CHAPTER 19

We'd been rummaging through Rogue's gear for what felt like an eternity, stocking ourselves to the teeth with just enough ammo not to weigh us down. I borrowed a bulletproof vest from Rogue, the imprint of the Samurai tank I wore underneath it soothing against my skin.

Johnny sidled beside me, cocking the Malorian pistol and grinning at it. "You sure you don't want to rock this? Did damn good with it."

"That's yours, Johnny." Gently, I placed a hand on the pistol and coaxed it toward his holster. "Always has been. I'm back to my original." Grinning, I wiggled the black and gold Dying Night pistol between us before slipping it into a leg holster. "And there's always 'ol reliable." Turning my back to him, I displayed the Ba Xing Chong smart shotgun that'd gotten me out of more than one bad score alive and kicking.

Johnny kneaded my hip with a hand, and when he didn't pull it away when Rogue approached us, it made my goddamned stomach twist in on itself.

"Alright, lovebirds, listen up." Rogue's eyes turned red as she fed map schematics into our chips, the images rotating in our field of vision. "Arasaka Tower is the most secure building in Night City. Only way in is a window of our own making. So, we'll fly in on a Militech tactical bomber."

"Business that good you have choppers at your disposal now, Rogue?" Johnny asked, bemusement in his tone.

A light smirk fluttered from Rogue's lips before she continued, "First, we'll rain fire on the building's air defenses from a high altitude. Then, we breach a wall on the seventy-sixth floor, jump from the AV, and survive the landing thanks to anti-gravs."

"Fuck anti-gravs. We did this back in the day with fuckin' grappling hook," Johnny huffed.

The mapping images disappeared as Rogue pulled from the feed, shaking her head. "But in today's age, you don't have to. Don't be the stubborn old gonk who refuses to store his eddies anywhere but under the mattress, Johnny."

Johnny's lips pursed together, and he slid on his Aviators. "I ain't doin' anti-gravs."

A part of me wanted to argue with him, to insist he sport some. But a larger piece of me didn't want to ever force him into or manipulate him into doing anything he didn't honestly want to do. We'd both had enough of that the past year and deserved a reprieve from it—understanding.

"Suit yourself." Rogue motioned with her hand for us to follow her.

A tall, burly man with umber skin stood at the end of the hall. A cybernetic eyepiece is positioned over both eyes, a bright orange patch covering the left one.

"Meet Weyland, our pilot."

Weyland dipped his head. "How you do—" He started, voice rich with a Jamaican accent, but he stopped short when his gaze fell on Johnny. "You weren't fucking kidding, Rogue. How is he—"

"Alive?" Johnny finished for him, extending his chrome hand to shake. "A story for another time. But I knew Boa Boa, your dad, pretty damn well."

Weyland stood dumbfounded, stiffly shaking Johnny's hand. "Yeah, I imagine you would have."

Rogue continued to deliver more details regarding the plan that, if I were being honest, I only half listened to. Plans were great in the grand scheme of things, but in all the gigs I've done over the past nearly two decades, only a handful hadn't gone to shit. Being a mercenary, an Edgerunner, made the concept of "adapt and overcome" a living statement for anyone who chose that path. Well, you made it one if you wanted to survive.

We paused in front of the elevator, and Rogue turned to face us with arms crossed. "No coordination. No support. Complete chaos."

I snorted. "That should be our motto."

Johnny elbowed me in the side. "Next tattoos?"

Johnny and I exchanged wicked grins, which fell when Rogue cleared her throat like an irritated stepmom.

"Good with the plan?" Rogue asked.

Johnny scratched the back of his head. "Got more holes than a Kobuki dollhouse."

"But, fuck it. Gotta work," I added.

We got onto the elevator, Johnny's hand pausing over the touch screen control panel and giving Rogue questioning eyes over the rims of his glasses.

"The very top," Rogue answered, pointing at the floor labeled roof.

Johnny slammed his fist against the selection, and we all retreated to our own corners, leaning on the metal walls as the elevator ascended. "How much Weyland know 'bout all this? What we plan to do?"

"He knows enough." Rogue propped her foot on the wall behind her. "His cut."

When the doors parted to roof access, the colored Night City skyline greeted us. It'd begun to rain—a torrential downpour more like it—but the distant sound of thunder mixed with the pitter patters against metal and concrete from the rain seemed all too fitting for what we were about to do. We trotted to the awaiting helicopter, managing to soak ourselves only partway to the bone. Weyland was in the pilot's seat, waiting for the door to shut behind us.

"Weyland, take us up," Rogue commanded.

None of us bothered to sit down; instead, we leaned on the door's frame and took in the sights of the place we called home. As traitorous and fucking unforgiving as Night City could be, up here, above it all, it was pretty damn gorgeous.

"Gotta ask somethin' been driving me crazy," I exclaimed, tapping a fingernail against the chopper's metal walls.

"Oh?" Johnny asked, intrigued, and wrapped an arm around my waist.

I settled against him but didn't look at either of them as I spoke. "I see the Arasaka attack you all did back in the day play in my head repeatedly. Know how it all went down and how Johnny got flatlined, but I can't pick out the why of it."

"Ain't that the fucking golden question," Rogue mumbled.

Johnny drummed his fingers over my hip. "Greed and vanity. We were young, stupid, and only saw the beauty of telling corpo scum to fuck off in the grandest way possible." He leaned back to peer at Rogue. "That 'bout sum it up?"

Rogue shrugged with one shoulder. "More or less. We thought we were doin' something for the benefit of Night City, but in reality, we only made it worse. And—lost people in the process."

A nagging memory clung to my brain like a parasite, making me wince. "And I—I mean you, Johnny. You only went because Alt happened to be there, too. To try and save her."

Rogue's spine zipped straight, and Johnny slowly peeled the Aviators from his nose, staring me down. "Old me would've been fucking pissed you knew that without me tellin' ya. But I chose to let you in. So, how can I be?"

A corkscrew curled its way down my throat, enticing a gulp. It would've felt like some twisted invasion of privacy before, but now it only felt like a footnote in my life. A life that wasn't mine but I'd inherited.

"That true, Silverhand?" Rogue asked, her voice clipped.

Johnny let out a harsh breath before his lips found my cheek, placing a chaste kiss there and afterward answering Rogue with a confident, "Yeah."

"Of all the—" Rogue's jaw tightened.

"Was a long time ago, Rogue. And I'd gotten Alt into that fuckin' mess. Figured I should'ah been the one to get her out of it. And I knew I stood no chance stormin' that place alone."

Rogue turned her attention back to the Night City skyline. "All you had to do was tell me that, but—it doesn't matter. We need to focus." She nudged her chin outside, where the rain began to clear up. "Time we give this city another wake-up call."

Bright orange streaks peeled from the parting grey clouds in the distance. Beeps and alarms sounded from the cockpit.

"They tagged us," Weyland yelled.

Rogue's grip tightened on the doorframe, and my hand instinctively moved toward the pistol resting on my thigh. "Stick to the plan."

And this is when the plan goes to shit.

A missile zipped through the air, blasting into the chopper's side and causing instant smoke to billow.

"Fuck," Rogue yelled, her body flying into the opposite corner.

Mine would've done the same damn thing if it weren't for Johnny's hand finding mine and steadying me.

"Get us out of here," Rogue shouted to Weyland.

"Engine's been hit," Weyland shouted back.

Johnny widened his stance, eyeing the approaching jungle at Arasaka Tower's base. "Too late. Time to delta's passed. Gotta improvise."

"Jump," I yelled to whoever listened, throwing my arms around Johnny and leaping from the chopper.

We were in a spiral of sparks, smoke, and palm fronds. I clutched to Johnny like a damn vise, kicking my anti-grav boots to life and clumsily guiding us both to solid land. In a panic with Johnny not moving, I palmed his chest and his shoulders and landed my touch on his face.

"I'm fine, princess. Only thing bruised is my ass and maybe my ego." Johnny grumbled and moaned as he lifted to his feet, his eyes lingering on my boots. He pointed at them and then lifted that same finger to my face. "Not a word."

Were it not for immediate concern over Rogue's whereabouts, I'd have grinned at that. Had she not jumped with us? I spun circles across the ground on my knees, relief washing over me as Rogue emerged from a nearby thicket of bushes.

"Let's get a move on. Gotta make our way up now, and Weyland will meet us. Crazy bastard didn't jump but survived." Rogue pulled her pistol from its sheath and led us in the right direction.

We only made it thirty meters before running into the first batch of guards. Ducking behind metal structures, I noted how many, what they were armed with, and how far apart they were.

"Taking them on one by one is always an option. How you two wanna do this?" Rogue asked, pistol poised and at the ready.

I turned to look at Johnny, my insides twisting at how his hair fell in shambles over his red shades. "Guns blazin'?"

Johnny pressed his lips to mine that coarse yet soft beard brushing my chin. "Gotta check out this psyche splice at some point. Can't think of a better way."

"Alright then. Look for the head officer. They'll have the access token on them we need," Rogue said before blasting to her feet.

Johnny and I followed suit, arms extending in unison to shoot the same guard—both headshots. Together, we moved forward, aiming to the side of each other, over each shoulder, ducking, swirling, and otherwise engaging in the same form of murderous waltz we had with him in my head, but this time—it was so much different. Instead of being one form, our minds were a singular entity, communicating what the other was about to do, where they'd aim, and feeling each other's fear and determination. We'd spied the badge simultaneously and turned on our heels, aiming pistols at the officer's head.

"This one," we announced together, before each pulling our triggers and nearly blasting the poor unknowing bastard's head sky high.

As I rummaged through the man's pockets, all other guards in this area taken care of, Johnny squatted in front of me, his hand finding the back of my neck. "This is un-fucking-believable, Val. We're so in sync. It's like—"

Feeling the card against my fingertips, I paused with my hand in the dead officer's front pocket. "We're in each other's heads?" My lips pulled into a teasing smile.

Johnny shook his head, fingers grazing my hairline before he bumped our foreheads together. "Smartass. It's more than that."

"Got the card?" Rogue called out.

I gripped Johnny's forearm, patted his leather-clad thigh, and hoisted him upward. "All things we can talk about after this is done, Johnny."

"Yeah," Johnny responded, distant and frazzled. He sniffed once and used the butt of his pistol to scratch his shoulder. "Yeah, let's get this fucking over with so we can start livin', V."

We clamored into the elevator, waiting for it to reach the top, and we all went stone quiet. I trust us to see this through, but Rogue hadn't lied when she said Arasaka has one of the most high-end security systems in all of Night City. And it's because they could afford it. There's no telling what we'd run into or the tech they managed to hide from even the most talented netrunners.

When we reached the top, Rogue led us from one elevator to the next—this one leading underground to Mikoshi.

"Shit. It's jammed," Rogue seethed, slamming her hand against the controls.

We peered over the railing at the circling floors that never seemed to end.

"We're gonna have to jump for it," Rogue added.

Rogue and I looked at Johnny's stylish rockerboy boots that did not keep you from becoming a pancake jumping from high places.

"Don't. Fucking. Say. A word," Johnny quipped, pointing between the two of us.

"Oh, I won't have to say a thing. The humiliation of two women holding onto your ass as we jump to the bottom floor should do just fine." Rogue curled an arm under one of Johnny's, grinning and peering at me to do the same.

I mimicked her actions, biting back a smile, feeling the embarrassment and irritation from Johnny boiling in my core. And with a born-again rockstar safely in our arms, the three of us float to the ground, Rogue and I shooting stray guards and Johnny kicking the living shit out of any drone that crossed his path.

Johnny shrugged from our arms as soon as his boots found the floor. Regaining his cool-like demeanor, he ruffled both hands through his hair. "I'm sure as shit never doing that again."

"Then you should be a little more open to advanced tech, old friend." Rogue patted Johnny on the back, offering me a wink, before turning on her heel. "We need to find the elevator to the labs. Fastest route to Mikoshi."

We made our way through endless hallways, stopping any guards in our path in sprays of red mist, the sounds of gurgling, sputtering, and bones cracking echoing off the metal walls around us. Rogue pressed her back at one end of the hallway while me and Johnny resided at the other, catching our breaths.

"Val, I gotta say somethin'," Johnny said low and mysterious.

"Right now?" I asked breathlessly, peering around the corner for any incoming guards.

Johnny's hand curled my arm, and he yanked me to him. "Marry me."

"What?" I whispered beside myself. "Are you out of your damn mind?"

"Yes." Johnny paused to aim over my shoulder, shooting an officer with a stun baton running at us. "I have full faith we're gonna see this through, but I want to hear you'd do it just in case of some bizarre assfucking of fate."

I wondered why it surprised me that Johnny would bring this up during a gunfight. But it did—it elated me he could still give me flutters like this.

Lifting my pistol at an approaching guard who'd yet to see us, I cursed under my breath at the open slide—no ammo. I yanked the shotgun from my back instead and, one-handed, blasted the guy in the chest, sending him flying into the wall. "You, Johnny Rockerboy Silverhand, believe in the institution of marriage?"

"Fuck, no. I don't mean registering with the goddamned corpo government, no. Hell no." Johnny grabbed both my shoulders and, moving me to the side, twirled the Malorian from its holster, landing two shots on a group of guards.

"Do you two plan to move ahead at any point, or are we going to hold up the hallway for the rest of the damn night?" Rogue shouted to us.

Johnny's hold on me was enough to make me forget my own name, let alone that Rogue had been there this entire time.

"You and me. We make a pact, get fucking finger tattoos to make it official. You could even call yourself Mrs. Fucking Silverhand for all I care; I just—"

Not letting him finish, I leaped, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him. "Yes, Johnny. Yes."

Johnny pressed a hand to the small of my back, kissing me before peeling away and catching his eyes with mine. "I'll do you no wrong, V."

I believed him the first time he said those words to me, and they rang more genuine than anything anyone had ever said to me in my entire existence now.

Whipping around to face the same direction again, our firearms ready, we continued down the hall with Rogue at our side until we found the net labs. I ran to the singular control terminal and found an open network before plucking the chip with Alt from my head and inserting it into the term. "Alt's patched in," I announced.

Ten seconds passed, and the eerily robotic version of Alt's voice chimed through the space over the loudspeakers. "I have bypassed security. I have complete control of the building. The way to Mikoshi is clear."

"That was fucking fast," Johnny mumbled.

Rogue motioned to us with her pistol. "We gotta get to netrun operations control."

"Arasaka netrunners have stormed the tower's systems. Stopping their advance is my priority. Continue on your way. I've cleared a path, but you must hurry," Alt added.

I cocked my shotgun. "That was really fucking fast."

When the doors opened to the next room, dozens of floating drones Alt turned friendly greeted us, the floor littered with dead bodies.

"Alt's definitely upped her game in the last decades," Rogue said, side-stepping over corpses and holding her pistol with both hands.

Johnny pressed a palm between my shoulder blades as we rounded the corner. More dead bodies. "Bastards didn't even see it comin'."

"I am attempting to stop a netrunner attack from outside the facility. You are on your own now. But hurry. An elite security unit has been following you and getting closer," Alt informed us.

"That's fine. We're here. The room is just past that partition. We cross it, and we're at the core." Rogue pointed across the room over a glowing orange floor.

We sprinted to the partition, all squatting to grab ahold of the underside and push up to gain access.

Rogue offered Johnny a warm smile. "You can't turn back time, Johnny—ever. But you can always start over."

A fondness for a woman I'd only truly met days ago bubbled in my chest. Johnny opened his mouth to reply, the partition door opening from us forcing it, but the moment was quickly interrupted by an explosion, sending us toppling to the floor.

A borg the size of a Grizzly bear made a beeline for Rogue and grabbed her by one wrist, lifting her in the air. "I remember you, cunt."

Adam Smasher. Jesus. Christ.

Rogue lifted her pistol to fire in Smasher's face, but he grabbed her other arm, twisting it backward and making her cry out.

"Rogue," Johnny bellowed, scrambling to his feet.

My heart racing, I aimed the shotgun from my spot on the floor, praying the smart sensors didn't let me down, but then again—they never had. Smasher's robotic hand lifted, aiming for Rogue's chest, and I raised the shotgun. "Not today, you fucking borg asshole." I pulled the trigger, blasting a gaping hole into Smasher's shoulder. It was enough for him to drop Rogue, but not enough to separate his arm from his body, so I shot again and again and again.

Rogue skirted away, cradling her injured arm over her abdomen, grimacing as she tried to lift her gun but couldn't. "He's not walking out of here, Johnny. Even if I don't, Smasher dies today."

"You all reek of human filth and mercy." The arm Smasher had left flailed, readying more weapons, but Johnny was on his feet, blasting round and after round with the Malorian, every other shot igniting Smasher in flames. "Mercy is disgusting."

"Glad you agree." I stood, switching out the ammo pack as it emptied and swapped it for another.

Johnny moved to my side. "Because we don't plan to show you any."

Me and Johnny circled Smasher, unleashing absolute fucking hellfire with our weapons. Smasher managed to clip Johnny's chin at one point, busting his lip. But the taste of his own blood on his tongue again only made Johnny more aggravated. By the time we were done with him, Smasher had become nothing but a head and torso resting atop a pile of chrome and goo. All that remained was to silence him for good.

"Do it, Johnny. It should be you," I encouraged, pointing at Smasher's head.

Johnny raised the pistol, thumb rubbing the grooves on its hilt, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "Rogue, you good enough to pull a trigger?"

Grunting, Rogue cradled her arm and hobbled to Johnny. "I can't lift it. You do it."

"I'll hold the damn gun; you pull the trigger. You deserve this." Johnny held the gun but lifted his forefinger from the trigger and gave Rogue a reassuring nod.

Rogue's eyes turned glassy before she lifted her hand, shaking and wincing. She pulled the trigger, the sound of the bullet lodging into Smasher's skull, sparks flying, and the borg body slumping in a defeated hiss, gratifying to our ears.

We found our way to Mikoshi, giving Alt the access she needed to do what she would with all the souls in limbo, to destroy any efforts of Arasaka using it by any means in the future, which would inevitably run them into the ground. It wasn't as dramatic as a nuclear explosion, but it would execute them from the inside out and save the city from rebuilding, not to mention the lives of thousands who still had a life to live. Would another corporation figure out a way to take Arasaka's place? We didn't doubt it. But it bought time, and we'd figure out a way to stop every last fucking one of them for as long as the universe saw fit to let us roam this planet.

We made it out alive, and Rogue and Weyland did, too, and that's all I could ask for. Life was insufferable as it was without losing friends made along the way. The world had become dismal, and even the slightest blip on the radar could make all the difference. In my case? It was a big fucking blip, though.

"We did it, princess," Johnny whispered against my neck.

We'd made our way to the rooftop, where it all went to hell for Johnny the first time around all those years ago. What once would've been riddled with security the moment our boots hit the concrete now stayed quiet and almost tranquil with the soft breeze.

My hands gripped the roof's edge, grinning and resting my head on Johnny's shoulder. "We did. Everything."

The Militech chopper we'd flown in on, running somehow still by some miracle, appeared in front of us. Weyland waved at us from the cockpit, his grin wide, and Rogue hung from the door. "You want us to circle back for you in a bit?" The glint in her eye suggested she knew Johnny had something in mind before even I got a hint of it.

"Would you mind?" Johnny asked, his finger dipping into my pants to graze my ass. "And Rogue? Thanks."

Rogue laughed and beat the doorframe twice. "Let's take a tour of this beautiful fucking city, Weyland."

The helicopter took off, and no sooner were they out of sight; Johnny's body was on top of me, pinning his hips with mine. "Nothin' would say an extra fuck you to Arasaka than fucking on their rooftop. Whatta say, Val?"

My hands were already undoing his pants, shimmying my own down far enough for him to plunge inside me. He interlaced our fingers and held our hands above my head, rocking in and out of me, our bulletproof vests scraping against each other. Our matching dog tags jingled as we fucked, an ever-lasting reminder of the promises we made to each other and of more yet to come.

"Do you really want me to call myself Mrs. Silverhand?" I peered up at him, using one finger to move the unruly raven locks from his eyes to see his expression.

His dick twitched inside me the moment the words fell from my lips.

"Fuck yeah, it would, Valerie Silverhand." He thrust once deep and rough, a growl fluttering over my lips. "Fuck. Yeah."

We made love another time on the rooftop of Arasaka Tower while waiting for Rogue to circle back and pick us up. And in those final moments of blissful release, we fell in tune the most we had since a rockstar woke up in my brain with a desire to kill me that slowly blossomed into friendship, respect, and, dare I say—love.

THE END

…except for the epilogue, chooms.