Not much is said about Veronica at this point in the manga. Just a few tid bits and wordless flash backs. I was pretty set on keeping away from doing any fics with her in them until Kosuke decides to reveal more about her, but this weeks episode of the anime gave me all kinds of feels when Nic was dreaming about her.

Since we don't know when/how Veronica met Nicolas, or even if they were romantic or just close friends yet, I'm not going to get specific on time frame or ages in this particular fic. Hope you enjoy.

Reviews are always loved and appreciated ;)

Sound had been a foreign concept to Nicolas for as long as he could remember. It actually hadn't even been a concept at all until he was almost ten years old. No one had ever sat down and explained it to him, or if that they he hadn't understood. It wasn't like his father or the mercenaries ever took the time to give him a means by which to communicate. It had been Worick which had given him the freedom of communication, through sign language and coaching him on speech.

He could still remember being a small child, long before meeting Worick, and wondering what it meant when the adults sat and moved their mouths into those funny looking shapes. Why would it cause reactions from the other ones around them that weren't moving their mouths? Why was it that sometimes he would be walking behind them and suddenly all of their heads would snap to look towards the same direction despite there having been nothing moving about? His whole world had been sight, scent, taste, and touch. He hadn't even been able to fathom that there was something else, something that he was unable to detect.

The first time he had realized that there might be something going on when people moved their mouths was when he was around eight years old. It had been cold and snowing and their mercenary troop had been stuck outside over night without tents. It had forced them to huddle together, even Nicolas had been allowed to pile up with them. First he had felt it, strange vibrations coming from the chest he was currently leaned up against. One of the more mellow mercenaries had allowed Nic to sit in his lap and lean against his chest for warmth while the adults sat arm to arm huddled around the fire.

When he turned around out of curiosity to see what was causing the rumbling vibrations in the man's chest, he realized that what he was feeling synchronized with the way the man's mouth was moving. Without even thinking, Nicolas had stuck out a small hand to touch the man's neck and then cheek, fascinated in how they vibrated as his mouth moved and stopped when his lips closed. He had been thrown from his lap then, but it had been quite a revelation all the same. It had taken him more than a year to figure out how to make those same vibrations rattle through his own chest and throat, though the mercenaries certainly didn't react the same way to him as they did to the others.

Now as an adult, he understood the concept as well as he ever was going to. Sound was a thing that existed for other people, but not for him. He was deaf and could not hear any of the noises around him. Noise was what made other people turn suddenly to look at something even when he saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was what happened when they moved their lips. It was something he made when he could feel his chest and throat vibrate with an exhale of air. Speech and words were hard to fathom as well. It was a thing he could do, sort of, if he tried hard enough. He could read and write words, but he had no idea what they sounded like. The letters made up the words, but words were just things he associated with objects, actions, or emotions. It was the same with mouth movements. It all matched up together and he knew that, but Nicolas had a feeling that his view of speech and words were different from a person who could hear, or at least who could remembering being able to head at some point in their life.

He didn't try as hard as he used to. Reading lips was something he was apparently very good at, but sometimes he wondered if people really understood how limited his understanding of a conversation was when they spoke to him. Even Worick seemed to sometimes forget that it wasn't a skill that gave him a complete picture of what was being said, forgetting to sign as he spoke and taking for granted that Nic was good at lip reading. He very much preferred just speaking and being spoken to with Sign Language. That was the only time he ever had complete understanding of a conversation. Everything else was just puzzle pieces he had to put together using context, common sense, and luck that the word wouldn't look like something completely different.

Even simple conversations like the one he was engaged in now were problematic at best. It was harder when there were multiple people involved, it was too much to try and keep track of. It was damned exhausting too. This wasn't a regular customer either, they probably hadn't even realized he couldn't hear them yet. The two men had called on Nic and Worick earlier that morning, now here they were talking to them. Which meant Nic had to keep track of three sets of lips.

"They sold... visions... last night-" The man turned his face to far toward Worick and Nic couldn't read his lips at all for a moment, "-Fade for... need everything back."

Nic rubbed the back of his neck in silent frustration. This man mumbled too much, it made his lips move strange and he was almost certain he was reading some of the words wrong while also missing huge chunks of the conversation. As far as he could tell, something had been stolen and they wanted it all back. If he didn't hate asking for Worick to repeat things for him as much as he did, Nic would have just given up and pretended to pay attention. It would have saved him a headache, but Worick didn't appreciate repeating things very much unless he had at least tried to understand on his own. It was understandable, Nic didn't really like talking out loud unless someone had tried to understand him with Sign Language first. Give and take, which was the motto of their lives... Or at least, it was for him.

"Well pay... when reborn... thing-" Nicolas stopped looking, there was no way that was right... What looked like 'reborn'? Maybe he had said 'reburn'? Was that even a real word? 'Return' maybe? That would make much more sense considering they had been speaking about things having been stolen earlier. He sighed, this was one he was going to have to rely on Worick to explain later.

Worick smacked him on the shoulder, indicating that the conversation was over and they were leaving. Nic raised an eyebrow, the look on their customers faces suggested the conversation had been ended prematurely. What had he missed this time? It had seemed like a relatively normal business conversation for them. But, he had missed a lot of it whenever they turned away from him or they had mumbled too much for him to read a word properly. Something must have tipped Worick off enough to give a bad vibe, it was written all over the blonde's face.

Once they had turned down a few alley ways, Worick turned around and signed rather than spoke, 'That didn't smell right. Nobody calls us just to get back some stolen electronics from their store. That's police shit. I'm not sure what, but it was either a set up or they got something else stashed in their goods that they don't want the police to see.'

Well, that explained a lot. Nic shrugged a bit as he slowly pieced together the blank bits of conversation and replaced misread words with ones that made more sense. He couldn't remember seeing if they had spoken about an exact amount on any payment, 'What were they offering to pay?'

'That's the thing. They were low balling us big time. And they wouldn't budge on the amount. Like they had a very set amount they could pay without any wriggle room. Most new customers try to low ball, but when they hear how much we usually charge they at least try to haggle out something. They wouldn't budge at all. Even if this was legitimate request, they couldn't afford us to begin with anyway. Best to just cut our losses and head home,'Worick's hands moved slower than usual, as if he were thinking very hard while he signed. He did the same thing when he thought too hard while also speaking, Worick wasn't the best at multitasking in the world.

Nicolas reached out to wave his hand in Worick's line of sight to regain his attention after the blonde had zoned out as they walked, 'I assumed they were nervous because they saw my tags. Think they were nervous about something else?'

Worick shrugged, 'Why do you think I'm only signing with you? If it was a setup, then we were being watched. I don't think we're being followed, but better safe than sorry, right pal?'

Nic just grunted in response and glanced up at the rooftops with suspicion. He had very good eyesight and, with his reliance on it, if anything moved in his periphery he would notice it instantly. But, if they were being followed at the moment, it would have to be someone directly behind them that he could not see. It certainly didn't feel like they were being followed, but that was hardly anything to go by. At most, someone may be watching by having a few people posted here and there, but once the two of them walked past the invisible perimeter there would be no one following them.

'Have I ever told you how much I hate it when people do that mumbling thing?'Nic decided to change the topic, plus he really felt like just complaining for a few minutes if he were completely honest with himself.

"From the way you describe what it's like to try and read a mumbler's lips, I'm guessing it's a lot like the telephone game," Worick said, this time signing as he also spoke out loud.

'The what game?'

"Telephone game. All the kids sit in a circle and someone comes up with a phrase and whispers it in the next kids ear. By the time it makes it around the circle the phrase is completely different than it was when the game started. 'See Jane run' turns into 'See Jane shave her legs' or some shit like that," Worick laughed a bit at himself as he signed, waggling his eyebrows and pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

Laughter was another one of those strange things that somehow seemed like it would make more sense if he could hear it being done. From Nicolas' standpoint, laughter looked really damn awkward. People's eyes would scrunch up, mouth would either clamp shut or fall open, they would slap their knees or take heaving breathes as their shoulders shook and their faces turned red. There was a reason he tried not to laugh himself. It felt as weird as it looked. He knew it was something that came naturally with finding something funny, but that didn't make it any less strange. He didn't like how it felt to talk out loud and laughing felt even stranger than that. At least most noise he made was on purpose, but laughter wasn't something easily controlled once it got started.

They made their way back home without incident and walking through the front door brought the familiar ease of home to replace the stress of watching all the dark corners of the outside world. They both trudged up the stairs and entered the living room, finding it just as they had left it. Worick moved to open the windows as Nic just quietly turned to head down the other set of stairs leading to their basement. It was dim downstairs, but not terribly so. He moved toward his bedroom and opened the door, finding the only light to be coming through the cracks left by the curtains drawn over the window. A small lump beneath the sheets of the bed moved, reacting to some sound he must have made.

Nicolas wasn't sure if he was being quiet or not, but he was trying to be as Veronica pulled the covers from over her head. Her dark hair was messy and he could tell by the flush of her cheeks that she didn't feel any better now than she had that morning. He doubted she had even been out of bed. It had been touch and go with her lately, sometimes feeling totally fine and others not having the energy to get out of bed at all. Her big brown eyes blinked up at him, a soft little smile tugging at her lips. He had to smile just a bit himself as her hands moved up to sign, 'I'm glad you're home.'

Nicolas loved seeing Veronica's hands sign. It was beautiful and elegant, making a hot feeling well up in his chest that he couldn't quite explain. It reminded him a bit of how Worick had once tried to describe to him that some people had beautiful voices, that he could just sit and listen to them talk all day no matter what the subject was. Nic didn't know anything about voices besides that they could make a person's chest and throat vibrate, but the Veronica's slender fingers and lovely palms moved to form the signs as she spoke to him was heavenly.

'Feeling any better?'He asked, sinking down onto the bed next to her. There was still a bandage wrapped around one of her arms, where she had accidentally run hard into the edge of the counter and not realized it until she saw the blood. Her sense of pain was coming and going now, the beginning of the end and he knew it. But, they both refused to speak about it. Instead, they merely flitted about the subject's borders and never actually breached it. They treated it like a cold, something that would eventually pass. Because both of them needed to believe that.

'Just tired, that's all. I probably need to take another dose.'

Nic just nodded and picked up the bottles of pills beside their bed, knowing these were hers since his own were upstairs. Her dosage had been changed just a month prior, now she received one more downer and one less upper with her daily doses. He counted them out as she slowly eased herself to sit up, smiling as she took the pills and the bottle of mineral water which had been sitting next to the bottles. Once she had taken them, she leaned against him as he let an arm drape around her slender shoulders. He could feel her breathing and that was comforting to him.

'Want to go to sleep?'He signed to her, feeling her chuckle lightly as she looked up at him and nodded.

Nic watched as she settled back down, waiting for her to lay back down before he went upstairs for his own dose of Celebrer. Worick was seated at the disk with the radio in front him that apparently also made noise. Going to the counter, Nic counted out his own dose of five uppers and two downers. He wouldn't need another dose until morning, but he might be feeling a bit shaky if he slept in too much since this was earlier than he normally would go to sleep. He drank down the pills rather than the usual chewing, hoping that since he was taking them on an empty stomach the downers wouldn't hit him bad enough to send him running to throw up before he passed out.

He crawled back into bed with Veronica shortly after, snaking his arms around her and pulling her close as he buried his face into the back of her neck. She smelled wonderful. He couldn't quite think of how to describe her scent, but he knew it was perfect in every way. He could feel her chest vibrate a bit, she must have said something but it probably was in her sleep since she had signed it for him. Unlike Worick, Veronica never forgot to sign when they spoke to each other. In fact, she usually stuck to just signing with him rather than signing along as she spoke like Worick did. He liked that. It put them on equal ground.

By the time the downers had soured his stomach, Nic was already falling asleep. That was always the best case scenario for him. If he could just fall asleep before he upgraded from feeling his stomach sour to actually feeling full blown nausea, he'd be able to get through the night without puking. And any night he didn't puke, was a damn good night. Luckily, Veronica didn't suffer from the same negative reaction to downers as he did. They just eased her into a mellow state where she could stay awake and relaxed if she wanted to or have the most restful sleep of her life. But, for him it was always nausea and then being knocked out for at least an hour where no one could wake him up before the downers became a bit more diluted in his system and he could at least be roused from the dead sleep.

He wasn't sure what he dreamed about, but when he awoke he felt panicked.

Someone was holding him down and he couldn't quite breathe. He couldn't remember if he had been sleeping or had been knocked out during a fight, it certainly felt more like the latter. It felt like his heart was going to hammer right out of his chest as he struggled to gasp for breath. It was so hard to breath, like someone was physically clamping their hands around his throat. He struggled, thrashing around to try and get the hands off from around his arms and legs. Where was he even at? It was dark.

A light flipped on and he felt those hands yanked from his body, just in time to see that it was just the sheets he had been tangled up in. Veronica leaned over him, making sure he saw it was her before she pulled him towards her and cradled him against her chest. He gasped for breath like a fish out of water, not able to calm himself down enough to regulate his lungs just yet. He knew where he was and what was happening now, but the adrenaline and panic was still coursing through his body like electricity. He was wired up and unable to come back down, his chest physically hurt from how hard it was to breath. It felt like he was drowning, dying from lack of air.

Veronica just caressed his cheek and kissed at his forehead, her breath cool against his sweaty skin. Minutes passed and slowly, he got his breathing under control. His lungs sucked in air with shaking huffs and shuddering exhales, but eventually he had synchronized his breathes with her own. She was solid and real and soft. He was safe, he wasn't a child any more. There was nothing in this room that was going to hurt them right now. It had just been a dream. Whatever the dream had been, he had come out of it in a sheer panic. But, this happened often enough for both of them to know the drill once he was awake enough to understand what where he was and who was actually with him.

His chest still hurt when he finally was breathing completely normally and only his hands were shaking slightly. Before Veronica had come along, he had just suffered through this alone. It took less time to calm down with her there. Worick had tried to help him through it before, but he had mistaken his friend for someone else and fought back against him. After that, he had told Worick to just leave him be at night no matter what sounds he might make. He never wanted to hurt his friend. But, with Veronica... He always seemed to be able to pick out that it was her quickly, she was too slender and feminine to be mistaken for any of the men that haunted his nightmares.

'I'm sorry,'He signed with shaking hands as he pulled away from her and reached to fix the sheets back to where they should be.

Her fingers slid across his shoulder and caught his attention before he could find where the covers had been thrown across the room, his eyes finding her soft features in the dim light cast by the street lamp outside their window. Those soft fingers of hers slid up his neck, making him shiver before she cupped his cheek in her small palm. She didn't say anything, didn't need to, as she shook her head and gave him a sad smile. Veronica understood, he didn't need to explain or apologize. That was what made her so beautiful. She just accepted him. He had no idea what he would ever do without her as she pulled him toward her again into a tight embrace. Soft lips ghosted the shell of his ears as her long fingers ran through his damp hair.

She was speaking out loud to him, he could feel her chest vibrate against his own as he let his head fall to rest against her shoulder. Her hands rubbed soothingly up and down his back. He knew it was a force of habit for most people to do that, especially when they were saying nothing but soft words of comfort. It was a habit he never held against either Veronica or Worick. Besides, when he was up close and could feel the words they spoke, it was relaxing. It reminded him they were still alive and unharmed. It helped him ease back down from that adrenaline high waking up from a nightmare and straight into panic put him on. Those soft vibrations against his chest in the silence was sweet, because when they sat like this he could feel the words he couldn't hear her speaking.

I based Nicolas waking up with a panic attack after my own experience with PTSD.

Reviews are always appreciated