Chapter Text
V feels the ringing first. A vibration in her head that travels down her skull and into her ears. It hurts like hell, but feels like a dream compared to what comes next.
“V? You in there?” Viktor’s voice breaks through. He sounds so far away, and like he’s screaming straight into her eardrum at the same time.
She curls onto her side and covers her ears as best she can. Her arms feel like dead weights, numb. After a second her eyes roll open.
It feels way too bright, everything is fuzzy. Her eyes burn as she squints up at Viktor.
“My… head.” She slurs. Her mouth feels slow, swollen. She smacks her lips experimentally a few times, drags her tongue over them.
“How ya feeling?” Viktor asks after a few seconds. He sounds… nervous. Not good.
“I dunno… something’s not right Vik. I’m seeing shit.” Her voice waivers as she speaks, the fear building as her vision flickers like a shitty holo.
It takes a while, but V manages to drag it all out of him. She’s got a fifty year old parasite stuck in her brain, eating away at it. She begs Vik, almost hysterical, from fear or pain, she can’t tell. He can fix her, right? He’s the best there is. He looks so sad, she thinks he’s gonna start crying too in a second. Bottom line though, she’s dying.
She falls back against the bed, fingers raking through her hair and down her face and she tries to piece her scattered brain together. Vik goes on talking, trying to comfort her, or apologize, or something. Doesn’t matter, V’s not listening anymore.
Dexter Deshawn, the drone, the suits, the chip, the mad dash from the hotel, the blood, the heist...
The heist. Slamming Delemaines door, screeching that she’d made it to the location, now fucking drive, get him to Viktor’s before it too late. Watching the car take Jackie-or his body, she had no goddamn clue at this point-away before she hobbled into Dexter’s hotel room alone.
Finish it. She told herself. Finish it, he’ll be okay. Finish this, and he’ll be right as rain by the time you get to Vik’s.
V sits bolt upright, yanking her hands away from her face. The sudden motion sends her tipping sideways off the cot, arms grasping pitifully at nothing. Viktor lurches, manages to grab her before she slams her newly healed skull into the cement flooring.
“Jackie? Vik, where’s Jackie?! I sent him here, after, is he..?” She's nearly babbling, her vision spinning again as she tries to get out her question. As long as she can get ‘Jackie’ and ‘where’ out though, she’s pretty sure he’ll get her meaning.
Viktor grips her shoulders, gently, but firm enough to keep her from jumping off the bed again. The old man straightens his glasses and looks her in the face, checking to make sure she’s not going into some kind of fit again before answering. Her eyes are huge, shiny and red-rimmed, the catlike pupils seem to almost vibrate with her agitation. Her cheeks are sunken, her lips pale and cracked. Seeing her awake and alert like this makes him think he should’ve led with Jackie’s status.
“He’s fine, kid. Told him to wait upstairs while I woke you up, in case you had a bad reaction to the… engram.” He explains in a clear voice, unsure how stable he should consider her right this second.
“He is?” Her voice shakes with a weird mix of desperation and hope, like she almost doesn’t believe him. The stims in her system make everything feel like they’re moving too fast now that she’s awake.
Vik cracks a smile at her. “Course he is, for the most part anyways. Still got a few stitches, but he’s past the worst of it by now.”
V leans over his shoulder, craning her neck towards the stairs. “I wanna see ‘im.”
“Figured you would. I’ll let him know you’re up and ready to head home. You just stay put.”
Vik calls him on the holo. V’s vitals are stable enough, sure, but he’s not willing to leave his possibly-manic patient alone, even for a few minutes.
“Hey Jack, she’s up. You and Misty can come on down now.”
V can’t quite make out Jackie’s response, her head’s still buzzing, but he sounds happy at least.
A few seconds later the doors swing open, and in they come.
For just a tiny, fleeting moment, V worries that this is another hallucination. That she’s still laid up on the cot, drifting in and out of the real world, and any second now they’ll flicker out of existence. But no, this is Jackie. the real and only Jackie, with his muscles and little ponytail and everything. Misty trails in behind him pushing a wheelchair, which V assumes is for her. Jackie zones in on her immediately. Without thinking, V leans out and reaches for him. Viktor starts, like he’s ready to swoop in and catch her again if necessary. It’s not.
“There she is!” Jackie nearly howls, arms outstretched as well now.
He seizes her in a tight bear hug, rocking her side to side. Her arms feel like noodles as she locks them around him, trying her best to squeeze just as tight as him. She feels his heavy hand rest on the back of her head, and a weird, half-choked laugh bubbles out of her. The pain, and fear, and her impending death; This, this moment right here, makes that all okay.
He pulls back first, the hand in her hair sliding down to hold her chin as he examines her face. He tilts it left, then right, then left again.
“Hmm…” He hums, scrutinizing.
“What?” She croaks, brow knitting together. “Somethin’ wrong?”
He lets go and a grin spreads across his face. “Nah, I was just expecting you to look more gnarly, after how Vik described it.”
V snorts and raises an eyebrow at Vik. “That bad, huh?”
“At first,” Vik shrugs. “But you’re looking a helluva lot better now, all things considered.”
“Yeah, aside from the brain-eating chip I have stuck in my head.”
Everyone goes quiet for a minute. She meant it as a joke, but it came out sounding more bitter than anything else.
“So Vik told you, huh?” Jackie asks hesitantly.
“Yep.” V chuckles humorlessly, rubbing the back of her stiff neck. “Not like he coulda hid it from me anyway. Think I’d notice sooner or later.” She rubs away the new tears brimming in her eyes, not wanting to cry anymore. Not in front of her friends.
Jackie stands beside her, concerned but with no idea how to help. His hand hovers around uselessly for a few seconds before he settles on rubbing her shoulder.
“Why don’t you get her home, Jackie?” Misty says after another silent pause, rolling the chair up to him and giving V a small, encouraging smile.
“Probably a good idea. Think the stims are starting to wear off.” V nods.
Jackie holds the chair steady for her while she slides off the cot with the help of Misty; one arm tight around her waist in case her legs give out, the other guiding V’s own heavy, clumsy hand towards the chair. She feels like a rag doll.
“See ya ‘round Viktor.” V calls over her shoulder. He’s slumped in his chair already, fiddling with the channels on his tv. But he gives her a wave, and a sad smile.
Misty sees them out. At the door, she crouches to V’s level and takes her hand, squeezing it.
“I gave Jackie some stuff that’ll help.” She says with a nod in his direction. “He can tell you about them when you wake up, okay?”
“‘Kay. Thanks Misty.” Her voice is going hoarse, probably from all the yelling and crying. Her head is going heavy again too; her own bed is sounding better and better every second.
Jackie wheels her to the car, has to practically pick her up to get her in the passenger seat. He buckles the seatbelt for her, makes sure she’s comfortable before stuffing the wheelchair in the back and climbing into the driver's seat. He starts the car before finally saying something to break the silence.
“So, how ya feeling Chica?” He asks carefully, eyes on the road.
“Tired.” She mumbles. “Head feels like it weighs a ton. Wanna lay back down.”
“Won’t take us long to get there.” He assures her. “Just relax, I’ll do all the hard shit this go around.”
V has no idea how much time has passed when she’s suddenly being gently shaken awake. Jackie’s at her open door, wheelchair at the ready again. He takes her hand, running his thumb over the back of it, before helping her sit up.
She doesn’t remember much of the trip up to her apartment. It’s a lot like waking up again, just in reverse. Everything feels heavier, and slower, and farther away as the drugs leave her system. By the time the door shuts behind them, her limbs are almost dead weight again.
Her apartment looks exactly as she’d left it. The open box of pizza on the table, her blankets in a pile at the end of her bed, all of it. She wonders idley if she’s missed her rent; if she’d wake up tomorrow with an eviction notice in her inbox. Worries that can definitely wait another day, she decides.
Jackie parks her beside the bed and plops down on it. He looks worried, she realizes.
“So, you wanna tell me how you’re really feeling now?” He prods.
V sighs. “Told you. I’m tired.”
“Híjole V, you know that’s not what I mean.”
She turns her head; looks at the posters above her bed, the drool stain on her pillow, the lone sock stuck under her mattress. Anything but him, because the second he gets a word out of her, she knows the waterworks’ll start again.
“V, c’mon.” He tries again. “Don’t bottle yourself up and pretend everything’s okay. Talk to me, Porfa.”
“S’not gonna change anything Jackie.” She mutters, dropping her eyes to her hands folded in her lap. “This thing in my head’s gonna kill me; eat away at what makes me, me, til I wake up one morning and don’t even recognize myself in the mirror. Talking ‘bout it ain’t gonna make it any better.”
Her voice is tired, lifeless; she’s already resigned herself to what’s coming, she’s just too exhausted to be angry about it right now.
“Shit V…” Jackie says softly. “Just like that? You’re not even gonna try to fight this thing?”
“I can’t fight it Jackie.” She replies, looking up sharply, voice shaking. “Did you listen to a word Viktor said? I’m dying one way or another because of this fucking chip and there’s nothing he can do to help.”
She balls her fists up, clumsily rubbing at her burning eyes. Nope, not crying in front of him. She asserts to herself. She feels stupid, childish.
“Okay, so maybe Vik’s right, he can’t help you. But there’s gotta be someone!” He says desperately as he leans down, trying to meet her gaze again. “Another ripperdoc or some corpo engineer or something! We just gotta find ‘em, V.”
“Right,” She scoffs. “Let’s say there is someone out there who can fix me. How the hell are we supposed to find them? And find ‘em before I’m wiped outta my own head? We got nothing, Jack.”
She sniffs and wipes the snot off her nose. Can’t he just let her be? Leave this shit for the morning when she can rage and scream all she wants, maybe take her bat to the dumpster down the hall til she wears herself out again. She’s trying to accept her death, damn it! At least then she can enjoy what little time she has left. Go joyriding through the desert again, get black out wasted, spend whatever eddies she has left to her name and live while she still can. Whatever Jackie thinks he’s doing, trying to give her hope, isn’t fucking helping.
“Okay, we got nothing.” He says with a single nod, and takes one of her limp hands in his. He shifts it back and forth, turns it palm-side up, fidgeting with it while he thinks. A few silent seconds later he pats it decidedly, clasping it in both of his. “So… we’ll find something. We’ll make a few calls, maybe see if Vik can get us in touch with that guy who dropped you off. You’re not outta commission yet, V. We got time.”
She stares at him, trying to decide if she wants to keep beating this dead horse, or let him win, at least for tonight. His expression is so soft, earnest. No jokes right now.
“Okay.” She finally says, nodding. She notices his posture relax, his head cocks to the side a bit, a smile starts on his lips. She rolls her eyes with a smirk. “Can I go to bed now?”
“Oh, shit, yeah. Forgot you were supposed to be getting some RnR right now.” He chuckles as he stands and stretches his back. “C’mon, vamos a meterte en.”
She tries to stand, using Jackie’s arm to hoist herself out of the wheelchair. She can’t feel shit right now, aside from the burning in her temples and the blood pounding in her ears. Don’t even have to take any steps. She tells herself. Just stand, pivot, sit back down. Her left knee buckles as soon as she puts her weight on it though, and she plops back down into the canvas seat.
“Yep, not gonna work.” She huffs, dragging her hands down her face.
Jackie stands, arms crossed, waiting with a look of mild amusement at her struggle. She tries again, pushing up from the arm rests of the chair now. It’s even less effective at getting her upright.
“Damn V, you’re gonna pull something.” He laughs. “Here, I got you.”
Without waiting for her response, he leans down, hooks one arm under her limp knees, the other under her arms, and hefts her up bridal-style. V, caught off guard, flings her arm around the back of his neck to hold on.
“Jackie! What the hell?” She cries, half in surprise, half in annoyance.
“Relax, think of me as your knight in shining armor, eh? Saving the damsel from certain doom and all that.”
She rolls her eyes. “Uh huh. So what exactly am I being saved from?”
“Oh, you know,” He chuckles with a shrug. “The embarrassment of flopping around like a fish on the floor after you faceplant.”
“Point taken.”
He sets her snuggly against the pillows, pulls the blanket up to her lap without her asking. V can feel the heat of his body leave her side as he pulls back from her. She rolls her head across the pillow to look up at him, wanting the warmth back.
“Better?” He asks.
“Mm hmm.” She mumbles. He brushes some of the hair out of her eyes when she puffs at it.
“I should get going soon, let you get your beauty sleep.” He says, a gentle, teasing tone at the end.
He goes to take a step back, give her her space. Instinctively, she reaches out, grasps his wrist.
“Wait.” She waves at him to come closer with her free hand. “C’mere.”
He crouches beside the bed, still smiling at her. The same smile he’s given her since day one, when she’d driven him across the desert with a lizard in their trunk. The smile of her best friend. If she had to give a name to the feeling, it’d probably just be ‘Home’.
“Need something before I head out?” He asks, a little confused when she just stares at him.
She’s not sure if it’s the pain, or the numbness, or the stims, or just the hell that the last however many days have been, but she realizes she doesn’t want him to leave; doesn’t want to be alone right now. So she rolls onto her side, props herself up on one elbow as best she can, and pulls him by the front of his shirt down to meet her.
He has plenty of time to stop her, if he wants. She has no coordination or strength left; just her need to keep him here driving at this point. He doesn’t stop her though. He watches, waits to see where exactly she’s taking this, til his face hovers over hers, so close he can see the telltale circuitry of the cyberware in her eyes.
She stares up at him with drooping eyelids, hesitates for just a moment.
“Whatcha doing, V?” Jackie murmurs, his voice husky. It sounds more like an invitation than a genuine question.
That’s all the encouragement she needs. Her grip in his shirt tightens, she pulls him in to close the last couple inches between them, crushes her lips to his.
It takes a second for him to return the kiss; maybe he wasn’t really expecting her to go for it, or that this was some stupid, stim-induced joke right up until the last possible moment. She lets him know pretty quickly that’s not the case though. His mouth moves with hers, surprised, at first, then eagerly as her eyes flutter shut. She manages to snake her arm up around the back of his neck, and when she feels his calloused palm come to rest against her cheek, she lets out a little, happy hum.
The sound is encouraging, to say the least. V feels his other hand at the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in the shaggy hair of her neglected undercut. His thumb runs across the underside of her jaw, tickles her earlobe. The pounding in her ears is deafening, egged on by the racing of her heart. She inhales sharply as her tongue finds purchase against his, almost coughing from the sudden strain on her lungs. He smells so good, she notices. Like the leather of his jacket and something… woodsy? Spicy? The specifics don’t really matter, of course. It’s just his smell, familiar. She wants to pull him even closer; yank him into her bed and feel the weight of his body against hers, the heat of his breath in her ear, his hands on her bare skin. She can barely sit up though, so this will have to do for now.
It’s not a particularly graceful kiss. V is still higher than a kite, practically hanging off the bed at this point, and Jackie is stuck kneeling on one knee, her face still cupped in his hands. V has to pull away first, with a short, staggered breath escaping her throat.
She lets her head hang forward limply for a few seconds, eyes still shut, gripping the back of Jackie’s shirt collar to keep from falling. She feels like the room’ll start spinning if she doesn’t try to catch her breath first. This much excitement probably wasn’t a good idea considering her condition, but she doesn’t really give a shit right now.. After a moment, she lets her eyes drift open, half lidded and heavy.
“Stay.” She whispers, her stare pleading as she looks up at him.
His face is reddened a bit, his own breath a little uneven at this point. But his gaze on her is soft. There’s a quirk at the corner of his mouth, a hint of a smile at her request.
“Can’t say no to you, hermosa.” He chuckles softly and brushes her bangs out of her eyes once again.
He lays her back against the pillows and goes to kick his boots off, toss his jacket on her couch. He knows he’ll be here awhile. He scooches in beside her and lifts his arm so she can curl up against him.
Her head is foggy, heavy. She knows she shouldn't have fought so hard against sleep before, but it was worth it. Even if there’s no cure, no way to save her from the chip, she’s happy enough for now, held secure in Jackie’s arms while she drifts off the sleep.