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“V!”
Johnny was suddenly pushed back by the force of Kerry slamming into him. Hesitantly, almost as if out of practice, he raised his hands to return the hug.
Perhaps there was something to what Kerry had told V back at his apartment, in what felt like a different life.
A better one.
Christ, how the fuck was Johnny supposed to do this?
“Took you a while to reach out, but I'm so glad to see you again,” Kerry said, softer than Johnny ever heard him. V just had that effect on people- wherever he went, things were better. If he walked through a barren wasteland, flowers would spring to life beneath his feet.
Kerry leaned in, then, going for a kiss, and Johnny had to push him away. He tried to be as delicate as he could, because that's what he thought V would've done. But he wasn't V, he was all rough edges and harsh, sharp ends. He didn't shove Kerry, but it was a close thing.
The pang of pain in the hollow space V left in his heart felt like it wasn't his own.
“Uh… everything okay?”
“I- Look, I'm sorry, Ker,” Johnny started, only to see his friend's face fall. “V isn't home right now.”
“Ah, Johnny,” Kerry stepped back, quickly as if Johnny's touch physically burnt. It may as well have. He left the door open as he walked into his tacky, pretentious mansion. “Coulda said something sooner. Good to know the two of you are back, though. What do you need?”
Johnny walked in after him, taking a deep breath. He didn't realize he’d begun toying with the bullet pendant ‘round his neck.
They were silent as they walked to the living room, where Kerry poured himself a glass of tequila.
“Make me one too?” Johnny asked without thinking. “Please?”
Kerry glanced at him, the look in his eyes unreadable as they come, but wordlessly did what Johnny asked.
“So, what's up?” Kerry finally broke the silence, tone somewhat accusatory. “Any reason in particular why V couldn't come meet me himself?”
Fucking Christ.
No regrets was more than a motto to Johnny, it was a way of life. But now, as he looked at Kerry with memories that were not his own flicking through his mind - quiet nights spent watching dumb sitcoms im bed, long conversations at rooftops when the sun first peeked out to kiss the sky, lunch dates squeezed into busy schedules, countless hugs and kisses exchanges as though he was witnessing a lifetime rather than a few mere weeks - he regretted ever bringing up the idea of storming Arasaka HQ with Rogue.
Christ Almighty, he regretted it so much.
“Well?”
“He's… not around anymore.”
Great. Way to fuckin’ go, Silverhand.
Kerry crossed his arms over his chest, optics gleaming with crystalline unshed tears. He was swirling the glass he was still holding in his hand. Or he was trembling so bad it did that on its own accord.
“Meaning?”
Johnny, once again, took a deep breath. He clenched his fists at his sides, barely able to contain his anger.
“Meaning I fucking killed him, Kerry. The damage had progressed too far, V became a stranger in his own body. I couldn't-” he paused, voice cracking. It never did that before. “I couldn't fucking save him, Ker. I'm so sorry.”
The glass slipped from Kerry’s hand as his arms fell limp at his sides, shattering on the polished floor.
“No,” he said, swaying on his feet. He gripped the minibar for support. “If this is your idea of a fucking prank-”
“Do I look like I'm laughing, Kerry?” Johnny yelled, taking a step forward. “I don't have a good track record, sure, but this isn't something I'd joke about. Ever.”
“But we…” Kerry started, eyes darting around as though V was simply hiding somewhere and would pop out from around the corner any second. “I still…”
He fell silent, mind running too quickly to articulate a proper thought. Johnny couldn't say he didn't get the feeling.
“He asked me to relay a message,” Johnny said. Another stab of pain in that empty, V-shaped space in his heart. As though it was V himself who wanted to reach out, to comfort his lover. Johnny didn't even notice when he ended up at his friend's side, arm on his shoulder. “Wanted to record it for ya, but we didn't have the time or means to do that. So lil’ old Johnny will have to do.”
Kerry made a strangled noise, something between a choked sob and a laugh.
In the sunset lights threaded with the afterglow of ever-present technicolor neons, Johnny could see the tears streaming down his face.
“What’d he want to say?” he asked, voice trembling.
“That despite only knowing you for such a short time, he felt as though he’s spent his whole life by his side,” Johnny started, squeezing Kerry’s shoulder. Whether to reassure him or himself, he couldn't fucking tell. Onto the worst part, he thought. “That he loves you, and will love you after he dies. That you were the best thing to ever happen to him.”
Kerry hid his face in his hands, not bothering to hide his sobs.
“You have no idea,” he choked out. “No fucking clue how much it hurts, hearing those words in his voice and not knowing it's not him. Knowing he won't fucking hear me say it back.”
Something itched in the corners of Johnny's eyes, something annoying and painful and ugly. He quickly rubbed it away, whatever it was, with his free hand.
“For what it's worth,” he started, voice quiet and low. “I'm really sorry.”
Johnny couldn't recall the last time he said those words and truly meant it. But he did now. From the bottom of what little of his heart remained.
Kerry sniffled, lower lip still trembling.
“Yeah,” Kerry said. “Listen, could you maybe-”
“I'll leave you alone, yeah,” he said, cutting Kerry off. “Just… gimme a call if you need me, alright?”
Kerry nodded, and with one final squeeze to his shoulder Johnny left. The broken glass crunched softly beneath his feet as he walked to the door.
When it closed behind him, even the soundproofing couldn't muffle Kerry’s agonized wailing.
And deep down Johnny knew this was the last time they'd ever talk.
~
Hello everyone! Please welcome Kerry Eurodyne, Night City legend and rockstar extraordinaire, for his first interview in almost a year! It's been a month since the release of your newest album, and it's already broken the record as your bestselling one yet! How do you feel about it?
Despite the pr-perfect smile, Johnny could see the faraway look in his eyes. The raw pain of misery, the heartbreak of losing the one you loved.
“I'm glad. Truly. This album is by far the one that's most important to me.”
Speaking of - what was the inspiration for it? A lot of fans have found the name of it, “V”, a very intriguing choice. Got a comment?
His smile faltered for a fraction of a second. But then it was back, albeit sadder than before.
“It was named after someone very dear to me. Someone I loved. Still do.”
The interviewer, what's-their-name, looked taken aback. For a moment it looked like they didn't quite know what to do with that, what to ask. But in the end, they chuckled.
Johnny wanted to somehow dive into the screen and punch that fake smile off their face.
Wow, how romantic! I'm sure your fans are thrilled to see this new side of you.
The smile faded from Kerry’s lips. He looked exhausted and angry at the same time. Like he wanted to be anywhere else. Like he didn't want to do this anymore.
“I didn't do it for them. I did it for him. The songs tell our story, they're a memoir of the time we spent together. Time we didn't have nearly enough of.”
The tension was so thick Johnny could feel it all the way from the other side of the screen.
We're terribly sorry for your loss, Kerry.
Kerry rolled his eyes. The movement was subtle, sure, but visible to a keen eye. The interviewer looked uncomfortable as fuck as they continued on. Johnny didn't really pay attention anymore.
He simply sent one message to Kerry; where to find V’s niche in the North Oak Columbarium.
~
V
Dreamer.
That's it. All that was left of him, aside from a body that was no longer his own.
And Kerry didn't even have anything to leave behind. No mementos, nothing to remember V by- aside from a sleep-soft jumper he'd left at Kerry’s place.
But that wasn't something he could bear to part with.
“Sometimes, I wake up in the middle o’the night,” he started, a quiet whisper. Strangely, he didn't want anyone but V to hear him. Silverhand came back- Maybe V will, too. By some miracle. “And I turn to look at you, to hold you close until the panic fades. And when you're not there I want to call, because I know you'd pick up even if you were blasting some poor bastard full of lead. But then I remember who will pick up when I do, and I…”
He paused, fresh tears welling up in his eyes. He hated crying. No good for his skin, the beauty experts told him ages ago. But he felt powerless to do anything else.
“I think part of me started planning the rest of our lives together, y’know? Even before you- before you left, I would imagine it so vividly some of it feels like memories. I wanted so bad to make them a reality.’
He looked down at his trembling hands, at the golden rings he wore. His gaze landed on the one on his middle finger; a signet encrusted with precious stones, real instead of synthetic and all the more expensive.
V had found it on the Seamurai and klepped it. He gave it to Kerry some time later- left it on the bedside table in Kerry’s mansion, with a note explaining where it came from and why he wanted Kerry to have it. V didn't stick around until he woke up that day, having needed to go to Viktor for his checkup.
The tears spilled, hot and branding, rivers of flame on dry skin.
He opened the niche, revealing the pendant V never took off.
He slipped the ring off his finger, watching it gleam in the faint moonlight.
“If we had more time, if I had you by my side a bit longer, I would've asked you proper,” he said, staring at the ring. Funny, it almost had a fiery kind of glow to it. As though it had absorbed some of the flames the Seamurai went down in. “Made it a real nice date, too. Had a few ideas already.”
Silence.
That's all that answered him, engulfed him. He was drowning in it, suffocating, unable to come back up for air. Like a weight had been strapped to his ankles pulling him down to the darkest depths; the weight of a familiar body that he remembered as warmth.
When did the nights get so cold?
“I miss you so much, V,” Kerry finally spoke after a while. What else could he say? “I think you would've said yes. I hope. Most of all, I wish you were still around so I could know for sure, one day.”
He placed the ring in the niche and it closed with a soft hiss.
“I love you, V,” Kerry said. His voice was shaking, higher in pitch. “Guess I- I'll see ya when I see ya.”
Maybe he'd bring flowers, the next time he came by.
He slipped a golden band off his middle and, twirling it absent-mindedly, put it on his ring finger.
He had to fight the urge to press his fingertips to the cool concrete as he turned to walk away.