Neither of them interrupted the complete silence during their short walk to the clinic. Kerry remembered the suspicious look that Viktor gave him before and wondered if the ripperdoc still didn't want to trust him or simply wasn't the most talkative type. Or maybe both. It wasn't like he cared much at that moment. There was something more important to do. Kerry didn't hesitate for a second when Viktor moved the iron bars and – still not saying a word – let him enter first.

It all was almost exactly like in his dream. Stale air, dim lit room with cold, sharp light directly above the heavy operating chair and someone lying in it, half-naked, left in a slightly unnatural position like a rag doll. Kerry slowly came closer to the chair, to see with his own eyes that V was okay, was still alive.

Nothing made Kerry happier that evening than seeing how the tattooed dragon on V's chest was steadily moving up and down. Up. And down again.

He knew it was impossible, yet he almost expected that V would wake up, take off that oxygen mask, pull out those transparent tubes pumping unidentified liquids into his body and say one of his lame jokes. Destroyed my favourite hoodie, huh? Well, now you have to buy me a new one, Ker. And it better be expensive.

Nothing like this happened, obviously.

"Kid's got more luck than brain," murmured Viktor, standing next to Kerry. He pointed at the stitched wound on V's abdomen. "Just a lil' more to the right and he wouldn't have been able to even say goodbye. A thrust into the abdominal aorta would be rapidly fatal."

Kerry wasn't sure if he should be relieved to hear that V was literally centimeters from death and escaped it or rather terrified, but he said nothing.

"Couldn't save the liver, though," continued Viktor and crossed arms on his chest. "Gave him an artificial one, Kenjiri, hope it takes without any complications. Such a wonderful piece of cyberware…"

"When will we know if the transplant's workin'?" asked Kerry, still staring at V's pale face. He noticed a few red spots on V's cheek and suddenly had an overwhelming urge to wipe them off.

Viktor was silent for a moment, as if he was thinking of something.

"Wanna beer?" he asked all of a sudden.

"That bad? Need to get smashed first?" Kerry tried to joke, but the familiar cold feeling appeared in his guts again.

The ripperdoc didn't reply – he took two dark glass bottles out of a small fridge under the desk and that finally convinced Kerry that Viktor Vector's cool attitude was his trademark, not something caused by his grudge against the man who brought V to his clinic.

The only thing Kerry hoped for was that the fridge hadn't been used as a place for storing transplants.

Viktor approached the front door and waved at Kerry to leave the room too, which he did rather reluctantly. Of course, he remembered that he had only a very short time, but leaving the clinic turned out to be surprisingly difficult. Kerry took one last glance at unconscious V – he'd rather stay there until V woke up but he felt there was no point in discussing that with Viktor. After all, that man brought V back from the brink of death so he deserved some respect. If Viktor was implying that was the end of the visit, then Kerry should listen to that.

Even though he had a hard time doing it. A very hard time.

Outside, he found Viktor on the cluttered stairs, lost in thoughts, studying the label on the bottle. Kerry grabbed the beer left on the step next to the ripperdoc and sat down too. He took a sip. After the coffee he had at Misty's Esoterica, Kerry expected the beer to be equally cheap and of poor quality, but surprisingly it tasted quite nice. Either Viktor Vector was buying the gourmet expensive stuff or Kerry Eurodyne's taste buds didn't give a flying fuck after all they went through together that evening.

"I'm Kerry, by the way."

That was the first thing that came to Kerry's mind in an attempt to break the silence. The second he said that, he realised that Misty must have told Viktor everything by now. Oh well. Kerry had many talents, but being a charming conversationalist had never been one of them.

"Yeah, I know." Viktor nodded. "Had a chat with Misty. Wanted to know what V did this time, that he ended up on my chair again."

"That happens often?" snickered Kerry.

Before Viktor answered, he drank from the bottle.

"Kinda. I have absolutely zero idea why I still help him, one day he'll take me to the cleaners. I swear, he always gets in trouble."

"Occupational hazard." Kerry shrugged. "We all face it. Well, in my case it usually means dirty thongs on the stage, but still."

Viktor let out a short laugh and relaxed visibly. He gave Kerry a pat on the shoulder, but the moment his hand landed there, Kerry howled in pain internally. Something which was supposed to be a little, friendly pat, turned out to be almost a professional hit.

And that was when Kerry realised why the name Viktor Vector was ringing a bell. He remembered the spring of the year 2061 because that was the first time when he thought that divorce was the only option. Louise was pregnant with their son and – even though it was not exactly planned – the news made Kerry the happiest man in the world at first. Very soon it turned out that she expected him to change his lifestyle completely and spend more time at home. Kerry knew it was the right thing to do, to finally grow up and become a responsible husband and father, but there was also that annoying whisper in his head, telling him "bro, this is not the life you want to live".

He couldn't pretend forever he didn't hear that voice.

One night, when Louise was already asleep, Kerry snuck out of his own house like a robber. Drunk with the regained freedom, he was roaming the streets of Night City endlessly in the car until he heard about open finals of boxing grand prix, taking place in Watson that night. He had never been into sport, but that sounded interesting enough.

And he came there just in time to see Viktor Vector in action. Viktor was drawing attention – he was not only the oldest among all the boxers who took part in that grand prix, but also the calmest one, as if he was sure that he would win. Kerry heard that it was supposed to be Viktor's last championship before retirement so he even bet some money, but Viktor lost the final fight and got the second place.

Just like Kerry, who came back home and couldn't win his battle. And who eventually lost much more, including his sanity.

"I like you, man." Viktor squeezed Kerry's shoulder which made Kerry hiss quietly but he didn't seem to notice that. "And have to say, I'm glad you were there. Good to know kid's made some friends on his way to the top."

"Yep," sighed Kerry. "Would be nice if he stopped makin' them scared shitless."

"Not gonna happen, I'm afraid. Kid's got a heart of gold but once he's got a gig, he eats, sleeps and breaths it," Viktor more or less repeated Misty's words. Was V really such a stubborn gonk? "Thought he'd give it a rest with those shady gigs after… after Jackie's death. Ah, shit, he never learns." Viktor shook his head in disapproval.

"The heist when he stole Silverhand's engram, right?" asked Kerry casually.

Viktor gave him a surprised look, but after a second or two seemed to realise it wouldn't be anything strange if Kerry knew that story.

"The very same." He nodded. "Didn't end well for both of them," added Viktor after a short pause.

"Yeah," snorted Kerry. "Havin' Silverhand in your head is a pain in the ass, but…" he drank some of his beer, "guess it's not something he can't live with until you find out how to remove that fuckin' biochip."

"He… Fuck." Viktor run his fingers through his hair. "He didn't tell you."

The beer suddenly left a very, very bitter aftertaste on Kerry's tongue. He swallowed loudly, but could still feel that bitterness.

"Didn't tell me what?"

Viktor sighed quietly. Before he answered, he took off the glasses and wiped them on his stained shirt.

"That he can't wait forever," said Viktor finally, still polishing his glasses. "That engram of Silverhand is overriding V's consciousness, to put it simply. And it's doing it fast."

"How fast?" asked Kerry in a hollow voice. It was as if the words came out of his mouth on their own.

"We've got… four, maybe five weeks," said Viktor after a short pause.

So that was what Johnny meant. That was what he was trying to say in the Del, when he mentioned suffering.

Kerry took a deep breath. That tiny, tiny amount of relief, of hope he was desperately squeezing in the hands since he saw V a few moments ago, was slipping through his fingers like cold water.

He was not sure how to name that feeling that took the place instead, though. Too many thoughts were swirling through Kerry's head and he didn't know which one he should grab and stick to.

The anger, mostly at Johnny, who didn't even say a word about not being only a harmless stowaway, was burning like fire. How come Silverhand, that big mouth, shared with Kerry the whole story about Mikoshi and the heist but forgot that one small detail, one fucking detail? What was he waiting for, if he didn't want to watch Kerry suffer?

As for V… Fuck, that was rather disappointing. He was aware that V didn't owe him anything, didn't have to share it at all and yet… it was still upsetting. Kerry knew it wasn't like V was hiding the truth only from him, yet one annoying thought was rattling around inside of his skull.

Am I that untrustworthy or what?

"You okay, Kerry?"

For a second or two, Kerry seriously considered confiding in the ripperdoc. Hell, at that moment it could be anyone. Someone who would listen to him, about all his fears and insecurities, maybe give him some advice. Or even not say anything, just listen and tell that everything will be okay…

"Yeah," he said, "Yeah, I'm good."

Viktor looked over at him and grunted in response, which could mean either "alright" or "I don't fucking believe you". Or both.

"Look," started Kerry after another moment of silence, "not tryin' to tell, uh, I doubt your skills but maybe there's a way to help him? Somewhere else? If it's 'bout eddies, pretty sure I can work somethin' out…"

"Believe me, I wish it was my skills," interrupted him Viktor, in a very calm voice. "For this one damn time, it'd be awesome if I wasn't good at what I do. But…" he made a short pause. "Hate to say that, but I'm the best ripperdoc in Watson. And if I'm tellin' ya we need a miracle, I really mean it. Got no sense of humour to joke like that."

The last drop of hope dripped onto the concrete.

Kerry hated with all his heart that he didn't believe in miracles. He'd seen too much to still fool himself.

"So, what now?" asked Kerry and made an indefinite gesture towards the door a few steps below them. His voice sounded strange, unfamiliar to him, as if it belonged to someone else.

"Hmm, with V?" Viktor seemed to be lost in thoughts. "Gotta wait a bit until that immunosuppressive drip ends. Gave him a cocktail of corticosteroids, cytostatics, antibodies and a few other things… Sweetened it with some opioids too, to ease the pain. Then gonna send him home and ask Misty to take a look every two or three hours."

"Shouldn't there be someone for the whole time? Y'know, just in case?"

"There should." Viktor nodded. "But she's got her life and I've no idea how long it takes V to regain consciousness. Maybe in the morning. Maybe next week."

Kerry was pretty sure that Viktor wanted to add "maybe never", but it seemed it was too much even for that distanced, cool ripperdoc.

Either way… he wouldn't stand sitting at home in North Oak and waiting for any news. That was out of the question.

"Can stay with 'im," said Kerry as nonchalantly as he could. "I'm a free bird, no strings attached, got plenty of time."

Much to Kerry's surprise, Viktor laughed shortly.

"Heh. Was actually hoping you'd say that. You're a good man, I knew it from the start," he said and gave Kerry a pat on the back.

A very, very friendly pat.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay for now?" Misty sounded concerned.

"Nah." Kerry shook his head. "Can do it. 'Sides, Vik gave me a shard with the whole instruction." He pointed at his own neural port. "And told me to call 'im if anythin' goes wrong."

"Call me first, Vik doesn't always answer. His business is much more successful than mine." Misty laughed quietly. She took her hand off V's forehead and grabbed the wheelchair but before she left the apartment, she turned around and smiled reassuringly. "Good luck, Kerry."

The moment the front door closed automatically with a quiet sound, Kerry breathed out and kept his lungs empty for a few seconds. The weight pressing down on his heart felt even heavier in that dark, silent room, as if the darkness around was thick and tangible and had been crawling into Kerry's body the moment he entered V's apartment.

He reached for the switch and turned on the neon lights above the coffee table, the very same on which V put the dossier this morning. Fuck, it really felt like ages ago... The lights flickered at first but finally glowed blue, giving the room a cosy, quite pleasant atmosphere.

And then a sleepy, unhappy meow reached Kerry's ears.

"Hey, buddy," he said and came closer to pet the cat that was stretching paws on the table. "Sorry to wake you up. Didn't want you to deloaf yourself."

Nibbles slowly closed his eyes and started purring, as a sign that he forgives, but probably for the last time. Kerry smiled to the cat which suddenly raised the head and looked at the bed, clearly agitated.

"Yep," sighed Kerry bitterly and followed Nibbles' glance. "Shit happened, bud."

V was laying still on his back and Kerry could see his chest slowly moving up and down. Vik said it was a good sign that V was breathing on his own, but warned Kerry to keep an eye on that. Just in case.

"Alright, V," started Kerry. "Gonna take a shower, 'kay? Feelin' fuckin' gross. That lil' creature's stayin' with ya."

Nibbles meowed in response.

Kerry had hoped that hot water would make him feel better, but he wasn't showering long enough to check it. He hated that old tap which refused to cooperate and after moving it by a little bit, the shower tortured him with either freezing or boiling water. There was nothing in between. Maybe he could've fought with the tap a little more, but after he saw a cockroach disappearing in a crack on the ceiling, Kerry thought it was high time to leave the shower.

Besides… he'd recently stopped liking good, hot showers.

Kerry wrapped a towel around his hips and left the sanitary compartment. His own clothes, in their current state, couldn't be worn again, so he rolled them up and threw on the garbage bags near the front door. It was easier to buy new ones than to wash those… But right now that was out of the question, for obvious reasons. Sure, it was Night City and there were gonks who were strolling down the pavement wearing only underwear but Kerry Eurodyne, despite being a whimsical rock star, couldn't afford for ending up on a cover of a gossip magazine. At least, not for such a pathetic reason.

The wardrobe was still open, as they left it this morning, and still smelling of mothballs and wooden cologne. Kerry run his fingers through his hair, damp after the shower. He was sure V wouldn't mind if he borrowed some clothes and even if… nah, V would let him pick something. The studded leather jacket caught Kerry's attention once again, but he decided on loose jeans and a grey t-shirt with a band logo. He knew them, even though the name "Proud Members" had always been a mystery to him. Why proud? Why members? The group was actually a duo, consisting of a guy playing the ukulele and a female vocalist, who insisted on growling instead of singing. For a reason unknown to Kerry, that strange combination of heavy metal and ukulele has been quite popular in Night City but he wasn't a huge fan. Okay, the man was a gifted musician and knew how to play, but the girl… Oh, she was a hopeless case. Her unholy howl was haunting Kerry in his dreams.

After Kerry got dressed, he felt hungry. The last thing he ate was mint ice cream a few hours ago and now he was kicking himself for not having finished that little portion. The burrito vending machine installed on the wall gave him some hope, but it quickly turned out it was out of order. He loved the idea, though. Why didn't he have such a machine at his own home? Or even a few of them? So simple, yet so genius. He thought about ordering something, but discovered on the web that due to the increased number of deaths among the delivery people, most of the restaurants had temporarily stopped delivering takeaways to megabuildings. Fuckin' beautiful. Since Kerry wasn't brave enough to eat anything from the food stalls he'd seen on the way to V's apartment either, he decided to trust the old coffee machine on V's desk and search the place for anything edible.

But that Monday definitely wasn't his lucky day.

After Kerry made himself comfortable on the sofa and took the first sip of the hot coffee, he painfully realised that the white powder next to the coffee machine wasn't sugar. Who the fuck keeps salt with coffee? Kerry, a little angry at himself for that mistake, grabbed the jar of chocolate hazelnut spread that he found – strangely enough – next to the sink. Much to his disappointment, it turned out to be almost empty and the brown cream was only a thin layer on the glass surface, as if someone put a long object into the jar and it squeezed the content out.

"Shit, V," snarled Kerry. He took the teaspoon out of the coffee mug and ate some of the chocolate spread. An artificial flavour of hazelnuts and also of something unidentified flooded his taste buds. "Keep some normal food here next time, will ya? Or I'm gonna rob your cat of snacks."

Nibbles meowed in protest.

And V didn't answer.

The silence was driving Kerry crazy. Of course, there was the hum of a fan installed in the wall, the sound of raindrops hitting the only window, someone upstairs dropped something on the floor, but… he really needed to hear a human voice.

Kerry's eyes fell on the radio on the table, so he turned it on. He changed stations a few times – at that time of night, there were quite a lot of strange shows. There was a station which played sounds of random animals, for example. There was a talk show with a guy named Paul Sanders, who was teaching people how to make new friends. Kerry listened to him for a second, but when he realised the whole talk was only a very detailed advertisement of Paul's book, he turned the knob again.

And he certainly didn't expect to hear his own song from Aether, the album that everyone in Night City besides Judy Alvarez wanted to forget.

"The city carved a silhouette
On the ocean after dark
Over the lonely and the holy
And the red blood beating hearts"

Kerry looked over the table at the dark silhouette laying in bed. Fuck. To think that the day started so nicely… Just to end up here again, sitting in semi-darkness, eating disgusting chocolate spread and knowing that death awaited V anyway. Rather sooner than later.

Wouldn't be nice if he learned that sooner too? Maybe that way he wouldn't get so…

"Up from the dirty black water
A shadow void of form
Raised itself out of the river
And it climbed upon the shore"

Go on, Ker. Admit that.

So into V.

And yet again, no good can come of it. You're into a wrong person, one more time. You will suffer, just like Johnny said. You may have a few weeks of fun, of joy, maybe even share a few mellow mornings together and then what?

Months or even years of holing up in his fucking villa, with a bottle in one hand and a gun in the other, listening to old voice messages, looking at old photos and talking to the shadows. That's what.

"Kissed you when I saw you
Stared deep into your eyes
I meant to say 'I love you'
But instead I said goodbye"

There's still have time to get out if it, said the voice in Kerry's head. Just leave this apartment and call Misty. Tell her that there's an emergency or even say nothing. No need to explain yourself. That's none of her business and, besides, why would you even care about an opinion of a random girl?

He stood up.

"For all my good intentions
There's a shadow in the dark
It comes to me infrequently
And breaks your perfect heart"

V's left hand was laying still on the white blanket. There was an old, small scar on the thumb, almost invisible if one wasn't looking closely enough. His nails and cuticles were damaged, which meant that the mercenary's job was really tough or V had that nasty habit of biting nails. The mantis blades sockets user were shimmering with shades of blue, pink and every other colour of the city that managed to enter that little apartment through the dust on the window.

V's left hand was surprisingly warm and soft.

"I don't know why I do it
I apologize but it's too late
A single tear and you leave me here and
The shadow slips away"

Kerry wiped off the red spots on V's cheek.

"I'm sorry, V. Fucking sorry," he repeated. "Shouldn't have gone with ya. But… I'm glad I did."

Glad you're here with me, said V earlier that day, after they watched that braindance in Jackie's room.

"Dunno if I'm gonna regret this or not," continued Kerry quietly, "but I'm in."

"Shadows in the city
I'm a stranger to myself
On these streets I'm someone else
Shadows in the city
Like a demon in the dark
Come to tear us apart"

"Why're you sleepin' on the floor?"

Kerry grunted and opened his eyes. Indeed, he was sitting on the cold floor, leaning against the bed. His legs were completely numb, but Kerry's first, irrational thought was that they must've been eaten by a horde of cockroaches.

He raised his head and saw a pair of red eyes, watching him closely.

"What?" asked Kerry and yawned. Judging from the golden light filling the room, it was morning already. "That forbidden? I like alternative sleepin'."

"That alternative too, huh?" V moved his left hand and Kerry realised he was still holding it. Damn.

"The most alternative part, actually. For now," he said and, a little reluctantly, let go of V's hand. "How you feelin'?"

"Like shit," sighed V. He slowly sat on the edge of the bed and pressed his hand to the stitched wound. Nibbles immediately noticed that and materialized next to V, demanding pets. "But had been worse. Can move and stuff, at least. Doesn't even hurt much. How didya know to take me to Vik? I recognise it's his job," he laughed.

Kerry pointed at his own temple.

"Say thanks to your imaginary friend. He was in charge after you… fell."

"Don't remember anythin'." V shook his head. "Fuck, should've stopped that masked guy," he added, clearly annoyed.

Again, Kerry felt a twinge of guilt.

"Yeah, as for that… Guess it's my fault. That damn contest…"

"Ker, please, stop," interrupted V sharply. "How could we know? Hope you at least won that thing."

Oh, right. Kerry completely forgot about the contest, he didn't even check the results. There were more important things to deal with… even though it was obvious he was the best, right?

"No. No fuckin' way," he said when he entered the Blue Velvet's website. "The second place?! Wait a sec… They wrote I was the best at singin', but didn't pay much attention to the costume… An' I told ya, I wanted that leather jacket, V!"

V laughed shortly.

"Who was the first?"

"Dunno," snapped Kerry and shook his head. Build-in chips which allowed to connect to the web were a standard in 2077, but he still didn't get used to the moment of disconnecting. "Left the website already. Guess it was Kerry Furrodyne…? Or some other Perry Sparrowdyne. I swear, how they come up with those…"

"Doesn't matter right now. Glad you're okay, Ker. Really glad. Wouldn't forgive myself if somethin' happened to you," added V and smiled.

There were so many things that Kerry wanted to say when he was looking at that smile. That he was glad too. That the last evening was a fucking nightmare and he was relieved it was already over. That he Viktor's words were still echoing in his head and he was worried. He didn't manage, as V's expression changed to utmost horror.

"W-what?"

"Don't tell me… you ate that," said V and pointed at the jar of chocolate spread, still standing on the table.

"Was hungry. Added poison there or what?" asked Kerry and laughed nervously. V's reaction made him worried.

"No, not really." V scratched his head. He looked more embarrassed now. "You'll live, chill. It's just… not exactly for eating."

"For what, then?"

V cleared his throat.

"Hey, something happened when I was out?" he asked, ignoring Kerry's question completely. "Maybe Judy called or anythin'? 'Cause I'm afraid we're out of leads now."

Not even waiting for Kerry's answer, V grabbed his phone from the laundry basket next to the bed. Misty put it there the day before, as if she knew that was the place V would start looking for the device first. Well, the probability was high. V checked the phone and his eyebrows went high.

"And?" Kerry stood up finally. His legs were still numb, but at least he could feel them. "Lemme guess. Someone wants you to buy a book 'bout how to make friends? Or dick enlargement pills?"

"No," said V. His voice was serious. "Someone wants to share some info on the case. Unknown number, no name."

Alright. That was unexpected. The case was not public and even if it was, River Ward was officially in charge. There was nobody who could message V.

"Just like that? Who is it?"

"Dunno." V shrugged, but dialed the number. "Told me to contact them asap. And to use the holo."

"Holo?" Kerry frowned and crossed arms on his chest. "Strange request."

The moment he saw who picked up the call, he understood why. Kerry had already seen those dark eyes, that pale skin and full lips. He remembered the expensive, golden-plated cyberware. And the long, bright blue hair. Especially the hair.

"Morning, gentlemen," said the woman. "My name's Ava. I'm Diane's twin."