#silverv fic

Yo, V, Johnny called with too much forced nonchalance to make you expect something truly witty. Whatever he was about to say, he came prepared, which was an even worse sign. It was Johnny fucking ‘Nonchalance’ Silverhand.

What? You asked indifferently, checking the location sent to you by a client.

Damn Northside again, it was making you feel sick already. But Johnny couldn’t care less. He was in his own world currently, and no force could break him out of it.

You have a favorite fixer?

“Why?” It broke out of your throat out loud, not like you would usually talk to him.

It could be the exhaustion you felt or simply how ridiculous that question was, coming from him.

Just like that, he muttered, but you could tell he already didn’t like your reaction. And shut up. We don’t want you talkin’ to yourself out loud, especially when you’re infiltrating a building, do we?

Here he was, the flashy bastard.

I guess… Reyes’ fine, you answered and checked your rifle for the final time, scanning the place.

San Domo's first lunatic?

Not that you cared about his mocking tone, he knew that. You, on the other hand, knew that he would complain no matter what you would say.

If you insist on calling him that way.

The silence, the fucking lovely silence that dragged on, told you he wanted to hear more but wouldn’t admit it.

I like the way he speaks to me. Could fool me that he respects me, you explained.

Or he's just trying very hard to make it into your pants, Johnny answered like he was only waiting to bring that up.

Maybe, you agreed without unnecessary banter. If so, I'd say he's like… halfway there.

The disgusted groan you could hear made you crack a smile. All while climbing up the nearest window to avoid the guards at the building’s entrance.

What the fuck, V…

You really wanted to laugh.

He'd be closer to it if not the haircut.

That wasn’t enough for Johnny that day. He didn’t make it an hour even before he started rambling again, so much out of his usual behavior. He didn’t even call you a gonk this week, which was weird as fuck to say the least.

What about Hands?

You frowned, and you were no longer sure if it came from his irritating voice in your mind or the bullet that rang next to your ear. Mr. Hands the fixer?

It took him a moment to answer, or he was simply waiting for you to finish up with the guy hiding behind a vending machine. There was something metallic in the gurgling scream he let out. One more Maelstrom bastard down.

Him, Johnny said. You’re into that kind of… secret, faceless shit?

Not really, you murmured and switched the rifle to a simple knife.

How abo–

You let out a sight.

How about not now, Johnny? I have this guy's brain on my boots and a customer to save.

Silverhand, though, decided to have no damn mercy over you. It only got worse, honestly.

You were sitting in your car peacefully, somewhere near Ebunike docks, trying to catch a silent moment in a city that never stopped screaming and howling right into your ear. Johnny, apparently, teamed up with it on the task of disturbing your moment of meditation.

Remember about Claire?

Normally you would roll your eyes, but he managed to pique your interest. 

What Claire, Johnny?

Jesus V, you’re an awful friend. She called yesterday, and you didn't pick up ‘cause you were busy.

That made sense.

Oh, Claire! Right. It's probably about the next race, and you know we don’t have time for that now.

He did know, and certainly there was a reason why he brought that up. After a few moments, he spoke up again, sounding like there was even more irritation filling his nonexistent body than ever.

… And do you like her?

Okay, Johnny, that's enough, you decided. You're starting to sound as if you're my younger sister, and the next step is asking if you can go on my date with me.

“Hey, I know you!”

On some days you were so used to the voice in your head that hearing someone actually speak was giving you creeps. Yeah, you were certainly going mad. Real voices made you shiver, especially when they weren’t screams of dying enemies but something casual, simple in its regularity.

Johnny tended to keep reminding you that he only sees what you see, but now you’d say he was full of shit. You didn’t even budge your head up at the friendly greeting, and here Johnny was, whining in your mind in irritation as if he could see the man in front of you already.

Nah, tell him that he doesn’t know you, V. Make it sound like a warning, he advised in that voice of his that made everything sound like an order you would do wrong anyway.

What’d you care? You snapped back. Afraid to be the less famous one of us?

“Shit, I didn’t expect to see the Legend herself sitting in the hall next door from me,” said the man  in front of you.

Judging from his voice, he was nice enough. To your ear, it wasn’t  a pickup line exactly, not a threat of any kind. Not that you let your guard down easily.

What I care, Johnny kept going, is that I don’t want a welcome party in our flat just because your neighbor is a snitch.

Our flat, Johnny? Our? You asked teasingly.

Yours, he agreed after a moment of silence. Fuck, same thing, V.

It ain’t.

Shut up.

“I don’t mean to bother you, ma’am, just—” the man spoke again, interrupting your rather unwanted bickering with your holographic paradise.

“The Legend, huh?” You questioned and looked up from your work. Dirty work, in fact, but rather a domestic one for a merc like you. Boring, too. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” He smiled, seeing your grin anyway. “Well, alright then… I must have mistaken you for someone, right? You don’t happen to be V, do you?”

You shrugged and looked around the corridor, just in case Johnny was right. He could be, sure, but… he usually wasn't. Or that was how you would prefer it.

“I am, but just… neighbor V right now, not Legend V,” you remarked firmly.

“I get it. You, uhm—” Clearly he forgot what he wanted to say when he nodded to your current occupation.

Suddenly you got a little cautious about the situation. A bucket of semi-clean water, sunk in blood. You, crouched over between the thing, your pair of combat boots, and a huge stain of water near you, trying not to get more wet than you already were. The man took in the sight deeply, you could tell, and you almost moved the bucket behind you to hide it.

What the hell, V? Just tell him to piss off instead of going shy all of a sudden.

Fuck. At least you kicked the door to your apartment closed so he wouldn’t see the mess inside with the crown view of your bra displayed in the middle of it.

You don’t hide your bras from me, so don’t shy out now, Johnny teased.

How the fuck would I hide them from you? You asked sarcastically.

You girls always find ways, I don't know…

The man spotted your unpleased expression and looked at the remaining gore on the spike of your boots. “Not the nicest work, huh?” He suggested.

“How did you know?” You scoffed, making him smile a bit.

“Hey, I could… Maybe do it for you next time, perhaps? Save you a bother?” He offered, moving his hands too much for your liking when he talked.

“Because I’m the hero V? No thanks.”

He shook his head immediately.

“Nah, not what I meant. I'd do mine anyway, so…” He shrugged, nodding to his own door then making you look left. “See, there’s this old lady living over there. She’s a kind one, delicate. I don't want her passing out from the sight of blood and all.”

Oh, so he likes grandmas too, what a guy, Johnny hissed. Ask him if he's an animal shelter volunteer while you’re at it already. For fuck's sake…

“Yeah, whatever…” you muttered to your neighbour, unconvinced about his intentions at all.

“I mean, I get why you do it here. The flats are rather small and… Yeah, I wouldn't want blood all over my place either.”

Actually, if he was insisting… What, he would steal your old boots? Then so be it, you could have another pair.

“Yeah. You know what? Hell, yeah, you can clean my boots if you want so badly,” you decided while clasping your palms together in your lap. With a merciful smile, you looked at him again. “Who am I to turn you down?”

“Great,” he laughed. “I mean not great in a … I’m not some sort of weirdo, I mean.”

“Oh no, you certainly are,” you joked and stood up.

He rolled his eyes and offered you his hand.

“Was just trying to be nice. I’m Matt.”

After a longer conversation it turned out that Matt was, in fact, rather nice and he indeed lived next door. Not talkative enough to consider him irritating but not quiet to make the talk boring. Not that Johnny agreed with any of that, obviously. He mocked the man every chance he got but he started his true vendetta against him (and you too, to be precise) only when you entered your flat again.

Well, at least your bloodied boots were clean now, right?

God, you’re stupid, V. You could feel the growl even somewhere in the depth of your skull.

Sometimes he could be really infuriating.

Excuse me? You say something, rockerboy?

He showed up to sprawl all over your sofa. He shook his head and supported it with his hands, laying on his back.

You’re so dead, dude… With the shit you do? I'm surprised you're still breathing.

Bastard. How dare he, after all you’ve been through because of him?

You let out a grim chuckle, making even the never caring Silverhand look up, shooting you a glare from under his shades.

Oh, so it's ‘our’ flat, but ‘I’m’ dead. Yeah, nice, you scoffed.

Followin’ the religious path I’d say a man can’t die twice, so–, he tried to argue.

And when the hell did you step on the religious path, huh, Johnny Silverhand?

Never. I’m making it fit my delusions, just like they do.

All you could do was sigh and sit next to him, resting your weary bones.

What got you so mad anyway? The guy? I mean what, you don’t like guys being nice to me?

You would swear that the look on his face betrayed nothing but vicious intentions. Ones like that if he could, he would push you to the ground right now.

Not just a guy and he wasn't being nice. He ‘saka scum, are you blind? He ‘explained’ like it was obvious.

What?

The implants, you gonk?

There he was, putting an end to this week’s niceness.

Jesus. Many people have ‘saka implants. Maybe he’s an ex corp or bought it secondhand, you reasoned.

Yeah, tell this to yourself. Feed you fucking innocence, V. Or do you like that, huh? Does it turn you on? He wouldn’t be the first Arasaka bastard you do heart eyes at.

Now he made you sit up straighter and tighten your fist on one of the pillows.

What the fuck, Johnny?

He dared to grin, smile right into your face at the same time looking like he would throw up.

Takemura?

You felt like laughing, the wave of terror going away as fast as it washed over you.

Takemura, you repeated. Seriously? You are the big Johnny Silverhand, king of retorts, and you pull the ‘Goro Takemura’s nice eyes’ thing at me?

It ain’t a lie though.

You really wanted to mess with him and ask which part exactly wasn’t a lie, because you’d bet he didn’t mean the man’s eyes.

Yeah, fine, you admitted, guessing it would annoy him even more. He’s alright, so what?

So what? If he could he would choke on his own breath and you would pay to see that. Jump off the nearest roof, it’d be easier and you’d spare me humiliation.

You decided to ignore him, so you turned on the TV and made yourself more comfortable.

You are SO jealous, Johnny, you teased. But I mean like sooo jealous.

You’re outta your mind, V.

Good thing you’re in it then. Do the thinking for the both of us. Because that’s what you imagine you do, no?

No. I know it.

“I might ask him to go out with me,” you admitted to Misty one day, mentioning your newly met neighbour.

She was glad to hear it, nodded all enthusiastically and wished you luck.

Still, the silence in your head felt heavy. Quiet enough to give you a headache, since you were so used to constant noise.

Or agree if he asks first, you added only for Johnny to hear.

It made him speak up against his better judgement, but he felt like he had to.

Do what you want about the first, but the second… It’ll be a trap, V. If I had money I'd bet a nice sum on it.

So you say I should be quick with asking myself, then. Nice, I'll do that.

So here you were, led to this situation only because you wanted to mock Johnny a bit and make him admit a few things. You didn’t really like it. Not at all, to be honest, so you kept your revolver close. You forced yourself into calmness to not give him any satisfaction.

The man you were supposed to meet for a date stood in front of his car that was too fancy to think he wasn’t showing off and too pathetic to actually be impressed. He had that look about him, that fucking grin Johnny knew well. Hell, he wore it himself many times. A damn animal on a hunt.

You stared at him from your window, still contemplating if it was worth it.

Nice car, you muttered to Johnny. Lots of space in the back.

Oh, V.

Fine, if he wasn’t in the mood for talking then no. You reached out for your stuff and marched to the door, but Johnny managed to stop you.

Take the blockers, he almost ordered. I don’t want to see any of that.

No, I don't think I will.

What the hell, V? Take them.

He let the thought about your doomed intentions sink. It all scared him much more than he would care to admit.

What are you doing, huh? Why?

You brushed the doorknob a few times, almost playfully.

You know why.

He turned mute again, but even though you couldn’t sense his thoughts or feelings for a while, you felt a sharp tug somewhere in your chest.

Admit it, you dared him.

Admit what? Johnny snarled.

God, you’re so stubborn… Are lead vocalists always this bossy and stubborn?

Shut up.

I can do that but you’d have to speak up. Say you’re jealous.

Of you? He mocked.

Maybe it should sting but it didn’t. It was fucking Johnny, he said worse things just minutes after saying he’d offer his life for yours if he had something left to give.

Of me. Say that it’s making you go crazy.

You know what an overread is, V? Means you’re seeing things.

Fine. then I guess I'll be going, you declared and fixed the cleavage of your shirt, before gripping the door again. Matt surely can take care of a woman like you’d never—

I am fucking jealous. It almost sounded painful. Like words of someone who said the truth and was genuinely petrified by that. Alright? It’s the last time I’m saying that and I do it only because I don't want to see that bastard without his clothes.

What was that? I didn’t quite catch it, you muttered, opening the door.

Fffuck, V, he groaned. I’m jealous. I don’t want to see him touch you. I don’t want to see anyone but him especially.

What about Goro if you already mentioned him?

Fuck Goro. He’ll send us to an early grave, that I know, but if he lays his fucking hands on you that way I’ll–

You will what? There’s nothing you can do, Johnny.

You think I don’t fucking know that? I don’t like how all of this pleases you, V. You’re being a bitch right now.

I guess. You can live with it. It's nice hearing you not bullshiting once a while.

He must have set keeping you here and away from Matt his true goal, because he didn’t talk back, didn’t curse, not even joke.

So will you go see him? He asked.

No. No, I guess you just pleased me enough. Don't need more entertainment…

You’re fucking cruel.

So what if you were? He wasn’t a saint either.

It was fun when you asked me about people, you admitted, realizing your upper hand over him now. Do it again.

He obeyed in a pathetic manner. As if he was using his only chance to finish a task.

Reed? He offered.

What about him?

You like that soldierish patheticness?

Oh, he's fine.

Johnny grunted without further comment.

What, you don't like that he's all that you are not? Chill, he’s not interested in me.

He showed up right in front of you, making you step back even though you really didn’t have to.

And who the fuck was there for you when you were barely alive? He rasped all of a sudden. Who talked to you when you were choking on your own vomit? Sure as hell not any of ‘em!

You would laugh into his face if you weren’t busy clenching your jaw.

You had no other choice, you pointed out.

I did have a fucking choice. I could just leave you to yourself, pretend I don't exist and still I bothered to make it easier for you.

Then promise me, Johnny! You screamed. Promise me that you will be here for me when I need you. That you won’t leave, fuck me when I’m at my lowest. Won’t let Alt eat me alive. Can you say that and mean it?

I promise, fuck.

You were in a true state of mess right now.

You should have gotten to that damn date, only if it could save you from another night of work. This occupation was addictive. The adrenaline, closeness of death, chrome and always lingering psychos… It was awful, yes, but it could also get you in its embrace and never let go.

The job went well, but it didn’t matter.

Not right now, when just minutes ago a kid was literally run over by a truck in front of you. They tried to flee, get away before a stray bullet would catch them and you tried to reach the small body to cover it with yours for a while. Offer the child a chance to let go.

The bleak reality washed over you when everything silenced. The sight was brutal but finally calm. You could steady your breath, hide your weapons and let go of any masks you wore. All you wanted was someone to talk to.

You needed a holo to a friend who would listen that life sucks and this town will drain your blood like a vamp. But there was no Jackie anymore. No nobody, because you wouldn’t be able to look yourself in the mirror if you bothered poor Vik with more of your problems.

And where are you now, huh? You promised to be there for me when I needed you, you muttered to the man you were tied to.

The one who could stay quiet and let you handle your sorrows yourself, but he was much too impatient to do that.

I am here, V. Always.

He was, even if it sometimes didn’t feel enough.

You sighed, wiping your hands over your shirt.

Do you want to have a crazy night with me, Johnny? Forget everything for a while?

Just not too crazy this time. I don’t want you whining and complaining in the morning.

You know what? Maybe we do fit together, after all…