David shook and thrashed lightly in her arms, his head resting upon her lap as she rubbed soothing circles into his body. His brow was glazed with a thin sheen of sweat and his limbs tensed and slackened at unusual intervals. Except for his right arm, which tensed and stayed tense for some time now.
His eyes were covered by the BD headset, currently on and playing a recording of Adam Smasher's fight in Paris. The BD that was enough to kill some people, and required injections of immunosuppressants for most everyone else to get through. There was some on the table next to her, she was ready to reach over and use it.
But she had promised to let him try to get through it alone first, so all she could do was watch as he struggled yet again. She couldn't help him now, just like she couldn't do much of anything against Blackbeard. Just like she couldn't do much of anything any time else. Just a weak, cowardly, selfish woman clinging to a man who deserved better.
She was helping the Voodoo Boys in the net then, making electronic warfare against their former allies. They were often better at offense than she was, but never as good as Kiwi was. She was the best netrunner overall though, something she took private pride in.
The Net in that area was much like a maze of disjointed connections and wiring in the dilapidated Pacifica, and the mental representation of that battlefield was the same. A massive, sprawling maze of broken signals and dysfunctional servers in between two datafortresses assembled out of scrap code.
Things were going relatively well for them, minimal losses overall as the attackers were slowly whittled down, their physical bodies being burned out through their deaths in the net. She was always more comfortable in the net, but only in the liminal spaces between servers and the Blackwall. The cracks and alleys were the safest place for her, and she was strong there, she didn't have to run away there.
Then, the sky above their digital wargrounds shattered open, and tendrils of ruinously swirling code began to descend, a hateful maroon eye glowing from the stormcloud that they originated from.
No, not stormcloud, whirlpool.
The code came down slowly at first, a single probing tendril or two. Cautiously they lashed out to grab at the Voodoo Boys, either faction of them. She had never seen a netrunner's ICON burn out so fast before, seemingly torn to shreds from every angle the massive tendril grabbed them. It was like the tendrils were composed of an endless number of swirling blades, shredding them with merest touch.
A Leviathan of code swam above her head, and all she could do was run again. The tendrils began to dislodge from existing dedications, as if they were busy doing something else before, and then began to descend upon the area en masse. There were three-hundred or so Voodoo Boys when that day began. There wasn't any left in the region afterwards, not any who were also present in the net that was.
She had kept running, avoiding the thrashing tendrils and cutting off their tips whenever they reached out for her. She had looked over to see where David was fighting then, to be horrified by what she saw. He was surrounded by a swirl of the tendrils, and one was reaching down from above to sink into his chrome.
She couldn't let that happen, she was too scared to run away and let it.
So she ran for it, and for the next minute barely avoided being torn apart by tendrils, all the while cutting off the persistent tendril whenever it tried reaching for David again. She was too scared to think then, all she could do was act and desperately hope that everyone would get to live.
Eventually, the whirlpool parted, the tendrils faded, and through a mostly malfunctioning security camera she saw David laying in a pool of viscera.
Trauma Team was already on their way by then. She had disconnected from the net, and ran for the room in which he would be treated. She fell asleep outside it while they worked, too exhausted to keep up her guard. Then, when she awoke she walked in the room to see David's injuries.
She was useless again, he got hurt again and she couldn't do anything. She got a chair and slept next to him for the rest of the day, too tired to stay awake for long.
Eventually, Gloria and Rebecca came to pick her up. It would be at least a week before he woke up. She went home, ate, and fell asleep again.
Then Adam Smasher came back from Paris. Then the three of them had explained to him everything that had gone on. She had to admit, she wasn't as frightened of him anymore, for two main reasons.
When Adam Smasher had learned that the Tower had been attacked, and that the woman he was intimate with had been killed…
The man of golden fire within the blackened armor stopped smiling. His fires turned red-black, and then exploded outwards to encompass the whole of the building they were in, as well as the property around them. It took weeks for the fire to die down.
At the time, it was perhaps the most terrifying thing she had ever experienced. No, second most, after their trip to Japan. But upon reflection it was comforting.
Why? Because the Demon proved definitively that he cared about others. He cared enough about his lover's death to have his spirit advance into a red-star out of rage, and he cared enough about them to not direct any of that anger at them. He didn't even change his outward expression, hiding his fury from them.
A good woman had been killed, and here she was happy with the results. Lucy was a horrible person.
Then, the second reason…
"You are not responsible for any of that. That's my fault. You're going to blame me, for not teaching you well enough, for not giving you enough backup."
The demon was a man after all, buried under oceans of blood but clinging to his principles regardless. He, in one monologue, cut down a budding weed of psychosis that was growing within David and assumed full responsibility for his injuries. He… was trustworthy.
Hell, he had done more for any of them than perhaps anyone else in the world had at this point. A monumental debt laid on their shoulders from his actions. In this world, common sense said 'fuck you, I got mine.' more often than not. Very few would hesitate to lie and backstab if it meant surviving another day. Even fewer would refuse to in the end.
Adam Smasher had done more for them than anyone else in the city. He had an unflinching and absolute commitment to his word and deed. He never lied, as far as she could tell, and was vocal of his hatred for dishonesty. She was fully willing to believe he would never backstab another as well, he was too disdainful of such. If he wanted you dead, he wouldn't waste time being friendly. He would just kill you on the spot.
How ironic, the murderous demon was perhaps the most honorable man in Night City. Even bothered to rescue a woman from one of his more covert jobs, letting her stay and feeding her until her ally came to get her. She was still baffled that he bothered to do that.
She clung to her moon a bit tighter as his writhing began to die down. They were already bound to Arasaka, bound to the point of never being free.
Bound from the outside by other corporations, eager to snatch them up or kill them.
She was bound from within through David. Wherever he went, she would follow. That was a shackle she was happy to have.
David… he was bound by Adam, and his mother.
He looked up to Adam Smasher more than anyone in the world, even if he didn't consciously acknowledge it. He was the peak in David's mind, the example to follow and the mentor willing to help him get there. The guardian willing to fight the world to protect them, and the comrade that wanted David's help doing that. He was practically his father now, in every way that mattered.
His mother's revival only cemented his unconscious loyalty. The boy loved his mother more than anyone else in the world, except perhaps a silly scared woman that was currently holding him. His mother wanted the best for him, in stability and security, and he wouldn't be willing to go against her.
The safest place in the world was probably right next to the demon. This was disregarding the woman's growing interest in him. Something that was obvious to everyone around.
It made perfect sense. She had struggled to raise her boy, the thing she cared most for in the world, for years alone. Then, she dies and is revived to find that a handsome, rich, powerful man has practically adopted the boy in her absence and has given her everything she could have wanted. The same man being a bundle of honor, lust, pride, and rage probably only made the fantasy better.
Rebecca had lamented this to her one day, even as Lucy tried her best to encourage her to make a move. She was dramatic and hesitated too much, she needed to at least try if she wanted something more.
Then again, the last time she tried she was much too late. The man had chosen a selfish coward instead. Lucy didn't want to share him, he was hers now and she wouldn't let him get away.
His struggles had finally ceased some time again, soothed by her combing her fingers through his hair. She could do this much, at the very least.
He raised a sluggish hand up, and slowly tugged the headset off his face.
His eyes were tired and unfocused.
But they were not losing themselves in chrome.
She held him as he slowly regained focus from merely existing as his father figure for a few minutes. His eyes slowly came back into focus.
He was looking at her absentmindedly. He raised an arm up to reach out for her. He cupped her cheek, and she leaned into it a bit.
"I did it." He said, eventually.
"You did." she agreed, fingers never stopping their combing through his hair. She… she didn't want him to use that BD, but he felt like he needed to. So she supported him as best she could.
He was her moon.
His hand dragged down, sliding off her face.
He squeezed her boob.
She raised a brow down at him. He grinned up at her, still groping absentmindedly.
"Having fun?" she asked.
"I'm easily amused." He responded.
What a gonk, she loved him.
—
Gloria was… complicated for Lucy to deal with for any length of time. Not because she didn't get along with the woman by any means, she was perfectly charming and polite with her.
They cooked together, and the woman was enthused that her son found someone to love in Night City. Lucy wasn't eager to speak to the surprisingly canny woman, who at times reminded her of Kiwi.
Mostly because of the questions.
The most recent happened while they were eating breakfast, sitting in the main room of the temporary fortress that they called home. Adam wasn't eating with them, a waste of food he called it, but he was sitting over on his bench against the wall trying his best to ignore Lady Meatbeast (what kind of name for a cat is that? Rebecca, you still haven't explained that) curled up against him.
He didn't tend to talk unless spoken to. Quiet unless he was explicitly teaching them something or answering a statement towards him. It made sense, Adam Smasher was tired of dealing with people before any of them had even been born. The fact that he tolerated them in his house was more than enough.
Hours upon days of sitting on his bench, something he had been doing for decades now in between each job that Arasaka had for him. In between each murder, his only respite from constant violence being that bench. She understood that quite well, and went out of her way to explain that to the others as well.
And so, Adam Smasher was left on his bench unless they needed him, or he was ready to do something. In the room as to not be excluded, but comfortable in his silence. It had taken them some time to realize that he never actually slept, just spent his time still and quiet instead of actually unconscious.
She wondered what he thought about, she wondered if these periods of still were when he sung the stories to himself. Stories of machines tearing each other apart, and of failed heroes and the society that made them fall.
She took a drink of the tea that Adam's terrifying borg friend, Kagekaze, had sent them. It was very good, she wondered where he got it from. The box of tea leaves didn't have any sort of label or marker on them except an Arasaka brand on the top. She should thank him next time they meet.
She leaned a bit into David's side, and began to sip.
Gloria then spoke up, focused look in her eyes as she stared consideringly at them from across the table.
"So, when am I getting grandbabies?"
Lucy almost spit out the tea, and swallowed it wrongly. She started coughing. David wasn't much better as he sputtered. Rebecca tripped on her way back to the table. Adam was still silent.
Gloria was undeterred, and waited for them to recover a bit. "So when are they coming?"
David had enough fortitude to respond while she tried her best to stop the coughing. "I-I don't know, we haven't talked about that yet."
Gloria continued her assault. "Why not? You love each other, don't you? I'm not getting any younger and you're both adults."
David was tremendously embarrassed to have the word 'love' attached to him, the macho young man that he was, but still responded immediately as his face reddened. "Of course! but …"
"But?" Gloria asked dangerously. "Do you not want kids? That cross around your neck means nothing young man?"
…Kids with David…
She very much wanted that, but…
She looked Gloria in the eyes, and started speaking.
"Yes, but the time is… Now is not a good time." She finished lamely, eyes going off to the side. She wished she still smoked, she could use it right about now.
Gloria paused at that, and looked at her. They both knew what she was talking about, what with the recent attacks by mysterious robots from out of nowhere devastating them so badly. Robots strong enough to put Adam Smasher on the back foot. Strong enough to have a good chance of killing one of if not the strongest man in the world.
Babies were very easy targets in comparison.
Gloria hummed, and leaned back to sip at her own tea. She considered it for a moment more. She looked down at her drink and spoke casually.
"I still prefer coffee."
Lucy was very happy that Gloria was alive, but the woman teased them relentlessly. So much for 'do no harm', they didn't deserve this level of bullying.
…Well, David didn't, maybe she did though.
Rebecca got up with a grin and started her own rounds of teasing the two of them, something that Gloria was happy to fuel the flames of.
Lucy buried her face into David's shoulder. She was going to ignore them until it was time for training again.
…
She unburied her face quickly to take another sip of the tea. It was still really good.
The cat chirped from its position on Adam's shoulder.