Chapter Text
The seeds of life—
fiery is their force, divine their birth, but they
are weighed down by the bodies' ills or dulled
by earthly limbs and flesh that's born for death.
That is the source of all men's fears and longings,
joys and sorrows, nor can they see the heavens' light,
shut up in the body's tomb, a prison dark and deep.
— Vergil, The Aeneid
"Hey, V! What's up, kid? Been a while since you came to see ol' Vick.
Next time you're in the neighborhood, we'll talk about old times and... I'll take a look at you."
“V. Good to see you. Come for a checkup?”
Viktor was in his usual spot, his gaze fixed on the screen in front of him. When he recognised V, he flipped the screen off and sat back, legs sprawled out in front of him, face breaking out into a warm smile.
V fidgeted with her jacket. “Yeah, I… dunno, actually. Was just in the area, thought I’d say hi to you and Misty.”
Partially true, V thought to herself. She’d been on a supply run around Night City, and as she’d passed Misty’s shop, seeing the familiar neon sign shining in the dark, something had tugged at her heart. There had been something that had bloomed within her…. The need for a welcome face, a friendly voice, something to ground her again, just for a moment.
“Just wanted to catch up. That a crime?”
Viktor smirked. “Not yet.” He stood up, stretching as he did so, muscles rippling under the fabric of his shirt. V caught herself staring and had to look away, pretending to be distracted by an imaginary speck of dirt on her jeans. Before long, he’d returned with another chair from the back of the clinic, and with a pair of shotglasses to boot. He pulled a bottle off the shelf above his desk, uncorking it and pouring him and V both a measure as they both settled down opposite each other.
“You’ve developed some bedside manner… a chair for your patients now? That’s something.”
“You’re not a patient. You’re a friend. Or are you here for some new chrome?”
V laughed and shook her head, raising her glass to clink it heavily against his before throwing back the shot. It tasted like cough medicine, and burned on the way down. Perfect. “No, I…. jeez, Vik, just take the compliment.”
“For a chair? Cut the bullshit, V. What’s the talk? It’s been too long.” His smile dropped slightly for that last sentence, a growl of concern surfacing through his usual relaxed drawl.
V hesitated, bit her lip. She didn’t know how to answer. With Jackie gone, Misty and Viktor were two of the very few people left in Night City who she could trust. Was it enough to say she just wanted to see him?
“Nothing. Everything.”
He chuckled. “Want to tell me about it while I look you over?”
V’s insides froze. She’d been afraid of this — so afraid, in fact, she’d been avoiding Viktor altogether. The last thing she wanted from anyone, but especially from him, was pity. She’d had enough of that to last a lifetime — or whatever lifetime she had left. Her new ripperdoc was good at his job, but didn’t pay attention to anything other than her cyberware specs. V knew Viktor too well — one scan and he’d know just what state her health was in. She had to distract him.
“How about a toast first?” V flashed a wry smile and raised her glass. “Here’s to the triumphant return of your best customer.”
“V, you and I both know you’re my worst customer.”
She paused, drink still in hand. “Fine, fine… well, I’m your best-looking customer, at least.”
His eyebrows raised briefly before he flashed that lopsided grin of his — the one that made V’s insides melt.
“Well,” he chuckled. “I can’t deny that.”
They downed their shots simultaneously before slamming then down, Viktor grimacing and V coughing heartily. She could feel the familiar warmth ticking at her insides as it started to hit her. They both caught sight of each other’s expressions and laughed.
They sat together drinking for the next hour, sheltered from the wild of the city outside, sharing old stories, some new ones – V doing most of the talking. She knew Viktor led a quiet life – quiet by NC standards, anyway, and that he liked it that way. As she sat in the red-lit refuge of Viktor’s clinic, V she realised she liked it too. Here was someone who actually had his shit together in a city of people who most decidedly did not have their shit together. Plus, she couldn’t deny she’d found herself on many an occasion watching the way his shirt would slide over his chest and shoulders, hinting at what was underneath, or staring at those hard, muscled arms of his while he’d worked on fitting her with new chrome. Distracted during a lull in the conversation, V’s gaze flitted over to Viktor’s left arm, resting on his table next to hers. It was rare to see it without his custom exoglove. Even with the dark track marks and puncture wounds spidering over his skin, she still had the urge to reach out and trace her fingers up along its length, curl her fingers around the hard muscle...
Viktor tapped a finger gently on the worktop, and she realised she was staring. Panicking, V did the first thing that sprang to mind. She took his hand in hers, lifting it and turning it over so his palm faced upwards. Viktor didn’t resist, but raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"What, gonna read my fortune?"
"Well, Misty seems to go in for all that kind of stuff. Maybe there's something in it."
He smirked again. "Maybe. Hot load of garbage if you ask me, but it makes her happy."
His skin was rough, hard from years of graft. But his fingers were still surprisingly delicate. Unable to help herself, she took the hand that wasn’t holding his arm up, and quickly ran her finger up the soft skin at his wrist until she settled on his palm. She felt his fingers twitch under her touch, though his expression remained stoic.
“Okay, ummm…” She said, overdramatically peering at Viktor’s hand. “Viktor Vektor… you’re gonna… uhh… get a new client who’s rammed with eddies desperate for some reinforced tendons come crawling through your door next week… spooky!”
“It’s a palm reading, not a séance, V.” He sounded stern, but she could see he was trying not to laugh.
“Yeah… you’re gonna be loaded… you’ll finally come out for drinks with me an’ Misty and you can buy us a round…”
Viktor scoffed, pulling his hand away. “Yeah, right. Don’t quit your day job, V.”
V persevered, holding out her own hand. “Okay, now do mine.”
Viktor sighed, and V could see he was trying not roll his eyes. “Really?”
“C’mon.” V insisted, holding out her hand and wiggling her fingers slowly. “Do me.”
There was a beat between the two of them, and V could see Viktor trying to process whether he’d misheard V’s sudden change in tone of voice, or whether it had been his imagination. After a long few seconds, Viktor took her hand in his. His gentleness almost made her forget this was a man who could crack someone's skull with a single blow. He began to circle her palm with his thumb as he spoke.
“V, I think… wherever you end up, whatever you end up doing, you’ll nail it. Never seen someone as determined as you. And maybe you’ll do it alone, maybe you’ll find someone to do it with you, who knows. Hell, maybe one day you might even settle down. But you’ve got a bright future ahead of you V, I know it.”
Viktor was so sincere, his voice warm with genuine fondness, that to her shame, V started to feel tears well up in her eyes.
“Hey, woah.” Vik muttered, grasping her hand in hers properly. “Did I say something wrong?”
V shook her head, frantically scrubbing tears away with her other hand. “No, no. Just…”
Oh, Vik. She wanted to say. I fuckin’ wish I had a long and happy life to look forward to. With everyone. With you.
“I want my life to have meant something.”
Viktor paused, taken aback. V realised that although she’d thought about this many times before, it wasn’t something she’d ever said out loud – at least, not to Viktor.
Viktor shook his head slightly, regaining his composure. “Forget the palm-reading bullshit. Your life means something to me right now, if that’s worth anything.” He said, letting go of her hand and giving her a soft knock on the shoulder. “Shit, you know I’m no good at this touchy-feely stuff. Why so glum? I thought we were meant to be drinking to your triumphant return.”
“Guess I’m still taking some time to process everything that happened. But thanks, Vik, really. That means a lot though, you sayin’ that.”
“I’m serious, V. I don’t know how I’d get by without you. Seeing your face brightens up my day, I mean it.”
V laughed, shaking off her melancholy. “Honestly? Same. It’s good to see your face again.” Letting go of his arm, V raised her hand, resting her palm deliberately, softly, against Viktor's cheek. His skin was rough, scarred. He smiled slightly, idly raising his own hand, and V felt the whisper-light touch of his fingers grazing against hers.
Viktor was not a man she'd call beautiful. He wasn't even someone she'd call particularly handsome. Striking, yes, but not winning any model of the year awards anytime soon. And yet… there was something magnetic about him which stirred feelings in her that not a lot of other people did. Her gaze wandered down to the line of his mouth, and desire welled in her as she imagined herself stroking her thumb over the curve of his lips. She thought better of it. This way, it could still be construed as an overly-friendly drunken gesture - if only to save face. But the way he traced his fingers along the back of her hand, holding her gaze, they both knew it was more than that.
V moved her thumb, and traced it, trembling, over the scar on Viktor’s chin. As she did so, she felt Viktor’s hand press against hers, holding her steady. For the briefest of moments, their eyes locked. Looking back, V knew that was the beginning of the end. She could have pretended this was all still friendly, and up until now she might have convinced herself it was, but right now, she had her thumb curling around his mouth, and he had his eyes locked on hers, and they both knew what was happening.
V had to pull herself away, distract herself. She stood up, running her hand through her hair as she forced a laugh, her eyes wandering up to the ceiling, her gaze sweeping around the basement, looking at the red strip lights with feigned interest as if she hadn’t been here a thousand times before, looking everywhere except at the man sitting in front of her. “Sorry to come here and bum you out.”
Viktor laughed softly, folding his arms, leaning back away from her. “It’s fine, kid. Anytime you want to come bother me, I’m here. You know that.”
V’s lip curled, instinctively. She knew he meant it as a term of affection, but dropping the word kid right now felt… well, it felt like he was doing the same thing she was. Putting distance between them.
The sudden movement of standing up was making her head spin. With a twinge of fear, V realised it wasn’t just from the alcohol. She knew this feeling – the loss of sensation, the grey creeping in at the edges of her vision – she was about to black out. She tried to grab the table but missed as her legs buckled underneath her, and was vaguely aware of Viktor springing to his feet, thrusting out an arm to grab her, before she hit the floor.
Next thing she knew, she was on the operating chair, Viktor standing over her. She pulled herself up, and he stepped back slightly to give her some space. All traces of his earlier easy cheerfulness had completely vanished.
“I gotta deal with this shit again with you, huh.” He looked away, shaking his head. “And how long were you planning on keeping this hidden from me, exactly? Christ, V, why didn’t you say something?”
Glancing to her left, V could see a screen with her biometrics on it. He’d scanned her – of course he had. Shit. V couldn’t answer him. She could practically feel the gulf between them widening.
"You weren't planning on telling me at all, were you?"
“I didn’t want you to know, Vik,” she muttered weakly.
“I thought this was all done with. Didn’t you get that biochip dealt with? Wasn’t that the point? What the hell happened, V, if we’re just back to this again –"
“You don’t think I know that?” V snapped back, almost throwing herself out the chair. Though she landed on her feet, she wobbled unsteadily before righting herself, and Viktor’s cold fury broke for a moment as he instinctively took half a step forward, his arm half out as if to catch her.
“I fought so hard to get rid of that damn engram, and for what? To get told I’m gonna die anyway. It was for nothing. It was all for – for nothing.” She said, her voice breaking on the last word, turning her face away so Viktor couldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes. It was the cruellest thing – to have been given hope, only for it to have been snatched away again.
“Oh fuck, Vik, I don’t want to die.” V sobbed, tears finally flowing freely down her face. Head bowed, she felt Viktor’s hand on her shoulder. She tried to lift her gaze from the floor, but could barely see him through tear-stained eyes.
“I… I’m…”
Her sobbing gave way to a pitiful, keening cry, a howl of desperation as she lifted her hands to cover her face. In the next moment, she felt Viktor’s arms around her, and she lost the last of her control, burying her face into his chest, flinging her arms around him, clutching at him, not caring that her nails were digging in through his shirt.
“It’s ok, kid. It’ll be ok.” She felt Viktor’s voice more than she heard it, his low rumbling drawl vibrating through her as they stood together, one hand at her back, the other stroking the back of her head with surprising gentleness. They both stood like that for a while, arms around each other, bodies pressed together, swaying almost imperceptibly on the spot like two dancers waiting for the curtain to fall.
Eventually, V felt Viktor stir, gently prising her away from him. He guided her back towards the operating chair, where she hoisted herself up shakily, pulling up the armrest so she could let her legs swing freely over the side. Viktor stood over her, arms crossed, expression inscrutable.
“V, look at me.”
V sighed. “I’m tired. I’m just so tired, Vik… of all of this…” she could feel herself slumping over, hands instinctively reaching up to cover her face. Suddenly, Vik’s hands were on her shoulders, propping her up.
“Hey! Eyes on me.”
Reluctantly, V lifted her head to look at him. Viktor was bent down slightly to get a better look at her, his bright eyes roving behind his glasses.
“I can’t imagine how tired you must be, kid, but you can’t give up now. You’re a fighter. I’ve seen you fight harder than anyone. And you forget, you’ve got me in your corner along with everyone else.” His voice softened, and he straightened up, crooking a finger under V’s chin as he did so, his thumb grazing across her cheek.
“You’ve overcome worse odds before. Arasaka tech that’s way over my head is one thing, but this is different. I can’t give you a magic cure, but we can work on managing your condition, slowing it – maybe indefinitely. And you know me – you trust me, don’t you? You know I wouldn’t give you empty hope. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t think you had a fighting chance.”
He crossed his arms, glancing idly over at the screen to his right, muttering to himself. “You should be on a course of IVIg infusions for a start. That should at least help with the autoimmune reaction. I’ll have to call in a few favours, but I should be able to get some in early next week…” He swiped the screen away, walked back over to his desk, rummaging around for something.
“Do you have any of those blockers left I gave you? They’ll help. But you’ll have to take them regularly, not just when you feel like it.”
V shook her head, forgetting Viktor couldn’t see her. When he didn’t hear a reply, he glanced over his shoulder to check on her. V cast her gaze downwards, shaking her head again slightly. He saw her reaction and straightened up from his desk, striding towards the back of the clinic where V heard clattering for a few moments along with a few muttered curse words before he returned, bottle in hand as he walked over to her.
“Once daily. Here. It’s all I’ve got at the moment, but I can get these in easy. No need to worry.” He tossed the bottle to her, and she reached out, fumbling the catch.
“Easy there. Ah, sorry.” Suddenly, Viktor’s hands were holding hers, steadying her grip, his hands easily encompassing hers, fingers curling and interlacing with her own. V stared down at the bottle in her hand. It was much smaller than the one he’d given her before, in a bright blue casing. They both stood there for a moment, hands clasped together for slightly too long, before V quietly slid the bottle into the inside pocket of her jacket.
“Vik.”
Viktor’s gaze had been following the bottle, making sure she tucked it away. His eyes snapped back to V. “Huh?”
“…Thanks.”
A smile tugged at Vik’s mouth before he let out a sigh. “Sorry for snapping at you back there. Christ, you had me worried, collapsing on me like that.” He placed a hand on her shoulder once more, thumb idly drawing circles over her collarbone. “I care about you, V… I just want you to be safe. You know if anyone deserves the world, it’s you.”
For once in her life, V didn’t know how to respond. She had no snarky remark, no witty comeback. For the second time that evening, Vik’s earnestness caught her off guard. She didn’t know what to say. So instead, she let her feelings take over. She reached up, took Viktor's face in both hands, and before she had time to think too much about it, kissed him.
He tensed a little in surprise, but didn’t move away. V’s kiss was gentle, but long enough to make her intentions clear. When she broke away, she moved back just enough so she could read his expression, his face still cradled in her hands. She was close enough to see his brilliant, bright eyes behind his tinted glasses, wide with shock for a moment before she saw his gaze flit down to her mouth, where it lingered. She brushed her fingertips over the curve of his ear. It’s ok, she wanted to say. It’s ok, Vik.
Viktor’s arms were suddenly around her, pulling her in, drawing her back to him with quiet desperation. Before V could process what was happening, Viktor’s arms were wrapped around her so tightly she could barely move, and his mouth was against hers, properly this time, kissing her so deeply that she felt it in her core. V’s hands were against his chest, his heart beating a fast but steady rhythm under her palms. He smelled faintly of sweat and rubbing alcohol. Viktor leaned hard into her, forcing her to grip the edge of the chair with one hand to stop herself from being pushed backwards. He let out a soft, involuntary growl of pleasure that vibrated through the both of them as his mouth skimmed along the soft curve of her neck, and V could feel hot desire blooming between her legs as he caressed the line of her jaw with a calloused thumb, fingers dancing over her neck before taking her face in both hands as he kissed her again.
V felt herself melt under his touch as the rest of the world faded away. She slid her hands up over his shoulders, brushing at the nape of his neck as her fingers found his necklace, tracing the string down along his open shirt collar, slipping underneath the fabric, brushing his warm skin with her fingertips. Viktor sighed into her mouth, curling one hand around the back of her neck, and resting the other at her back, stroking her with a tenderness that belied his rough exterior. He moved down past the line of her jaw, hot breath trailing against her skin in a way that made her shiver before he came to rest in the warm hollow of her collarbone. V wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him into her, pressing herself into him as if trying to fuse their bodies together. He matched her movements with slow, deliberate pressure until a low, quiet moan escaped V’s lips as they parted. Viktor let out a quiet purr of satisfaction before lifting his head to rest his face against V’s, the faintest trace of stubble grazing her cheekbone.
Then, V took his hand, guiding it between her thighs. Big mistake.
For a moment, she felt him go along with it, his fingers sliding eagerly against the thin leather fabric, but then he jerked away suddenly like he’d been stung. She pulled back to look at him. His head was bowed, and when he spoke his voice was low, quivering with barely suppressed emotion.
"No more, V. Whatever you think you want right now, it isn’t this. We’ve both had too much to drink, and you… your emotions are running high right now. I get it.” His expression was stricken. He waved his hand in V’s direction as he covered his face with the other, pushing his glasses out of the way.
"Vik, it doesn't matter - "
“It’s fine,” he muttered, letting out a humourless laugh under his breath as he turned away. “I’ll just go back to acting like I’m not sweet on you.” There was a desperate bitterness in his tone as he said it, his voice barely audible. V wasn’t even sure if he meant for her to hear. “That way, I don't have to pretend you'd actually go for a guy my age if you were sober.”
“Viktor.” V insisted, using his full name for once. She saw him freeze, but he didn’t turn around. “It doesn’t matter if I’m sober or not. I want this –"
He shook his head. "No. Don't want to hear it, kid. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Mine’s half over.”
“Vik, seriously? I could be dead in six months.”
That sent him spinning back round to face her, jabbing at his own chest with a finger. “Not if I have anything to do with it, goddammit! But right now, I have a duty of care. My feelings don't factor into this –"
“So you admit it. You do have feelings for me.”
Viktor visibly grimaced, knowing he’d been careless. “Shit. No. Listen, kid, this isn’t good for either of us –"
“Fuck, Vik, stop callin’ me that. I’m not a kid. Why don’t you just say what this is really about, huh?” V said, getting to her feet.
Viktor folded his arms across his chest as he squared up to her, his voice hardened with that familiar steely anger that she’d seen earlier. She was suddenly very much aware that she was standing opposite 200 pounds of hard muscle, except now it didn’t seem quite such a good thing.
“Christ, V, I’m twice your age. Old enough to be your father. I’m only going to say this once – leave now before I make you leave. Go home, sober up. Promise me you’ll take those pills.” With that, the fight seemed to leave him. He slumped onto his desk stool, covering his face with a hand again. “V, look, let’s just forget about this and focus on you getting better. This – this was a mistake. I’m sorry.” He hung his head, avoiding her gaze.
It hurt, and she knew he was doing it on purpose. It didn’t soften the blow at all. A physical blow from him she could take, although she knew he’d never dare. A wound like this cut much deeper. Just drive the knife right home why don’t you, she thought. “A… mistake?” Her voice wavered dangerously. She felt like an idiot. Shaking her head, she finally gave in. The collapse in his energy seemed to have drained it out of her too.
“Fine. Have it your way.” She muttered, her voice close to breaking, mind reeling with confusion. She turned on her heel, slamming the gate behind her, not wanting Vik to see the hot tears welling up in her eyes again. She stamped up the stairs from the basement out into the alley, not caring that she was acting like a bratty teen, before pausing for a moment in the cool night air, taking in a few deep, shaky breaths. The rejection stung, but this certainly wouldn't have been the first time she'd made a move on someone and been rebuffed. Those people, however, hadn't kissed her back.
She clenched her fist for a moment, a new resolve suddenly welling up in her, pushing her to march back down there and say something to Viktor – she didn’t know what, only that she couldn’t leave it like this. But as she turned back around, she heard the door to the clinic sliding shut, and was greeted with the sight of the light turning from green to red as it locked. The sound of the door slamming ricocheted around the alleyway, almost unbearably loud in the small space. It was the knockout blow.
V stayed in that alley for a long while, sitting on the top step, staring at the door, half-hoping it would spring open again, that she’d see Viktor’s figure silhouetted in the doorway, leaning to one side, arms folded, hint of a smile on his face, calling her back down. When she realised it was beginning to get dark, however, she let out one last, shivering breath, covered her face in her hands, and hauled herself to her feet. She walked back to her Watson penthouse on autopilot, barely paying attention to her surroundings, but arrived without incident. Night City was too busy and disinterested to notice a girl with a tear-stained face dragging her feet along the sidewalk.
When she finally got in, she peeled off her jacket, tossing it away, not even bothering to hang it up. There was a tiny rattle as it hit the floor. The sound broke her out of her stupor, and she reached down, rummaging around in the inside pocket before fishing out the pill bottle. She stared at it for a few seconds, held between thumb and forefinger, before squeezing it in her fist, wanting to feel the hard plastic cracking under her grip. No use.
“…Shit,” she muttered, at last relenting. She staggered upstairs and sat down heavily on her bed, half-heartedly kicking off her shoes, staring at the bright blue bottle in her hand. She ran her thumb slowly up and down the length, before silently pressing the bottle to her lips, the last of her tears trailing down her face as she closed her eyes. Slowly, she lay back on the bed, fingers still loosely curled around the bottle until she finally slipped into a restless sleep, plagued with red-lit dreams and the memory of warm lips on hers.