"Alright. Let me see if I can figure out how to explain this." Johnny rubbed his chin as he paced back and forth.

Leaning against the couch, I folded my arms, head still fuzzy from the Relic malfunction.

"Every time we've been able to maintain joint control, you feel—I don't know—stronger?"

I shrugged. "Sure. But it wains as soon as I lose it, or like what just happened—the Relic pisses on me."

"And that's exactly what I'm thinkin'. I'm no smarty pants scientist or ripperdoc, but what if there was some way to tweak your cerebral mumbo jumbo?" He flailed his hand around.

A pit formed in my stomach. "Johnny, what the fuck are you gettin' at?"

He blew out a frustrated sigh and dragged his hands down his face. "Shit, I don't know. Some kinda tweak where you wouldn't have to maintain concentration. It could just—" He fanned his palms out like an explosion. "—happen."

The sound of permanent joint control seemed to lack any control at all.

"Are you out of your fuckin' mind?" I let my hands drop to my sides and furrowed my brow.

"Yes," he quipped. "And so are you. That's why this whole fucked up situation we're in actually works."

"Johnny, right now with us, there's a locked door with a glass window. What you're suggestin' is blastin' the door the fuck away." I stepped closer to him, locking his gaze with mine.

He nodded, contemplating, mulling over my words before responding. "Yeah. That analogy works, sure."

My jaw dropped, and I shook my head as if I'd walked into cobwebs. "Do you have any idea what kind of trust that entails?"

He slid forward until the tips of our toes touched. "Yes."

"I'd have to trust you wouldn't try to shove my mind out of the picture at any moment. Because you could, Johnny. You completely fucking could."

"We've come this far. You honestly think I'd try that now? What would I gain?" He leaned closer, aligning our faces.

"A body," I whispered.

His jaw tightened. "At the expense of losin' you. I don't fucking think so." He made a tsking sound and turned away, spinning once on his heel before leaning his ass against the couch's back. "A lot has changed since the day you woke up with a surprise neither one of us could process at first. And if this cerebral shit can be done, it'll buy us some time, Val. You get that?"

Time. A fleeting word as of late.

I dragged my pinky back and forth over my bottom lip. "It'd be like naturally-induced pills."

"Yeah. And don't think the trust doesn't go both ways. You could easily omega block my ass the entire fucking time." He pushed off the couch, moving in front of me, his chrome knuckle nudging under my chin to lift it, and I felt the coolness. "But you won't."

My gaze dropped straight to his mouth, curling into a smug but confident smile. "So sure of yourself."

He shook his head, his eyes panning to my lower lip as he brushed it with his thumb. "No. So sure of you. You've had countless opportunities to take the pills, ignore me, and tell me to fuck right the hell off, but you haven't."

No. I hadn't. Any more, I enjoyed his company. And panic would strike if he didn't glitch in front of me when I called out his name. I'd become addicted to him. Addicted to Johnny Silverhand and everything he represented, everything he was, who he was.

"Really think this could work?"

Johnny sighed and moved his hand away to slip on his Aviators. "Only one way to find out. Ten eddies say Vik'll accuse me of brainwashin' you or some shit the moment you bring it up."

"You sorta are, though, right? Taking over my brain bit by bit?" A weak smile curved my lips.

He hung his thumb in a belt loop on his leather pants. "I think we're lookin' at it the wrong way. Am I taking over your mind, or are we just gettin' to know each other better? Not everyone can say they have backstage passes to another's memories the way we do. Insight into their deepest, darkest desires?"

My stomach tingled, and I pinched my thighs together. "You know all that, do you?"

"Some of it." He grinned and bobbed his brow. "You wanna delta or wait until tomorrow?"

I wrung my hands together and bolted for the door. "We better go before I lose my damn nerve."

"You want me to do what?" Vik roared, pushing backward on his stool to get a better look at me. "With all due respect, V, are you out of your damn mind?"

I let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose. "I thought this through. We thought this through. We think it may even help buy us some time."

"Oh, how I fucking wish they could hear me," Johnny said, walking back and forth the room length.

Vik looked at Misty who'd come over from her little shop near Vik's to give an opinion. She frowned and tugged the sleeves of her purple sweater further over her hands. "In theory, it could work."

"Ha," Johnny shouted, pointing at Vik. "Suck it."

"How?" Vik asked, folding his arms.

"With her brain deteriorating and Johnny's still fully intact, it'd help—lighten the load, so to speak?" Misty chewed on her lip and wrapped his arms around herself.

"You've got to be kidding me," Vik mumbled, holding his head in his hands.

"See? He's actin' out his aggression on me because he wanted to get in your pants." Johnny stood behind Vik, leaning down to stare at the side of his face, glaring.

"How is he doing that exactly when he doesn't know you're here?" I arched a brow.

"Semantics."

Vik scratched the stubble on his chin before cutting his gaze to mine. "Be straight with me. This isn't Johnny talking, is it?"

"I'd say you owe me money, but it's yours already, isn't it?" Johnny grinned at me, still standing behind Vik.

"No. And I already done told you, we've talked it through. He agrees to not completely take over my body, and I agree not to block his consciousness out at every waking turn." I shrugged. "Pretty solid arrangement to extend my shelf life."

"It really could work, Viktor," Misty said, placing a hand on Vik's shoulder with a pinched brow.

"Please, Vik." I chewed on my lip. "You're the only doc I'd trust with my head."

Vik beat his fist against his knee, slowly nodding to himself. "Because you're obviously not gonna let this go and I don't want you going somewhere else only to have them screw up whatever brain you have left, I'll do it." He pointed at me as he wheeled back to the chair. "But know this, I was against it from the start."

"Noted, Vik." I sat down and reached across the chair to squeeze his forearm. "And thanks."

"What does this asshole have so against me anyway? We've never met. All he knows is how they depicted me on the holos, the newsfeeds, the concert recordings. Fucking unfair is what it is." Johnny made a chair appear and sat on it backward, resting his forearms on the back.

"And none of those have ever shown the real Johnny Silverhand, have they? Or better yet, Robert John Linder?"

Johnny snapped his gaze to me over the rims of his sunglasses. "Fuck if we don't have a lot of dirty laundry to air out."

"Last chance to call this off, Johnny. Doing this will only make the connection stronger, the memories more vivid."

He patted his chrome hand against his arm. "Do it. Because I kind of—I don't fuckin' know—I sorta—like having you around." He winced at me and smirked.

"Careful. You're startin' to sound like a softy." I bit back a smile and hid it from Vik as he prepped a light over top of me.

"Never, princess." He wiggled the fingers of his silver hand. "I'm always hard."

"Alright, V. Count back from ten for me. I'm going to have to put you under for this," Vik said, lifting a breathing apparatus to my mouth.

"Johnny?"

Johnny glitched beside me. "I'm right here, V. And I will still be when you come around. But come around. You hear me?"

I'd heard him. Heard the words—the tone in how he said them. And as the room went dark, my eyes fluttered closed, and I sank into unconsciousness—I came to the unsettling realization I was falling for a rock star in my head.