29/09/2077
Aldecaldos Camp, Outside Night City
Californian Badlands
V
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V had managed to soon pull himself from the single-seater couch, bumbling and fumbling for his wheelchair to roll himself out before he caused more issues. The ex-corpo wanted to curl up into a ball and waste away in the sand. He'd pushed her away as he crawled across the floor before he managed to pull himself into the uncomfortable chair. He felt flush and soon enough, he went pale, the blood rushing from his face as soon as the bad thoughts rushed to his head.

The beating from Smasher, the very open-ended concepts of what he had done to Meredith pulsed and surged at the forefront of his mind's eye. Did he break as many bones as he could, stab into her and slice away until she was a limbless invalid? Was it some kind of personal pleasure? He sounded happy when the borg told V that he had murdered her to find out anything about him, sounded delighted in thinking of every constant action that could cause pain.

He knew his name. The name he'd taken as a pseudonym so he could attempt to disassociate, to tell the difference between the nomad and the corpo. The very different people that were Virgil McCall and the person he knew was him in the truest form, of V.

His hands fell soft against the wheels of his chair, pushing helplessly before Panam had put her hands against the handles of his seat. His eyes rushed around, panicked as his chest tightened, he pushed hard against the wheels before she had stopped him dead in his tracks. He rushed to gain control, trying to push harder to find the exit of the tent before he was pushed back. His breathing grew rapid. He felt his cheeks burning again before he felt the cold and soft palms of Panam against his cheeks.

Panam had held him down, keeping him from escaping. "V, it's okay! V, just calm down. You're safe with us, you don't need to worry. Just, deep breaths. Okay? Five seconds in, five seconds out."

"I need to go; I can't stay here. They could track me, find the camp, kill you all." V stressed, his breath intensifying. "It's Arasaka, they were there. Adam Smasher, he was the one… He killed her, he killed Jackie. He's after me, he has to be."

Panam's eyes widened for a moment before she managed to contain herself. "V, it's okay. We've been scouting for the past week, we haven't had Arasaka vehicles come out since we found you."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I need to go." V, with a sudden flash of strength, managed to push through Panam's guard as he wheeled himself out. "Need to leave, need to go."

"V, you need to stop. It's been a week since you got your ass kicked but you need to pick yourself up from that. Just because Smasher is messing with you, doesn't mean you need to lose the cool. He killed Jackie and he killed Stout, but that needs to be it. We can't let him do this again, kid. Nobody else is gonna be able to take him down. I couldn't, Blackhand couldn't, but together, we can do it."

The wheels of his chair stuttered and slipped in the light sands, swaying and putting V off from his course. He'd ended up turning to the cliff-face again, looking out into the distance to see the City of Dreams once again. The lights and advertisements, the echoes of the holographic advertisements as they purported every slogan and tagline for the citizens that were so loud, they could be heard from outside the city limits. The skyscrapers tore through the skyline, ant-like trails of light from light and heavy aerial vehicles as they slipped between the high-rises and cloud-breaking structures.

He'd tried focusing on every light, every skyscraper that towered over all the other districts. Then the small gatherings of the heavy freighters that seemed to float in and out over the desert, towards and away from the city. The gatherings of the freighters soon stopped, becoming rare as the time between each one grew longer and longer between each collection of aircraft. V was silent, he'd managed to collect his breath as he looked out to the mega-city from afar. He locked his wheelchair in place, his eyes locking to the city as he just sat mute at the edge of the camp. His thoughts had floated between the people in the city and the people in the camp.

Panam, Saul, Mitch & Scorpion, Teddy and Cassidy. Each person that could die if Arasaka ever found out it was the Aldecaldos that were his true family, where his home was. They'd send Smasher on a massacre. He could see it vividly, every image. He'd shoot down every single man, woman and child with a smile on his malformed skin-plate. He'd take pleasure in ending the lives of the older members, all he'd have to do was just lay a hand on Teddy and Cassidy, and they'd croak. They'd be no match for a borg like Smasher.

He didn't want to think, he didn't want to have to see the mechanical form of that psychopathic, evil, sadistic fucking robot ever again. If he had to, he'd want to see it decommissioned. He'd see it torn apart by buzzsaws, melted down or crushed in a hydraulic press. Every form of violence, he wished it upon Smasher. His imagination was giving him every lurid detail for how much he wanted to zero that red-eyed bastard. Then it would swap, taunt him with how much he failed, how many different methods that could have been used on Meredith to get her to talk, to get her killed.

"I'll kill him. I'm going to fucking kill that bastard. I hope he begs, I want him to beg."

Johnny appeared, sitting on the edge of the cliff. "Careful you don't start thinking like him, V. Last thing I want is to be sitting inside the brain of a pre-borged Adam Smasher wannabe bitch."

"He's taken everything from me." V wanted to snap. "He took Jackie from me, he took Meredith from me. He could take everyone and everything I know. He needs to die, they all do, Smasher, Takemura, Saburo, they all need to go."

Hours had passed, the last essence of the pink sky slinking away into the darkness, an obscuring inky black that smothered out every star in the sky. The wilderness and the sky felt smothered, the night falling and strangulating every stray source of light between the camp and the desert. The campfire from the centre had slithered from behind V, the flickering flame illuminating the long fall that he would suffer if he were to unlock his wheels and just push himself forward that little bit. The idea of ending it all, he would have lied if he hadn't thought of it many times, more so when he was younger and still involved in the corpo lifestyle.

The stress of the job, the constant thrill of searching through every nook, cranny and hidey-hole to get what was needed before a deadline or so somebody else didn't fuck up and blame it on him. How every other day, he'd have to rush into the slick, well-decorated bathroom and throw up his lunch when he couldn't suppress the urge when in his cubicle or travelling between floors or buildings. Even when he had advanced, become more than just some external investigator, or some pencil-pusher for another unimportant desk-jockey, that stress, pressure and need to succeed at all costs never left.

That was where Meredith came in, she provided some small grace in which she had helped him. He'd been substituted into Cypher-9, and with her at first, being his superior, she'd given him the tour and the general instruction guide that consisted of 'report everything, don't fuck up, and make sure she knows of any plans to get on the ladder first'. She'd offered medications, psychological health representatives to keep files on 'Virgil McCall' when she'd realised how useful he actually could be. He thought outside the box, he wasn't limited to seeing everything through a corporate lens, he saw everything in a grand scheme, as a solo or as a cohesive unit.

Not bad for some jumpy, up-start corpo-rat. She'd written a few recommendations, figured he'd be a better tool than a busy-body. All things she had said in the pillow talk they would occasionally have. Of course, he excelled as a soldier and had risen through the ranks quicker than she expected. Militech had given him success, a life he had most thoroughly deserved due to his dedication and diligence.

V wanted to curse, he wanted to vomit at every single taunt and mocking jab that she ever threw at him. Her cold nature, teasing, alluring sense of self lured V into her web and trapped him forever. She loved him, and he hadn't had the guts to reciprocate or break it off or go by the rules they had. It was just a benefit, an outlet. They weren't input or output for each other, they were just co-workers who would fuck.

"She's dead, V. No time to linger on thoughts of what you could or should have done. Can't change the past. That's all there is to it."

"What if he lied, Johnny? What if it's manipulation?"

"You think Smasher is the type for that kind of warfare? He'd rather inflict the pain himself before he kills you. What he said on the cliff, it was the final word. He'd figured you out, scared you before he thought he killed you. If he said she's dead, she's dead and if Smasher did it, there's no way she's alive."

V shook his head. "I need to find anything on him. I need to know what makes him tick."

"Violence, violence and more fuckin' violence, V." Johnny grunted, turning towards the wheelchair-bound soldier. "He's a psycho, cybered out of his mind. Maybe this is advanced cyberpsychosis, a plateau of how fucked up cyberware affects the mind. I don't know, I'm not a ripper."

"Somebody has to know something. He's Adam Smasher."

"And people don't want anything to do with him, because he's a fucking bad omen. He'll come for you, it's a case of you being prepared for him and being everything, he isn't. Quick, precise, strategic. Smasher is just anger and bloodlust, mixed with a little of metal, plating and dry ice that throws his weight around. Don't know if you've noticed, but you're not that. We need to get fixed."

From what V knew, the rippers for the camp didn't exactly have the stock or the gear to replace sub-dermal plating. Torn and cracked, damaged goods just like he was. He remained focused on the city, and soon enough he could make out the light footfalls coming from behind him. He faltered, falling from his own world that revolved entirely around the City of Dreams when he turned around.

Of course, she was there. She had a bottle of suds in her hand, two, in fact, the necks of the bottles held between her fingers. She was silent, looking at him with something akin to sadness or disappointment. He was not what she deserved, and most definitely not what she would have wanted. There was nothing similar between the V that left the camp, and the one that sat disabled in a wheelchair that sat staring into a city that ate people up to spit them out. V had unlocked his chair, pushing away from the cliff before he turned to face Panam, as she offered him the bottle.

"That was, something else. Thought you'd at least say no before trying to run away."

V smothered the thought of laughing at himself. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to, it's just, I don't know. It's a bad time."

"It's okay, I get it. You need time to think too."

"Panam, I…" V struggled, taking the bottle that she offered. "I don't think you realise that it feels wrong to be here, I can't travel with you, I can't leave this city. People here, need my help. People like Judy and Evelyn."

"You can't travel with us, or you won't?" Panam asked, popping the caps of the bottles. "because I won't leave you behind here, this city. I know I haven't been here for years like you, but what I've seen here. The scavvers, the amount of Raffen, the gangs, it's not safe."

"Nowhere is, not in this part of the NUSA," V grunted before he took a heavy sip from the bottle. "Night City is a shithole. Don't think it's ever not been. Europe was different. Nice, peaceful even."

Panam looked shocked. "You've been to Europe?"

"Once or twice, corpo business mostly. Pleasure too."

Panam smiled. "How was it? Didn't take you for the guy who liked fancy places."

V remembered Italy. He'd spent a lot of time in Sorrento, mostly on a corporate payroll but regardless, it was the most comfortable he'd ever felt. "You can say that until you sleep on a luxury mattress and a pillow filled with genuine feathers. Think I might go back when this business is done."

Panam's hand slid over his. "You really wouldn't come with us, come with me?"

V's fingers intertwined with hers. "Panam, I have lost everything I ever had twice over. Losing the clan, and now I lost Jackie and, and I don't want to lose you or any of the others. I don't want to risk it. I risked everything, and I lost Jackie and…"

"And?"

"And I lost Meredith. She, helped me a lot. Like Jackie, but in other ways."

There was a small silence when he said the words. He felt like he was being psychoanalysed again, something he hated so much when he was in Militech but that was because the psychotherapist was so robotic, V felt uneasy talking to him. Panam was a friend, more than a friend in more ways than one, that telling her the whole truth felt more secure and safe than it did telling the shrink. There was no reason to lie, not when it would have been so easy to call him out for doing it. Coming to terms, realising that nothing was the same anymore, Jackie and Meredith weren't there. Panam was all he had, all that connected him to a life outside of Night City.

"Did you love her?" Panam asked, V's hand squeezed tight in her own.

V struggled to vocalise, but the tension and pain in his face as he tried to find the words said enough. "I think so. I know that she did at some point before Smasher got her, but she deserved better. Better than I could give her."

Panam nodded. "You need time, to heal and to think about what you want, but what you need too. V, I know it seems early, but I want to be with you. If you aren't ready, then I won't push you into it. But, like I said, I'm here for you because you're my friend. You might not like it, but you are my people and I don't give a shit what Saul says because you're one of us. You're an Aldecaldo."

The nomad girl had polished off the bottle, tossing the glass off the side of the cliff as she looked at V. He had turned to the city once again, watching it like it was going to disappear, like every light that shone from the streets, air and skyscraper would go out and never return. He'd finished off the bottle soon after, tossing it off the side much like Panam had done too. He turned to her and seen that she was looking out to the city, but she would occasionally look back to the fire, to the centre of the camp. He felt cold, the frigid winds brushing over exposed skin, making him shiver. He was still wrapped in bandages and shorts.

Panam had rectified the situation, her tattered brown leather jacket fell from her shoulders before she laid it softly on V's lap. It was warm, body heat from Panam sinking into the stitching as V pulled it up to his chest. She wasn't wearing the beige bodysuit underneath, instead, she'd slung a tool belt around her hips as a loose blue vest flickered in the wind as a small holster dangled from under her left arm. In the small amount of time, he'd been awake, he already missed walking and standing, and he felt naked without the familiar feeling of cold steel and the smell of gunpowder.

He hoped Saul would come to his senses, sooner rather than later so the clan could still make their way out of the behemoth-like task of breaking away from the worst city in America. He did feel somewhat safe though next to Panam, even if she was armed slightly less than he would have liked. He thought about it, and it said much more about him than he liked when he felt safe around guns than he did without them.

"I'm not going to lead you on, Panam," V admitted from his seat, looking as her brown eyes peered into him. He felt like melting. "I want to be with you too, but, I'm not the same person I was when I was a kid."

"I know, V. I know. I don't care about the nerdy little kid who was two years days younger than me who was shy." Panam admitted. "I care about you. The kid, the soldier, the ex-corpo, the Aldecaldo. I care about you, V. All of you."

V couldn't really approach her, due to his legs not being turned on at the request of Teddy and the rippers. All he could do was open his arms, beckoning Panam closer. The fierce nomad girl hadn't resisted the urge to come to him, crouching at the side of his chair as her arms wrapped around his shoulder as he leant into the cuddle as much as he could. He didn't deserve Meredith, nor did he deserve Panam. Yet, even in his honesty, Panam didn't care. She was better, a better person than V could have ever hoped to be, more understanding than anyone else he knew.

In his internal strife, in his negativity, he had imagined that she would barely look at him. He wasn't virtuous or virginal, he wasn't pure by any means. His idea that she would despise him for that was unfounded, stupid and extremely obnoxious when he managed to admit it to himself. He'd lived as a corpo for so long, that seven years made him so utterly self-focused that he knew the world revolved around him.

That was no longer true. Panam had stated that it was time to go back inside, that the desert chill was starting to get to her too. She had been the one to push him around quite literally, wheeling him through the sand as they entered her tent once again. She'd parked him up into the nearest space next to the bedframe. Taking her jacket off his chest, she'd turned on the small heat lamp to keep them warm through the night. She'd thrown it into one of the four chests that held her belongings before she turned back to V, hauling him onto her bed. He'd tossed and turned, trying to find some small comfort on a bed that barely fit for someone of his size.

He eventually found his spot where he could sleep. He was facing the exit of the tent, which had soon been zipped up. V closed his eyes, listening to the clumsy shuffling of Panam as she discarded her boots and socks. As much as he felt like a leering jerk, V's eyes squinted open slightly. She'd thrown her toolbelt and holsters away, undressing as she found a spare blanket from her belonging that she threw over her shoulders. The shifting heavy blanket revealed parts of her that V only wished he could begin to fantasise about caressing and holding against him.

The feel of her skin against his silver hand, the crook of her neck where he could begin to lay down a pattern of gentle kisses in the late morning before she woke up. Loose strands of hair that hadn't been twisted and forged into her dreads, dangling loosely against her cheeks that he could brush softly behind her ears. Memories of better days fluttered by, as V found himself swimming through times where he was younger.

He saw himself, a skinny little runt that was only just beginning to pack on muscle unlike the rest of the boys he knew, his skin a little paler than the rest since he spent so much time in the shade or under a car. He never wore anything emblazoned with the icon of the clan, always wearing grease-stained dungarees or grey overalls, his tool belt and apron loosely tied around his waist and back.

Then there was Panam. He couldn't have been more enamoured with her. He felt himself melting away whenever they scoped each other from different sides of the camp, her eyes digging into him with an intensity that couldn't be matched. Her skin, dark and exotic and everything that V wasn't. The small spattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose that bridge across and just ever so slightly under her eyes. He remembered her hair, how it wasn't always styled like the dreadlocks that she had meticulously grown and tied together into the messy bun she had at that time. It was always luscious and wavy, it flickered in the wind and when the wind was gone, it seemed to settle at her shoulders.

Youthful thoughts of them sitting by the campfire were a memory that seemed closer than ever before, kissing her was a true event that he wished he could have savoured before everything went to shit. The taste of powerful moonshine and dark chocolate lingered on his tongue before they fell asleep. When he was sixteen, he wondered what it felt like to kiss her, to hold her close at the campfire and hold her close as somebody (usually a drunken McCall would play something on the guitar, or Cass would regale the younger kids with tales from his lead-slinging days) held their attention.

He smiled as he stopped squinting and just looked at her, the peaceful and serene look on her face before it was interrupted with a smirk. One of her eyes opened, causing V to close his eyes in response. "V?"

"Hmmm?" He feigned trying to sleep.

"I know you were peeking." Panam commenting, forcing V to scoff. "Go to sleep."