her torso beneath the covers and V feels the tension she’s been plagued with release little by little. Segments of her spine subtly snap into place the more she’s breathing into the relief, the sharp pangs surrounding her heart have died down and V no longer feels like she’s on the verge of a spontaneous myocardial infarction.

Her dominant hand slips between her thighs and V familiarizes herself with all the different sensations she’s been deprived of through this trying time. She’s been so focused on not dying, she’s neglected what little pleasure she can afford herself. 

Her method of operation has remained the same to garner maximum gratuity while keeping efficiency and time in mind. Strong, consistent pressure and titillation ensures V will be climaxing in a manner of seconds. That inner summit approaches as all four limbs clench and writhe atop the bed. The fluttering afterglow and rapid breathing bring on the blissful ecstasy as she rides through the waves, turning over on her side and succumbing to the hypnosis of sleep as it ultimately approaches.

“Come on. Don’t tell me that’s all you got.” That antagonizing delusion remarks, manifesting in the corner of V’s sleeping nook. His phantom presence doesn’t indicate a weight on the bed, but the physicality of his nudge on her foot suggests something different.

“Goddamnit, Johnny. Can’t you give me some privacy?”

“I didn’t pop up in the shower now, did I?”

“I don’t even want to humor the idea of what you would do to me in the shower.”

“Have a lot more fun than you, that’s for sure.”

“Are you going to let me sleep or not?”

“Only if you swear not to put on that pathetic display again. It’s disgraceful. Jesus Christ, I know you’re dying but I bet you even fuck like a corpse.”

“This is getting fucking old, Johnny. Please, go away.” V begs.

“Nowhere else for me to go, genius. Relic is still keeping your lights on, remember?” Johnny taps his glitching hairline and V takes notice of his lack of eyewear in this encounter.

V lets out an angry sigh, covering her face with her blankets but she can still feel the annoying presence in the corner of her sleeping nook, only, it seems like it’s getting closer.

Pulling the cloth out of the front of her eyes, she is startled to see that Johnny has closed the distance and is now barely inches away. His dog tags jingle against her chest as he hovers closely above her and she’s confused on how she’s able to detect the feather-light sensation. He’s an illusion. A figment of her imagination. Yet, why does she feel so deliciously cornered by a ghost?

“I’m about to grab the fucking omega blockers if you don’t get out of my face right now, Johnny.” She relies on the stern delivery of her voice to make him second guess his actions, but Johnny knows more than V would ever care to let on.

“See that. You’re tense. I can feel it V. You know I can. You can’t hide it when we’re one and the same.”

“First of all, we’re nothing alike. Second, I’m tense because your gonk ass won’t leave me be.” Regardless of the assertion in her voice, Johnny notices that her pulse is thundering relentlessly as if the blood is rushing through his own veins.

“Look, take the blockers. I won’t stop you.” Johnny reaches over to retrieve the pill bottle, stretching and straining across V’s form and she’s able to make out incredible details she never noticed before in his holographic portrayal. His tactical vest has some fraying threads V has the impulse to yank on but denies herself the satisfaction, studying his subtly scarred features and grime textured skin. He’s back in front of her, eyes locked with his and she suppresses the thoughts of wanting to know what that scruffy chin would feel like pressed against her own. “All I'm saying is that we could really help each other out.”

“How?” V feigns speculation, knowing exactly what his plans entail but she’s overly eager to hear him say the precious words.

“Don’t make me spell it out.” Johnny sighs and V can actually detect notes of slightly stale tobacco and sandalwood with undertones of exhaustive musk. She gulps when Johnny sets the pill bottle on the wafer thin sheet separating her still damp nakedness and his spectral physicality. “You act like I haven’t had to endure every one of your shit weeks by proxy right along with you. We’re both a little on edge.”

V softens when he calls her bluff, pursing her bottom lip and apologizing to him with her eyes, swiftly changing her expression from submissive doe to reluctantly unimpressed. “I’m not your output, Johnny.”

“I’m not saying you are.” He insists.

“What are you saying then?”

“Just… let me help you really get to sleep.” Johnny adjusts on his knees, laying beside V on the bed now propped up by his elbow.

“How is this even going to work?” V buries her palm into her face thinking about how insane she must look having a legitimate conversation about fucking herself.

“How the fuck should I know.” Johnny shrugs. “I just figured we’d wing it.”

“So, you’re admitting you’ve thought this out?” V removes her palm from her face to gawk at Johnny’s brash idea.

“What do you want me to say? I’m not blind, V.” He confesses, pausing for a beat to flicker his eyes down to the hem of the blanket doing a sorry job of concealing her breasts. She loves hearing him talk. Loves it even more when he’s annoyed about having to explain himself so thoroughly. “I’d be psycho not to have the idea pass through my head.”

“Gee… Thanks.” V fretted, pulling the covers up to her shoulders to impersonate taking offense.

“You know what I mean.” Johnny lays a hand on her stomach and she engages her core, preparing for his touch as she would with anyone else and… it’s unbelievably unexpected; she can really feel him.

“N-no, I don’t think I do.” She hinted, imploring for him to continue.

“I’m sorry.” Johnny dips his head and lets his black waves settle on her shoulder. The wisps of his hair tickles her skin and his head is firm, pressed against her. “That was insensitive.” He mutters into her chest.

“Hold on, let me just have a second to relish the fact that Johnny Silverhand just apologized to me.” She raises a hand above Johny’s projection. In her mind, she anticipated resting it on his head in acceptance of his apology and is crestfallen at the thought of it passing straight through him, except it doesn’t. “You have a heart after all.” She adds as she begins to run her fingers through his tangled hair.

“That’s not all I have.” He says, readjusting his face and testing her skin with a kiss “I see how people look at you. Like they can't decide if they want to kill you or fuck the ground you walk on. It’s awful lonely in the back of your head when everyone else gets all your attention."

V actually feels what he's doing to her and it boggles her perception of reality for a second. She’s able to see clearly through him, but the hallucinatory projections are too powerful to ignore. Johnny notices the shift in her demeanor as well, rearing back and looking at her more closely. His eyes are the darkest shade of brown but still glimmering with life from the few rays of sun shining through her open apartment window. “Did you… feel that?”

“I… I think I did.” V gasps in disbelief. “I’ve been feeling everything.”

“How about this?” Johnny uses his modified arm to rub circles across V’s naked abdomen. She’s covered by nothing but the blanket, but the rigid stiffness of his mechanical arm digs into her sore skin and fatigued muscles beneath. The weight displacement of his limb on her torso itself is so distinct, she could have sworn she could hear the creaky springs shuffle against themselves deep in her mattress.

“I think your plates are pinching me…” V whispers between stifled moans when her skin gets caught in the creases of Johnny’s silver hand.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” Johnny releases some of the pressure he was inflicting on V but she stops his hand from straying too far, placing it back down on her abdomen. 

“Move the blanket.” She orders him plainly and Johnny obliges, snagging the fabric between his middle finger and thumb to seductively pull it down at an excruciatingly slow pace. V’s body is slowly getting exposed inch by breathtaking inch. Johnny grieves her bruises and abrasions littered throughout every bit of already heavily scarred skin. Even though he’s walking the same steps as V, she’s the one who has to roll with the punches. Many of which have managed to even ring Johnny’s bell a few times.

“You say we’re nothing alike, but have you forgotten there was a time in my own life where I was constantly black and blue too?” Johnny uses his silver hand to trace V’s brow, trailing down her face, then to her chin as he follows the contours of every hill and valley in its wake.

“How could I forget? You never stop talking about it.” The coldness of steel against her chest and stomach is thrilling. She impulsively fed Johnny more sass to see what else she could make him do to her.

“I know you love my old war stories.”

“Maybe I’m just a history buff entertaining an old man.”

“Old man?” Johnny fiercely grasps V by her throat before scoffing at her half-cocked insult. She closes her lids and loses herself in the constriction, pleased that her plan is working. “I’m forever thirty-four, wise ass. That extra half century doesn’t count.”

Johnny sees V’s lips curl up at the creases, lashes fluttering over her glossy krioshi eyes. Testing her vigor, he generously tightens the grip he has around her neck, compressing the columns of muscle while leaving her windpipe unscathed as she gasps for breath. With the apples of her face flushed, Johnny leans in and takes advantage of her parted lips.

His facial hair collides with her smooth features first, pricking her on the ends of his wiry beard followed by his surprisingly warm mouth. The subtle clouds of breath that befell her face before have intensified the more she focuses on him. She’s starved for breath and Johnny just won’t let up, roughly kissing her, battling with her tongue until her face is practically numb from the friction.

Just when the pressure in her head feels like her capillaries are about to burst, Johnny releases his hold and transitions to gentle grazes of his knuckles against her cheek to finally allow V to drink him in. “Fuck… Why am I light headed?”

V coughs, clears her throat. “Don’t tell me.” 

They speculatively stare at each other for a few beats too long. V can’t tell if she’s dreaming or just a flat-out schizo. Johnny takes one of his illusionary hands off the bed and reaches for the zipper at the top of his vest, pulling it downward. The crunchy metal on metal emits the slightest vibrations against her chest, she gasps when it grows a little too concentrated near her nipples. Johnny sees that she can sense his garment as if it were bestowed upon her very person and takes his time, studying her reactions to his every move.

With his vest now left ajar, V reaches up and presses her hands against his skin. It’s unfathomable what’s happening and Johnny releases a constricted moan and flinches minutely when V’s ice cold hands come in contact with him. “Fuck! You’re freezing, V!”

“What do you expect? My hair is still wet.” She closes her fists and puts them back at her sides, undermined by the faults of her body once again, but Johnny doesn’t shy away. 

“No, it felt good…” Johnny surrenders his weight fully onto V after discarding his vest to the corner of the sleeping nook and reaches for both of her hands to hold. He begins breathing his own breath into them, warming them up with his mirage of heat. “It made me feel alive. Just startling, is all.”

“That makes one of us.” V disagrees, holding contempt for the rigidness in her limbs that only reminds her of the sordid fate she’s sure to meet. Since flatlining, she’s always had trouble regulating her core temperature and relents the thought of being considered a walking cadaver.

“What I said before, you know I was only teasing.”

“I don’t mind your teasing, Johnny.”

“Then what is it?”

V looks at her hands, still clasped tightly in Johnny’s and thinks diligently on how to explain. “My whole life, it felt like I was just coasting from one place to the next. To the next gig. The next town. The next payout.” She breathes deeply, taking a leap to lightly kiss Johnny’s knuckles. “That all changed when you came into my life. I know I’m not long for this world if we can’t find a cure, but in the same breath I don’t know if I am strong enough to give you up for the sake of living another few decades.”

“V, I had my life and fucked it up beyond repair. I don’t deserve to fuck yours up too.” Still holding her hands, Johnny presses them to the thick, bearded patch across his cheek. 

“Just a shitty position to be in, this.” How dystopian of a world V lives in where she wrestles with having fallen for the ethereal vestiges of a person.

“I know.” Johnny begins, interrupting his own speech to gently kiss her forehead, breathing in the scent of her clean hair, fragrant with notes of juniper and sage. Nothing else needs to be said. V knows deep in heart that Johnny understands, for their hearts are one and the same.

That overwhelming concentration from before awakens once again as Johnny hurriedly slips out of his form-fitting leather pants and under the blanket with V. She welcomes him to lay beside her, already eager to fondle him as she likewise capitulates. Johnny grows fast as she strokes him with her dominant hand, resting her head on his firm shoulder. Johnny has a hand between her thighs and has found himself falling back into his flawless modus operandi. Either he’s a natural or he’s learned a thing or two in the time she’s gotten herself off with him sitting in the back of V’s psyche. Regardless, she’s gasping and pleading in no time while Johnny also suffers the sensations he inflicts upon her in tandem with the things V is doing to him.

Just when V feels like she’s about to cross the point of no return, Johnny ceases his titillations and she groans louder than she has through the whole engagement, fully announcing her displeasure of not taking things further when she desperately needs it. 

“Why did you stop?” She whines.

“V… If I am going to last longer than a few seconds, you can’t be doing that.”

“Doing what?” She bites her lip, obstructing her deviant smile.

“You know what.” Johnny insinuates, unable to bring himself to confess it.

“You mean, when I-” V makes an explosion motion with her hands, “you will too?”

Johnny nods.

“Every time?”

He nods again, but instead of this being a downfall of this exchange, Johnny aims to use it to his advantage. He settles beside her again, restarting the motions and within seconds they’re a panting, shuddering mess. As if perfectly on cue, V feels the overwhelmingly strong urge of will Johnny has within her and he does not allow her to take herself fully to climax, releasing the pressure and momentum to dissipate into fleeting bliss. V’s core engages with brutal spasms when she’s denied once again. They keep at this, climbing that summit over and over until they reach the cusp only to descend the whole way back from once they came. 

Switching things up, V releases the hold she has on Johnny and silently implores him to stroke himself. She takes over pleasuring herself in turn to experiment with this veil of control. Each time the blooming glory from within would rise, she would watch as Johnny’s limbs would flex and contract just as hers with the pumping of his fist. He’s so shamelessly sexy, fucking his own hand while imagining it is hers. Despite their hands nowhere near one another, they can still tell where his calloused palms end and hers begin. She’s focused too much on Johnny’s stimulation, it slips her mind that this is supposed to be unfruitful and nearly pushes him over the edge. His face contorts with a grimace, releasing the hold he has on himself to reach for V’s wrists, denying her with a seriousness. “I told you what would happen, V.”

“Are you going to punish me now for not disobeying, Johnny?” V has already been suffering so many unfulfilled ends, but this assertive side to Johnny is so enticing, she needs to have more.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Johnny boasts, acknowledging V’s penchant for pain. She looks at him with an exhilarated sparkle in her eye in anticipation for what he plans to do. With her wrists still caught in his grasp, he buries his face into her neck and bites down hard; hard enough to earn a surprised yelp. He litters her skin with markings, stopping between her breasts to give them rough suckles and bites as well. He follows the path of her abdomen to the space between her legs and parts them forcibly while keeping stern eye contact. He’s bare naked, erect and only inches away from her entrance and she longs for nothing more than Johnny to push himself inside, but he does everything but. 

“I thought you were supposed to help me get to sleep, now you’re sabotaging it?” V taunts.

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Johnny smirks.

“You’re no better than my sleep paralysis demon.” V mocks, yearning to eat her words.

He drives one of his sleek fingers into her, swirling it around and watching her squirm as he contemplates if she deserves the real thing just yet. Lost in sinful thought, he pulls the finger out of her and samples her taste. V licks her lips when the flavor manifests within her own mouth according to Johnny’s plan. She swallows her own sweetness as he dives headfirst into her, stomach dropping and heart thumping at the awareness of these lascivious acts being shared through a first-person perspective.

His tongue shuffles between her most sensitive and intimate areas, compensating for her lack of repetitive orgasms with his own viscous spittle as he hungrily devours her. But just as before, he keeps this torturous game alive by getting her so close then stopping short of the finish line every time. Each time Johnny does it, it is a dangerous game, winning each time as his own breath falters, heaving hotly all over her.

V runs her fingers through the tangled length of his hair, then clenches her fist around a fistful of his locks. The prickling sting of her action forms upon her own scalp and she squeezes even tighter. Johnny stops kissing her off and turns to the sensitive meat of her inner thighs and chomps down. He growls deeply into the bite, sharing the abrupt agony with V before she lets go of his hair.

“Only I get to do that.” Johnny commands between another merciless bite to put her in her place. “Got it?”

V nods wildly, submitting to Johnny’s stipulations while hoping he bites her again, but he leaves her sore skin cold and wanting while claimed by his saliva.

Instead, he takes himself in his hand again and V loses herself in the chaste waves of Johnny’s self-inflicted delight. Slathering himself up by the tip, V closes her legs to selfishly gain more surface contact but Johnny pries them open with a vengeance, shaking his head with a tsk when she obscures her face from his view. 

“You just love being scolded, don’t you?” Johnny mutters under his breath as he slides into V, only just a little bit. Not enough for her tastes as she shimmies in place, struggling to gain any amount of purchase from him but finding nothing. Johnny keeps one hand on himself for proper control while reaching for V’s neck with the mechanical other. She points her chin to the ceiling, readily accepting her discipline. Johnny remembers what happened the last time he put his hand around her throat and is careful not to incapacitate himself while still pushing his own limits. 

He utters fervid exclamations in time with V, constricting his own airways as well as hers. With each conjoined breath he drives himself further and further until he’s nothing left to give. V clenches around him, rolling her hips to feel more of him but Johnny keeps her firmly pinned in place, grinning at yet another chance to deny her what she wants.

Johnny keeps the same tormenting, tantalizing pace, pulling himself all the way out, stopping for a handful of excruciating seconds, then powerfully propelling himself back in. V fidgets when he interrupts their mutual continuation to gather himself as maintaining his focus is becoming increasingly challenging, possessed by their dovetailed nervous systems.

“Why m-must you go so goddamn slow…?” V begs through a whisper, squeezing the hand Johnny is using to pin her by the throat.

“You haven’t earned it yet.” Letting her breathe, Johnny offers a sarcastic rebuttal through slurred words, getting drunk off V’s neediness. He speaks to her as if he’s pissed off, annoyed with a twinge of distaste like it’s a chore for him to be here right now and V’s thoughts teeter between humiliation and immodest destitution. She sinks deeper into her docility, giving Johnny full control of her body.

Johnny pulls out again, making her think he’s about to start up his thrusts but he flips her onto her stomach with ease. V’s face is pressed into the moisture-laden pillow from where her hair was soaking it and it proves to be more of a challenge to gain even a lungful of breath than when Johnny was choking her.

Suddenly, a loud clap resounds through the apartment when Johnny’s palm makes contact with the crown of V’s ass, jostling her whole torso. “Owww…” She cries into the pillow, savoring the sting. Another slap and another cry. Johnny keeps at this until she’s so smitten by getting spanked by his heavy, metallic hand she’s not even thinking about getting fucked until she least expects it.

Between a couple of Johnny’s merciless spankings, he pulls V up by the hips so that she’s ready to receive him once again. Following one more slap for good measure, V’s cry morphs into a lustful moan when Johnny pierces her from behind while massaging her swollen, battered cheeks.

Johnny groans into each thrust, realizing he’s been on the cusp of his own climax the entire time he’s been having his way with V. Between the roughness, her constantly building ecstasy and his own arousal, he doesn’t have long until he’s in the same boat.

V throws her hands behind her back, reaching for each elbow and hoping Johnny gets the nonverbal message. Seeing her arms as the perfect anchor, he grapples them like the reins of a horse, delightfully aiding in his pounding with full force. He shakes his head in disbelief when he feels himself getting sentimental about her, focusing on the sex while struggling to confront the deeper feelings he has for V. He finds that he can’t climax with a lack of connection. He needs sentimentality; survives off it. Instead of fending off the impulses Johnny holds for V, he allows them in, opening his heart to the purest of divine affection that he never thought possible before when his ego dictated his intimacy.

V cries into the pillow, clenching practically every muscle group in her body, arching her back into Johnny’s unwavering ramming. Breath clouds her face and she’s borderline suffocating in her own bed. She should be stricken with fright when tunnel-vision encloses fast and she can feel the moors of consciousness slip away, but she’s captivated by this tangible dominion Johnny has over her. 

The little bits of V’s skin still trapped between the metal plates of Johnny’s mitt are on fire. With a brassy groan, he slouches over her, gripping her arms even tighter as he empties his mythical load into her, shaking and quivering rather severely. The skin is pinched so roughly that V can feel her blood vessels get crushed with the immense force, already blooming with warm, fettering bruises. V subconsciously wishes that they stay with her long after Johnny disappears back into her mind.

Johnny pulls out of V, fully expecting an estuary of white but nothing appears. “Well, whaddya know.” He chuckles while dizzily gathering his breath as V collapses back onto the bed, having been properly worn out this time.

“What?” She asks, flushed and breathless as she exhaustively gulps down air. 

“I guess there’s a plus side to this whole ‘no body’ business. No cleanup.” Johnny shrugs, smiles at V then settles into bed beside her while taking her into his arms. She lets out a settling sigh, having finally caught her breath and tucks her head directly beneath his bearded chin, petting the opposite side of his face with her fingers.

“That’s a shame.” V starts contemplatively. “I was really looking forward to finding out what you taste like.”

“Really?!” Johnny questions with bewilderment.

“You act like that’s so crazy as if I didn’t just willingly get fucked by a hallucination.” She reasons.

“True, that.” Johnny smiles and V can feel his chin flex as it rests atop her head. Johnny’s smell is stronger now, or maybe that’s her scent. It’s hard to tell when they share two sides of the same coin. Their chests rise and fall together as if breathing from the same pair of lungs and Johnny scoffs after a few moments of silence.

“What’s wrong?” She asks him, resting her arm across his stomach.

“I was just thinking.” Johnny tilts his head to rest more on hers as his voice takes on a coarser tone, pulling V closer while soothing the bruises he left on her arms with his mech digits. “Sometimes when I wake up, it’s like I’m back for a while.”

“What do you mean, you’re back?” V watches as Johnny nervously circles her blemishes.

“Well, like I got this body to myself. Like I’m free.” Johnny’s next words are caught in his throat, careful not to say the wrong thing yet he proceeds. 

“Seconds later, it feels like I’m missing something- something really important.” Johnny rears his head back and pulls her gaze up by hwr chin.

“Then I realize you’re there, always were, and this stupid wave of relief washes over me.” He presses his lips to V’s, holding the kiss for a long, passionate while before pulling away.

“I have similar dreams sometimes… That you never died, that I’m you.” V speaks up, thankful she’s not the only one. “Not like I think, ‘What would Johnny do?’ It’s more I do something, and I feel… fucking great. Like I’ve finally started to fit into this world.”

“Sorry it took getting zeroed and being resuscitated by a digitized brain worm to make you feel like you belong.” Johnny’s grim yet humorous assessment of events made V laugh and she kissed him again.

“That’s not true. You’re the guy that saved my life.” V adds conclusively as both she and Johnny descend into a deep and dreamless slumber, caressing one another lovingly.

~ ~ ~

Thinking about the way Arthur's demeanor changes anytime he goes to see Mary. He shrinks so small when she's near and it pains me oh so deeply. He's the epitome of confident, smart-mouthed, resilient and ever formidable, but those beats of hesitation and self criticism between the subtle airs he puts on makes me think just how badly of an impact she had on his self worth.

I know the whole point of the game is that they're never meant to be because neither of them want to change and abandon their ways of life; Mary's being "realistic and progressive" in contrast to Arthur's untamed outlaw ways.

But when she constantly brings up running away together, I know she means true.(Who wouldn't , am I right?) She knows he's a once in a lifetime catch and she's capable of change. They both are. They want it so badly it's awfully tangible. It's just... they each have people in their families that they would never change for or abandon and it breaks me to this day when it acknowledges how prominent honor is within each of them.

We see both of them treated as castaways and miscreants by those meant to be allies. Their kind hearts and iron wills leave them to be taken advantage of all because they give the people that inevitably hurt them the benefit of the doubt.