Chapter Text
Viktor Vektor never decided not to have kids. It just sort of happened.
Night City never was the most supportive place for someone to raise a family, Viktor was no stranger to the rough side of the streets. From his early career in boxing to his arguably more bloody job as a ripper doc, it never really felt like the right time to settle down. Now grey hairs have begun to hang around his temples, and with no one in his life to persuade him into it, he’s comfortable with the fact he’ll most likely never have a child. To many sharp objects in the clinic anyway, plus they’d probably just ruin his boxing memorabilia.
Life was always full of surprises though, especially in Night City. It’s a normal fall day, the warmth of summer finally starting to be pushed aside by a chill on the wind, and Viktor was ready to lock up after a lock day of patching up mercs. He just needs to finish cleaning up and he’s ready to go.
Being a ripper doc is not for someone squeamish. Today’s case is no exception. With powerful cleaners Vik wipes down every surface of his workplace, making sure to get any blood stain from his previous patient. He sweeps, mops, whistling as he works, and soon he’s almost done. Finally all he has left is to take out the trash
He exits the clinic, absentmindedly thinking of his plans for tonight. It’s not much in particular, maybe he’ll order a nice takeout and watch the boxing match. Suddenly, he’s broken out of his thoughts from a noise coming from the alley. Bottles clinking and paper shuffling, it’s coming from his garbage can around the corner.
“Hey!” he shouts, following the sound of rummaging.. Those damn rats, he thinks as he turns the corner, or maybe some chrome junkie trying to find some spare parts in a ripper docs trash. He’s ready to confront something, so imagine his surprise when instead of either of those possibilities he locks eyes with a child, mid digging through his dumpster.
The kid’s eyes widen as Viktor approaches them. The first thing he notices is how dirty the kid is, dirt and small scratches covering their face. Their clothes, patched up jeans and a way to big hoodie, are no cleaner either. Their hair is messy, dark, and cut close to their head. The kid stumbles back from the garbage, their eyes flicking around the alley. They look as though they’re about to bolt, but when they realize the only way out is past Viktor, almost quicker than he can comprehend, they pull a small pocket knife out of their hoodie.
“Stay back!” the kid shouts, and Viktor is so caught off guard that he does indeed take a step away. Their voice is clearly prepubescent, but with an unmistakable Night City accent. Of course, no other place would have children running around with knives.
“Hey, hey, kid.” he says, raising his hands up slightly, trying not to spook the kid. They continue to point the blade at him, their hands surprisingly stable for someone so young. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“What do you want then?” They demand.
Uncharacteristic of himself, he feels a part of his chest constrict. This kid is tiny. Surely they’re no older than 10. What kind of circumstances would cause them to be digging in the trash?
“This is my clinic.” He says, gesturing to the building behind the two of them, “You’re rooting through my property. My turn for a question. What are you doing out here?”
“None of your business!” They squeak with as much menace as a child can manage. “Now-” their voice shakes for just a moment, before hardening quickly again, “Let me go or else.”
Viktor’s eyes glace at the kid's knife before looking back at them. In any other circumstances he’d shoo the kid away, maybe scare them a bit to make sure they don’t come back. But… God he can’t shove that weird feeling in his chest away. His mind flashes back to a lifetime ago, when he was a little brat roaming the street of Night City. He grimaces, his ration and logic being overwhelmed by his emotions as he reaches into his pocket, barely sure of what he’s trying to do. He rummages for a moment, hand grazing past coins and receipts before finding what he was looking for, his half eaten bag of sweets.
He pulls out the candy, holding it out in front of him slightly. “I don’t want anything from you kid, just don’t like seeing people go through my stuff.” He holds the bag out a little further.
“Hungry?”
The kid looks at him, a mix of intrigue and suspicion. “Do you think I'm stupid? Why would I trust some old guy trying to give me candy” they sass back with a condescending tone. Shit, he thinks, This is why he’s never had kids.
“Hey, I admit maybe this is a bad look. Here, I swear it’s good.” He says, taking a candy from the bag and eating it.
The kid continues to eye him. He can tell they’re conflicted, turning over the possibilities in their mind.
“What's the catch?” they ask, narrowing their eyes.
“Why would there be a catch?”
“There’s always a catch. Like I said, I ain’t stupid.
Viktor frowns, what kind of things has this kid experienced for them to be so wary of everything?
“Fine,” he says. “You get the candy, and in exchange you answer some easy questions for me. Deal?”
The kids quiet for a moment, the cogs in their mind clearly turning. Finally they nod, and as quick as a flash they snatch the bag from him. “Deal.”
They waste no time enjoying their sweets. With one last look at Viktor to ensure he’s not going to try anyway, they stash their knife and hoist themselves onto the top of the dumpster to eat their treat.
He can’t help but chuckle at the change in demeanor from them. No matter how street-harden the kid was, he figured they’d be persuaded by candy.
“Okay. Now that we’re on better terms, first question. What's your name kid?”
“...V” They say after a second of hesitation, shoving a handful of candy in their mouth.
“V…” Viktor repeats. Weird name. “Is that like short for anything? Vince, Violet, Valorie?” He rambles off a few names.
“No.” V responds sharply. “It’s V. And I’m a boy, y’know.”
“Got it. Okay V, next question. You got parents? A guardian of some sort?”
Not the most delicate way to broach that topic he can admit, but hey, he’s a ripper doc, not a counselor.
If V was offended by the question he gave no indication, “Nah.” He responded with a mouth full of candy.
Viktor frowns. “How long have you been on your own?”
“A while.”
“What's a while?”
V shrugs, “I dunno, a while.”
“Okay then.” he says, figuring that's as far as he was gonna get with that. “Do you have a place to stay?”
“Sometimes.”
Goddamn, this kid was stubborn. Still, despite his sassiness, Vik couldn’t help but feel a sort of fondness for him.
He must be getting soft in his old age.
“What counts as ‘sometimes?’”
“Well sometimes the city takes me and puts me in foster care.” He makes a face as he says this. “I don’t like it there though. Most of them have too many rules, and some of them are mean. None of them even let me keep my knife.”
“Heard that the system is pretty shitty.” He says to the kid, though he’s pretty sure the knife thing is valid. Still, he feels for the Kid. “Where do you stay when you’re not in Foster care?”
“Hmm, I’m really good at finding things, and I can fit in a lot of places adults can’t. Sometimes people try to give me a place but usually it doesn’t last long, or they turn out mean too.” V’s tone is so weirdly neutral, like he’s telling Viktor something every child experiences. A pang of sadness shoots through him, before V quickly interrupts. “Y’know, you ask a lot of questions, guy.”
He tries to push aside the feeling, “Yeah, well I gotta say you’re a pretty interesting kid, y’know. Not everyday I get a knife pulled on me trying to take out my own trash.”
V shrugs, as if that's something Vik should have expected. He reaches into the bag of candy, only to frown when he realizes it’s empty.
“Hey kid,” Viktor starts, not even sure what he’s trying to do, “Where are, uh, do you have a place you’re staying right now?” He looks up, the sun just starting to dip below the Night City skyline. He can’t imagine the thought of the kid walking around at night. God knows what kind of people or things that he could run into. He knows that V’s clearly pretty tough, but still, he's just a child…
V eyes him, suspicion once again brewing in him. “Why?”
“It's getting late, I'm sure the streets aren’t very safe at night for a kid. Hell, I’m an adult and there's some places I won’t go. I’m just wondering- if you had a safe place to sleep tonight,”
God, what is he doing?
“I got a place you could stay for the night, if you want.”
V blinks, clearly caught off guard by that. “What’s the catch?” He asks, guards back up.
“No catch.”
“There’s always a catch.” V response, his face more serious than any child should ever have to be, “Like I said, I’m not stupid, nothing is ever free.”
Vik frown, clearly whatever rapport that he tried to build wasn’t enough. He racks his mind for a moment to try and think how to convince him.
“Okay.” He says after a few seconds, an idea popping into his head, “How about another deal? You can stay at my place for tonight, and in exchange you help me out at the clinic tomorrow.”
V looks at him, clearly thinking over this deal, “what kinda stuff do you do?”
“I’m a ripperdoc, so I fix people up who can’t or don’t wanna go with trauma team, and I upgrade people’s cyberware.”
With that V eyes light up. “Wait, you work with cyberware?” he says, and despite how good his composure is, Viktor can tell that he’s piqued his interest.
He chuckles at the kid, “Sure do. Tomorrow you could take a look at some of my stuff if you want.”
V bites his lips, clearly conflicted between his instincts not to trust strangers and his child curiosity. He scrunches up his face, as if kicking himself for his choice, before looking back at Viktor.
“Deal.”