Chapter Text
V considered himself somewhat of a master at controlling his regression, almost to a fault. He struggled sometimes to regress when he genuinely wanted to because he was just too used to repressing it, too paranoid about needing to be big just in case. But that was the price he had to pay in order to not go all baby-brained in dangerous situations. In Night City, you had to stay sharp, and V knew that well.
Which was why it was such a shock when he regressed in the middle of a gig. He wasn't exactly sure what had even triggered it. Maybe it was the sum of too many small things, and when that last straw touched the camel's back... One second, he had been mostly fine, slinking through some dirty vents, and then the next, he felt small and claustrophobic. The ever-present electric hum of the city, something that he usually could tune out, sounded more like rolling thunder to him. His clothes were too tight. The vent was far too narrow. Everything was too, too much.
Panic set in quickly. His breaths devolved into quick gasps. His fingers trembled. He felt wrong. His tongue didn't want to work properly, but he managed to stammer out a quiet plea, "J-Johnny...?"
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Johnny said, appearing before him, static buzzing around him in his franticness. His presence should've made the tightness of the space worse, but V felt a weight off his shoulders instead. Johnny's voice was sure and calm as he told V, "Alright, we gotta delta. Let me take over for a bit. I'll get us outta here."
V tensed at the thought of giving up control of his body again. He already felt out of control when his regression popped up like this. To give up even more was a terrifying thought. "But–"
Johnny interrupted him to say, "V, I'm not fuckin’ around. There are Tyger Claws all over the damn place. You gotta trust me."
After a moment of reluctance, V nodded. He pulled out one of Misty's pills and forced himself to let go, allowing Johnny to take the reins of his—their?—body.
Getting from Kabuki back to Watson was a blur. V wasn't sure how it felt for Johnny, being trapped in V's head, but to V, taking the backseat felt like floating in space, like drowning without the fear. Everything blurred, everything muffled, and a weightlessness, a lack of tangible existence that somehow felt empty and heavy all at once.
V felt himself coming back to reality somewhat sluggishly, blinking slowly and writhing like his limbs were filled with lead. He was in his bed, his shoes, mask, and jacket discarded on the floor nearby. For a moment, he felt like he might be able to force his brain to be adult, even if not fully functioning. But then Johnny appeared crouched at the side of the bed and used that almost-soft voice reserved only for Little V, "Hey, bud."
V's blank expression crumpled at the sound. He didn't slip so much as plummet into his headspace. That buzzing, tingly, too-much feeling came back with thrice as much force. He shifted slightly closer to engram, mewling, "Johnny..."
"Hey now, don't get all weepy on me, kid. You're fine. You just always get fussy when you wake up." Johnny was half-teasing. He knew firsthand just how sour V's mood was in the morning, having been the recipient of many swears, gestures, and the occasional item lobbed through his digital head. Compared to that, a bit of whining was nothing. Johnny knew how to handle that.
And just as Johnny expected, V pouted at him and firmly insisted, "Not fussy. Jus’ don't feel good…"
"You sure? Seem pretty fussy to me," Johnny mused, tapping his finger to his chin and staring at V with a discerning look. It was over-dramatic and maybe even a little silly, but Johnny knew it would rile V up.
V sat up, looking even more sullen. He crossed his arms and made a point to turn his head away from Johnny. "I am not! Only babies are fussy."
"Oh, and you're not a baby, right?" Johnny smirked, knowing full well how this would end. It didn't always go down quite the same, but this game they played was a familiar one by now.
V wasn't exactly the vulnerable type, and Johnny was no role model in that regard either. If V had it his way, Johnny would have never found out about his regression. If Johnny could have, he would've ignored it. But V hated to admit he needed to regress, and Johnny would never outright say that he actually enjoyed watching over him. The two of them were too stubborn for their own good. So instead of acting like emotionally intelligent adults and communicating, the two of them did a strange little song and dance where they had to act like neither of them really wanted to do it. V would resist his headspace, and Johnny would make his jokes, and eventually, they would settle into a softer pattern.
But for now, V was still resisting. He huffed, "Notta baby. 'M a big kid."
Johnny held back the urge to roll his eyes at the V's unconvincing declaration. He scoffed and told him, "I'm pretty sure big kids don't pout like that. You're lookin' like a fussy baby."
"Nuh-uh!" V cleverly retorted.
Johnny tsked, shaking his head like an exasperated parent. "Yep. Just a cranky baby who needs his pacifier."
V's sulky expression faltered at the mention of his pacifier. Even in his older headspaces, he still liked to use it from time to time to indulge his oral fixation. It was healthier than chain-smoking but far more embarrassing. Unfortunately, Johnny knew about his attachment to the damned thing and wasn't afraid to use it to his advantage in times like these.
But V stiffened his lip and tried to steel his resolve, "Don't need a binky..."
"Ever?"
"Ever," V affirmed with a nod.
"So I guess you’ll be gettin’ rid of yours. You're much too big for somethin’ like that, aren't you?" Johnny raised an eyebrow, knowing V wouldn't call his bluff.
V's lip quivered, and after a moment, he broke. He slumped his shoulders and looked at Johnny like a sopping wet puppy, "I… I can keep it, just in case."
Johnny could have ended the game there easily, but he couldn't help but push things. He cracked a smile and had a hint of amused laughter in his voice as he asked, "Just in case? Just in case of what?"
"Johnny..." V whined in embarrassment. His cheeks were starting to turn pink, and he was squirming in discomfort. He was getting smaller.
Johnny played innocent, shrugging as he asked, "What? Do you need your pacifier sometimes?” His voice turned into mocking coo as he continued, "Are you not so big after all?"
V mostly felt bashful and flustered, but part of the game was being mad at Johnny, even if he wasn't actually offended by the teasing. So he put on his best, most sulky pout and grumbled, "You're so mean..."
"Oh, I know. I’m such a bully. Now, are you gonna admit you're a baby?" Johnny asked, smirking.
"'M not! Stop it…" V looked up at Johnny with those pitiful puppy dog eyes he had learned to weaponize.
“Not ‘til you say it.”
“Johnny~”
Johnny shrugged. “I can keep going as long as you need. I don’t have anywhere to be.”
V let out an annoyed sigh, bottom lip pushing out further just so there wasn't any shred of doubt that was not pleased with this situation. Finally, he grumbled, “Imma baby.”
“Sorry, what was that?” Johnny asked, leaning in and sarcastically cupping his hand to his ear.
“I'm a baby, alright!?” V sounded annoyed and bratty. Right where Johnny found him most entertaining.
“Now was that so hard?”
V flipped Johnny off half-heartedly before clumsily standing up to retrieve his gear. He stopped by his closet long enough to change into a pair of gray sweats and a large Valentino hoodie he had stolen from Jackie ages ago. It still smelled like him slightly and was the closest thing V could get to hugging him again. In his stash room, he opened up the chest that held his regression stuff and pulled out his cat plushie, his pacifier, and the sippy cup he had recently purchased.
“I know what you're thinkin’, and you're not puttin’ ChroManticore in that,” Johnny said as he appeared, sitting atop the counter. “You can have water.”
V rolled his eyes. “You're one to talk. You just drink icky tequila.”
“I'm the prime example of ‘do as I say, not as I do,’ kid. I wouldn't recommend nuking a building either.”
“Yeah, you would.”
“Yeah… I would,” Johnny chuckled.
V grabbed all of his stuff, including a can of ChroManticore, and headed toward his bed. He made it halfway across the apartment before an error message flashed across his optics. At the same time, a spike of agony in his head had him doubling over. He felt a trickle of blood from his nose slide down over his lip as his head spun. There was a tight, raspy pain in his voice as he moaned.
“Oh, fuck,” Johnny hissed, his engram stuttering and glitching as the relic malfunctioned. He vanished, but V didn't notice at first, too focused on not collapsing into a twitching heap on the floor. There was no growing used to the relic wreaking havoc, but this one was a doozy, and V quickly found himself on his knees, coughing and wheezing. He felt like he was suffocating.
A moment later, Johnny appeared, buzzing with static, never quite fully taking shape. His voice scratched and skipped like a corrupted holo as he said, “Sh—it-t, V. Y-You gotta— c-caaall V-V-Vik.”
“I…” V dropped down onto the floor, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling as his vision flickered. It wasn't until heard Johnny's choppy voice in his ear again, urging him to act, that he managed to get his contacts pulled up. He selected Vik's number, but it was still ringing when V felt himself slipping into nothing.
…
…
When he awoke, V found himself no longer on the floor but instead comfortably tucked into his bed. The malfunction had passed, but V still felt like he had been run over by a truck. While his body felt heavy and numb, his head felt empty and fuzzy. The only consolation was the pacifier in his mouth, its sleek rubbery nub familiar and soothing, but it was still not enough. Whining in discomfort, he wriggled in his bed and kicked helplessly at the sheets trapping his legs.
“Woah, there, V. Just stay still,” Vik's voice got louder as footsteps approached, then a hand gently pushed on his chest, pinning him down. Softly, he told him, “You had quite the episode, buddy. You need to rest, okay?”
The world seemed to come to a screeching halt at that moment as Vik sat down on the edge of the bed and V realized that he was sucking on a pacifier in front of his goddamn ripperdoc. He quickly yanked the pacifier out of his mouth and hid it under the blanket even though he knew Vik had already seen it. He tried to come up with an explanation, but he felt too small to play it cool. Tripping over his words, he mumbled, “Vik, I don't– You… I-It's not…”
“Hey, if you don't wanna talk about it, none of my biz,” Vik assured him, immediately understanding what V was trying to say. He'd seen plenty of weird shit as a ripperdoc, and his policy was always the same: If it wasn't medically relevant, he didn't need to know. This was, however, the first time he found himself wanting to know, though.
V heard Johnny's voice in his head, “Just tell him, for Christ's sake. If I can understand, Saint Vik definitely will.”
Still unsure, V shifted under the covers, turning his head away so he wouldn't have to look at Vik as he said, “I… I do. Wanna tell you. 's hard, though.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Vik replied with a small, sympathetic smile.
V kept his eyes fixed on the wall, not daring to move when he felt Vik’s hand on his arm. He let out a heavy breath when Vik’s thumb started gently rubbing his shoulder.
After a moment, Vik patted his arm and told him, “You can take all the time you need to talk, kid, but I do need to check the shard. Can you roll onto your back for me?”
Vik was always kind to him—when Johnny said he had a soft spot for V, he wasn't wrong—but the absolute gentleness with which he spoke now was new, and it sent V careening down further into his headspace. He did as he was asked, rolling over, and finally looked up at Vik with a pitiful expression. “Hurts…”
“What hurts? Your head?” Vik asked, and when he got a nod in confirmation, he tenderly took V's wrist and pulled out his personal jack, plugging it into the deck he always brought on the rare housecall. The data didn't look good, but he hadn't expected it to. Didn't mean the reminder of V's encroaching end didn't hurt like a bitch.
As he returned V's personal, he said, “Luckily, things haven't gotten too much worse since your last check-up, but you gotta take it easy for the rest of the day.”
The adult voice in V's head wanted to tell Vik that he and Johnny didn't have time to waste, that their clock was quickly running out. But that voice was muffled behind layers of childlike fear and a desperate need for comfort. So what came out was a pitiful plea to Vik. “Stay?”
“Aw, kid, you know I would…” Vik hesitated in his explanation when V's lip started to quiver. He could feel his heart breaking and his resolve crumbling. He just couldn't bring himself to say no to V, not when he had Vik wrapped about his little chrome-plated pinky. That wide-eyed, teary expression was all it took to convince Vik to close up shop for the day. Still, he leveraged the situation and offered, “Tell ya what, I'll stay as long as you want, but you gotta answer some questions for me.”
“Questions?” V parroted nervously.
“Just a couple, I won't press ya too hard. Unless you still don't feel ready to talk,” Vik replied.
Johnny, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up and encouraged V, “C'mon, just rip the damn bandage off.”
Vik saw V's gaze shift over toward the window. He knew V was talking to his digital stowaway, but didn't hear the conversation happening in V's head. Whatever words were said, he wished he could thank Johnny for it when V mumbled, “I'll try…”
“Good boy,” Johnny said, half-joking.
Vik patted V's arm, giving him a fond smile. He had seen V at some of his lowest moments, emotionally and physically, but he had never seen this bashful, soft-spoken side of him before. He couldn't help but be endeared. “Alright, bud, why don't we get you comfortable first? Starting with water.”
V, now realizing just how parched he was, readily agreed to that. Until Vik got up and retrieved the red plastic sippy cup. He blushed, feeling his muscles tense up as Vik explained, “I took the liberty of filling this up while you slept.”
As the cup was offered to him, V could only stare at it, paralyzed by a swell of anxiety. When the cup hung from Vik's hand for too long, he let out a little sigh. V turned his face away, guilt gnawing at him at the disappointed sound, but Vik took his chin and steered his gaze back towards him, “Kid, it's okay. This ain't my first time around the block. I can promise nothing you throw at me can faze me. Certainly not something as harmless as a sippy cup.”
V slowly seemed to thaw a bit before reaching for the sippy cup. He held it with both hands for a moment, only bringing it to his mouth when Vik said, “Go on. You hafta be thirsty.”
V obeyed, taking a long swill of the cool water. It slid down his aching throat and soothed the scratchy feeling that had only been worsening since he woke up. The second sip he took was less timid, which prompted Vik to start with, “You feel… little sometimes?”
“H-how did you…?”
“There are only a few reasons a childless adult would own a pacifier and sippy cup. Age regression seemed most likely,” Vik explained nonchalantly. When V's eyes widened at his use of the term, he said, “It isn't as uncommon as you might think.”
V's gaze shifted away, cheeks almost as red as the cup he brought back to his mouth in lieu of replying. He didn't drink, he just held the spout between his teeth with enough force to leave shallow bite marks on the plastic. It felt wrong for Vik to know this. It felt weird to have him here while V was in his headspace. It made his stomach do flips and twists. Everything was all itchy, too big, too fast, too much all at once.
He didn't realize he was hyperventilating until Vik reached over and took the sippy cup back, attempting to ground him. He pressed his hand to V's heaving chest, acting as a physical anchor, and softly said, “Hey, hey, you're okay, V. Just take a nice, deep breath for me.”
V flinched away at first, letting out a strangled yelp. He wanted to scramble off the bed and run away from this terrifyingly vulnerable situation. With Johnny, there was no way to run from the engram; he had no choice but to let him in. Vik was another story though, and that urge to escape was getting harder to ignore. The only problem was V didn't think his legs could get him very far.
So instead of running, he hid. He yanked at the covers until they had enough give for him to throw it over his head. It was childish to cower under the blankets, he knew that, but it felt less embarrassing than facing Vik.
“V…” Viktor said softly. “You don't have to be embarrassed. S’alright, really. I just want to know more so I can help.”
V remained in his hiding spot, but timidly asked, “What… Wha’d'ya wanna know?”
“How often do you regress?”
V made a noncommittal noise before saying, “Once a week, maybe.” He felt the need to add, “Didn't do it so much before… y'know.”
Vik nodded solemnly. The looming threat of death definitely warranted using a coping mechanism more often. “Yeah... That's okay, though. You can regress as much as you need. Do you have a specific age range?”
“Um, four-ish?”
Johnny immediately called bullshit, telling V, “Don't lie to him.” He scoffed and shook his head in disappointment as he muttered to himself, “Can't believe you got me promoting honest communication of all things…”
V let out a huff of his own and peeked out from the blankets as he amended his answer, “Maybe a bit smaller…”
Vik studied V for a moment before saying, “I take it Silverhand is aware.” V only hummed affirmatively in reply. “How does he feel about it?”
V looked up at Johnny, waiting for him to give him an answer to relay, but Johnny just shrugged and looked out the window. V shrugged himself as he told Vik, “He's nicer about it than I thought he'd be. He sorta takes care of me…” he pouted a little as he added, “Teases me a lot though.”
“You love it,” Johnny said, a fond smile forming.
Vik looked just as amused by V's answer. He reached out to tousle V's hair as he replied, “Oh he does? Well, us grouchy old men can be like that sometimes.”
“You're not grouchy,” V insisted, looking adorably offended. He didn't mention the old part though, which made Vik chuckle.
“Maybe not as much around you.” Vik knew it was a sappy thing to say, but V already had wormed his way so thoroughly into his heart. He often thought of V as the son he never got to have, and now, with Little V, it felt like he was getting just a piece of true fatherhood.
“Aww,” Johnny cooed playfully, “I think he wants to be your daddy, V.”
Vik saw V's eyes flick back over to the window before he tensed up and blushed. Even though he knew he wouldn't be able to see the engram, he looked at the spot V kept glancing at. “What's wrong?”
V avoided the question and instead gave Vik a pitiful look. “My head still hurts…”
“I know. I'm sorry, kid. Let's get you something to help with that. It's probably gonna make you feel a bit fuzzy.” Vik reached into his bag and pulled out an injector of Bounce Back. He wasn't looking forward to sticking V with a needle, but it would last longer than the inhaler. He placed a hand on V's arm, both to steady him and offered some comfort, before administering the medication.
He expected a flinch or a whine from the little prick of a needle, but the whimper that came instead twinged Vik's heart. He rubbed the injured spot tenderly, saying, “I'm sorry, buddy. That was mean of me, huh?”
Instead of responding, V clumsily turned and reached for Vik. His arms found purchase around Vik broad shoulders, and he stuck his face into the crook of his neck. He knew he should be embarrassed to be acting like a needy baby, but at the same time, it had been so incredibly long since he was actually held by someone with a physical body. The dopamine rush was too euphoric for him to even think about pulling away. He didn't even consciously notice Johnny making himself scarce within their head.
“Vik…” his plea came out weak and wobbly.
Solid, muscular arms wrapped around him, one moving lower to pull V leg’s over Vik's lap while the other rubbed circles on his back. “Sh, sh… it didn't hurt that bad, right?”
“No, I jus’...” V mumbled, unsure how to respond. He wasn't quite sure how he ended up so upset, though there were plenty of reasons to choose from: regressing on a job, the shard malfunction, having to come clean to Vik about his most vulnerable side. Any one of those would be enough on their own, but all together, it felt like unending and overwhelming. He clung to Vik a little tighter as he managed to croak out, “Stay, please…”
“I told ya I'd stay, didn't I? I keep my word, kid,” Vik assured him.
As he was held and rocked, V let out a sound that was suspiciously close to a sob, then another sound that was definitely a sob. He couldn't hold it all back anymore. He was so sad, and so scared all of the time. He got no rest and no privacy. He missed Jackie. The guilt still festered and metastasized within him. He was in constant pain. He can't change anything. He was slowly losing himself… Finally, he blurted out, “I don't wanna die!”
Vik had to take a breath to steady himself, tears welling up in his own eyes. Shakily, he tried to offer some comfort, “I know, V. And you won't, not yet. We're gonna– You'll find a way. I know you will.”
If V was soothed by that, Vik couldn't tell. He continued to cry and cry and cry, wetting Vik's shirt with tears and snot, releasing everything that had been pent up, until his wails dwindled to hiccups and he finally conked out on Vik's shoulder. It was the kind of deep sleep that only came about from utter exhaustion plus a little medication. He didn't stir at all as Vik shifted him back into a supine position on the bed and placed the pacifier back in his mouth.
True to his word, he stayed. He tenderly cleaned off the sticky dried tears from V's face, tucked him in with his cat plushie, and sent him off to sleep with a kiss to the forehead. Then he set about cleaning V's apartment and ordering some groceries, going through something akin to nesting as he waited for V to wake up.
Johnny, as usual, wasn't wrong. Vik wanted V to be his baby.