Chapter Text
Reed is not really V’s idea of good company on a better day, and being around him now is outright excruciating.
So V does what he always does when he wants somebody out of his hair.
"Thank you for all that you’ve done for me," he says with a pleasant smile. "And I appreciate you giving it to me straight. All of it. I wouldn’t want it any other way."
There is an awkward beat. Reed clears his throat.
"There is a place for you here, you know. We need people like you."
He doesn’t sound very sure.
"Wow," V replies, "that’s a great offer, thank you! I’d like to think about it, though, if that’s okay with you. I hope you understand."
Reed looks at him with some serious fucking concern and quickly retreats to the door.
"Sure. I, uh, have to go, but you know where to find me."
"Of course. Thanks for dropping by!"
Once he is alone, V stares at the wall for an unknown period of time, his mind blank.
Then he walks up to the window. Stares some more at the leaves swaying in the wind.
Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to be able to cry.
At some point, his knees start shaking, and he has to go back to the desk.
That’s when he opens his messages.
There’s a shitload of notifications about missed calls and some previews of lengthy accusations with multiple exclamation marks.
Oh, and he’s been evicted.
But he will deal with all that later.
Because at the very top of the list, there is an unfamiliar chat.
It contains 283 unread messages.
V opens it.
The latest message is from three days ago. It says:
> How much more beauty sleep can you possibly need, you fucking cunt?
V dials the number instantly.
"Johnny?" he breathes the very moment the call connects.
V doesn’t even see a face, just a default static avatar.
"Stay right where you are, you hear me?"
The sound of Johnny's voice—his real voice—tears through V like a fucking sandstorm.
"Just stay there," Johnny repeats. "I’m coming to get you."
***
V survives a shitty hospital lunch and is bracing himself for a shitty hospital dinner when the comm in his ward chimes.
"V, there’s a visitor for you at the gate, but he doesn’t have security clearance. Would you like to go see him?"
V halts.
His legs are still a bit wobbly, but he’s been getting better and better at using them to frantically pace around the room.
"You said you’d discharge me four hours ago. For fuck’s sake, just do it! I… I really need to go."
"Of course," the comm responds.
And then they keep him there for 40 more minutes.
***
When V finally gets off the shuttle at the gate, it’s almost dark.
His body has been choking on adrenaline for hours, so he feels both dizzy and insane.
There’s a Porsche in the empty parking lot.
Facing away from V, a man stands leaning against the car door.
He’s smoking.
V slowly walks towards him. He can’t feel his legs.
"What the fuck is our car doing on the East Coast?" he asks. His voice breaks mid-sentence.
Johnny turns to face him.
"I had Kerry’s assistant ship us both here via a sub-orb shuttle," he replies. “Kerry’ll lose his shit when he finds out how much it cost.”
Then he pushes away from the vehicle and comes up to V.
They should probably say something, but they just stand there, staring at each other.
V thinks: We are in a parking lot, and we are two separate people.
And, over and over: Oh god, it’s really him. It’s really, really him. He’s flesh and blood. And yet it’s him.
Vik has done a wonderful fucking job.
It’s him.
Johnny’s expression is tense, unreadable, as if he’s masking pain.
"I am going to touch you," V tells him. "I need to make sure I’m not hallucinating."
Johnny blinks.
"Okay," he says. No cheap jab, not even a smirk—nothing.
And so V puts his hands on Johnny’s arms. Gives them a tentative squeeze.
Johnny is solid and warm under the black T-shirt. Very real.
V bites back something like a sob. Moves his palms up to Johnny’s shoulders, feels along the clavicles with his thumbs.
Finally, V raises his right hand and puts two fingers on Johnny’s neck.
Johnny’s pulse thrashes underneath his skin. It’s crazy fast.
"Oh, for fuck’s sake!" Johnny says. His voice is all gravel. It vibrates in his throat under V’s fingers.
Johnny swats V’s hand away, takes a step forward, and hugs him.
For a few seconds, V kind of blacks out. That’s what a major short-circuit must feel like for netrunners.
When he comes to his senses, his fingers are already digging into Johnny’s back, and his nose is pressed into Johnny’s shoulder.
There was a time in his life when he was absolutely sure he’d never be able to have this. Not that he thought about it. But yeah.
He closes his eyes. Breathes in. Johnny smells like cigarette smoke, old leather, and something tangy that V can’t really name.
Being this close to him feels like falling asleep and waking up at the same time. V likes it so fucking much that something like panic is starting to build up in his chest.
"You’re alright," Johnny says. It’s probably supposed to be reassuring, but there is so much naked relief in his voice that V’s throat tightens.
"I’m a cripple now," he replies. "No cyberware, no chrome, nothing. Or my brain will be fried."
Johnny is silent for a moment. Then he lays his palm on the crown of V’s buzz-cut head.
"Oh yeah?" he finally says. "Well, sucks to suck."
V snorts.
Johnny’s hand moves across the short bristles of his hair, and V draws back.
Johnny instantly lets him go, as if he was expecting it.
"Just so you know, I’m not finished," V says. "Just need a moment."
Johnny rolls his eyes.
"Well, we have about 40 hours of driving ahead of us, so maybe you can continue with your whining in the car while we’re actually fucking going somewhere?"
"No," V replies. "I’m not finished with my hug."
Their eyes meet.
Fuck. V has a face. Johnny has a face. They are both conscious, somewhat lucid, and in no immediate danger. Would you look at that.
Then Johnny grabs him again and lifts him up for a second. He's slightly taller and much stronger than V is right now.
“I’ll fuck you up!” V shrieks, laughing.
“Yeah? I'd like to see you try.”
He does put V back on the ground, but doesn’t loosen his grip in the slightest.
"Gentlemen," an elderly female voice suddenly says over the speaker, "would you be so kind as to vacate the parking lot of the FIA headquarters?"
"Bite me!" Johnny yells as V flips the speaker off.
But they do fuck off from there shortly afterwards.
***
"Where is my fucking cat?" V asks in the car.
"At Misty’s."
"What, he lives there now?"
Johnny snorts like V’s being ridiculous.
"Fuck no."
“And what about my stuff?”
“Well, there were shitloads of it. You’re a fucking hoarder. But I took care of it.”
“You did what?”
“I didn’t sell all of it. Chill. Just the utter garbage. What the fuck did you need fifteen Copperheads for?”