David had never been and never would have been the quickest circuit.

Being perfectly honest at times he was a dial up modem trying to live-stream. He'd get there... eventually.

Now, all those street smarts and a small reserve of academy learning were trying to solve the meaning behind one sentence.

"The fuck does 'I'll take care of it', supposed to even mean?" he muttered to himself. Not for the first time that day.

If only the murmured words didn't make his bruised jaw ache like a bitch. Not that he could fault the source of those words for it. After all, he had been the one to call the number in the first place.

No, the fault for that lay with those brats at the academy, and the beating they threw at him.

A beating after a car wreck. Story of his life in one sentence.

It gave him something to focus on besides the tedious walk to the back alley clinic that his mother was waiting at. When the meatwagon had first come to grab them, he had requested they take her to the cheapest and nearest doc to the accident sight, and they had complied.

As such, it meant an hour-long trip for him to go from the grounds of Arasaka Academy to Rancho Coronado's broken down psych hospital to see his mother. On foot, this was a journey that could seem tedious even on the best of days. But after the accident, and his latest beat down? He suspected it would be outright grueling.

It was bad enough that had walked home from the back-alley healer the night before, body sore and aching. His muscles had screamed at him the next morning when he had gotten dressed. Even now, despite having spent most of the day sitting down at school, he was stiff.

"Ugh." He groaned after reaching the top of the staircase that lead away from the academy. Despite being organic, his arms felt like they had been replaced with lead weights. His legs didn't feel much better, and the fatigue was starting to catch up with him. Closing his eyes against the headache he felt brewing, he leaned against a light post, letting it take some of his weight. The combination of the two actions relieved a small amount of the tension and pain, but that relief was short lived as he got a call on the holo. It further died as he realized the call was from the doc who was supposed to be fixing his mother.

"Hello?" If he wasn't so tired, David would have kicked himself for the nervous tremor in his voice.

"Mr. Martinez, I'm calling about your mother's condition." The doctor's monotone voice rang in David's head.

His eyes snapped back open, adrenaline kicking in to chase away most of his fatigue as the man's words registered with him."Is...Is she okay?" He didn't fully wait for a response, feet moving automatically in a brisk walk in the direction of the hospital.

"It would be better if we could talk in person." The man replied after a moment, "how soon can you get here?"

"Uh, I was already on my way over. I'll be there, half hour tops!" David's brisk walk turned into a full on run as the doctor simply gave his agreement and hung up. His intention had always been to go to the hospital after school, inquire about payment and maybe see if he could sneak in to see Gloria, despite it not being part of her care package. Usually, David would maintain a level of alertness as he moved through the streets, but at the moment he didn't care. He ducked through back alleyways. Dodged around cars that had no respect for pedestrians, regardless of who had the right of way. Ran down every street and around each corner until the sign of the run down mental hospital came into view.

Now in the light of day, he could see just how worn the building looked. The whitewashed concrete facade of the entrance was faded. And while the part of the second floor that had been painted teal was meant to give the place a calming vibe, it only showed off more wear and tear. On the first floor, graffiti, both old and new, added additional splashes of color against the old red bricks. David didn't really care about the aesthetics, only that his mom was receiving treatment.

His pace slowed as he got closer, now noticing the Trauma Team vehicle parked outside the main entrance. The area around it had been cordoned off, several Trauma members standing guard while a couple more were in the process of loading someone into the back. Though the guards and the medics carrying the stretcher tried to shield the client from prying eyes, David was able to catch a glimpse of his mother's familiar red hair.

"Mom? Mom!" He tried to elbow his way over, but several Trauma members blocked him. "Where are you taking her?"

"It would be better if you ask the policy holder." One of the men blocking his path replied, head twitching slightly towards the clinic.

"P-policy holder?"

Before he could get an answer, a loud thud from within the building itself caught his attention. A sound he was far too familiar with.

The sounds of someone getting a beating.

Seeing that Trauma wasn't leaving anytime soon, David rushed into the corridors leading to where he'd talked to the doc the day before.

The Santo teen could hear the groans of pain, cussing, and thunderous thudding that was plenty of clues that someone's meatsack was getting the 'ganic smacked out of it.

Turning the last corner and taking the stairs, he caught sight of a man in a well-tailored suit in Arasaka colors holding the doctor up off the ground by his neck with one hand. Both of the doctor's own were wrapped around the suit's arm in a vain attempt to try and pull him off. Nearby, a woman in a Trauma Team hazmat uniform stood by, distant and professional, with a tablet clutched tightly in her hands.

David moved closer to the pair, his back against the wall at the top the landing in a poor attempt to not draw attention to him just yet.

Another solid punch slammed into an already battered gut. "Have you learned anything yet?" The corporate clad man asked.

"How was I supposed to know Arasaka wanted her alive?! She had no papers, n-nothing in her records!" the clinic keeper croaked out, arms moving in a feeble attempt to free himself from the suit's grasp again. "She looked like every other shit stain off the street with a busted meatsack!"

A vicious backhand made the flailing stop, "Bad enough you were kleppin' meds from your employer. You could have tried running a legit backdoor clinic rather than a chop shop." The question wasn't a question, more like a cold mockery.

"In this city? Are...Are you fucking insane?" The unveiled butcher protested, a free palm pressed against his busted jaw, "If you don't have corpo backing for a biz in this town, you ain't making a profit if it don't profit them!"

"I am aware." A lopsided grin briefly appeared on the suit's face, the load bearing hand lowering enough to where the butcher's feet were now on the ground again. "Hell, I even understand."

"T-then I can go?" The fear in the butcher's face ebbed a little, now replaced with a very cautious hope.

In reply, the suit pulled a pistol from beneath his fancy tailored clothes. David knew it was some type of ugly Russian tech pistol, but he couldn't recall the name. To him, it was a brick with a grip.

The suit kicked the fake-doc's legs, dropping the man to his knees as the pistol came up to his forehead. "Nope, you're done here."

In that cramped little back alley corridor it sounded like a tank's railgun when it fired. David clapped his hands over his ears, trying to silence the ringing within. He shook his head, briefly seeing both sides of the fake-doc's head and into the two rooms behind him before the corpse collapsed.

It was telling that the trauma team grunt in the room didn't even flinch at the murder. That the suit simply stored the gun away with a casual ease and spoke like nothing happened.

"There was no-one else in his patient logs?"

"No sir." The grunt glanced down at her tablet. "All former patients had already been processed before we arrived. And all the actual patients are present and accounted for."

"Was the-" the suit paused for just a second, "she harmed?"

"No sir, Trauma Team was able to locate Ms. Martinez before the first incision could be made." She looked over her notes, "Ms. Martinez was heavily sedated, and showed faint signs of starting to go into shock due to blood loss. She was stabilized before being loaded into the ambulance."

The suit gave a nod, "Alright. Any other complications?"

The grunt shook her head, catching his meaning. "It seems he was the only one behind this."

"No security? Witnesses?"

"The Psychiatric hospital has already been compromised by a generous donation by Millitech and the NCPD." Her eyes flicked back to her tablet. "An incident like this is not worth an investigation."

"Good. I'll file the reports appropriately. A generous donation will be provided to ensure that Trauma's incident report is 'lost'. I'm sure any additional premiums can be wavered with a few figures."

"Understood. The Trauma woman turned to look at David, her expression hidden behind her mask. "What about the boy?"

David was sure if he pressed his back to the wall any harder then he'd become fused to the building.

The suit didn't follow her actions as he addressed her, only stared at the dead man with an undecipherable expression. "As we discussed before, priority one is making sure that Gloria Martinez gets the best Trauma has to offer. Make sure that any and all charges for her care go to the proper account. If she so much as sniffles when I visit, I'll personally make sure every Arasaka account is flagged for review, then audited. Understood?"

The Hazmat suit the Trauma grunt was wearing didn't hide the nervous fear rattling in her voice. "Yes sir."

"Good." The suit nodded, seeming pleased with her reply as he handed something from his pocket to the woman. Once more, all he could see was the faintest hint of red before the Trauma grunt stored the item in one of the small cases at her side. Though her face was hidden, David once again noticed her eyes upon him. "As for the boy. Get the sample from the kid and get out of here."

"Sample?" David found his voice as the Trauma grunt moved over to him and wordlessly grabbed his arm. Still too surprised to react, David offered no resistance as she quickly took a blood sample and stored it away. Instead, his eyes were now locked on the man in the immaculate suit. It wasn't until he heard the roar of the Trauma van as it pulled away that he started to realize what had happened. He looked to where the lackey had taken his blood from, seeing just the faintest puncture from the needle. "What? What was that for?"

"Small bit of protocol for Trauma to confirm relationship between clients." The suit answered, still not looking away from the bloodstained floor and the deceased man who occupied it. "Massively cuts down on the number of lawsuits to come from 'family' upset that their loved one didn't have a better package."

"Shit." David couldn't think of any other response, eyes now drawn to the speck on the horizon that was the Trauma car containing his mother. "Do you know where they're taking her?"

"Some place miles better than here, probably their HQ at the city MedCenter." The suit replied, his back still to David. "Don't worry, it's all taken care of."

Something finally clicked in his brain at those words. "Are you Vinny?"

"Took you long enough." Vinny turned around then, his eyes briefly lighting up as he studied David before looking back at the interior of the should-have-been doctor's office. "Fuck. Seen actual slaughterhouses with better conditions than this place."

David let out a slightly offended scoff at Vinny's attitude. There was little doubt in his mind that this suit probably never wanted for anything in his life. Who was this guy to come in, guns literally blazing, and judge his decisions?

Though he had just learned the suit's identity, David thought the man was no longer worthy of a name as he moved to stand in front of Vinny. Back straight and with his eyes still trained on the older man's face. "What's your problem suit?" He challenged, not caring about whatever iron the man was packing.

Vinny didn't even flinch. Instead, he stared down at David, expression clinical. "My problem is a five foot fuck up who nearly got his mother killed."

"W-what?!" Unable to help himself, David took a step backwards, though his posture held and his eyes remained locked on Vinny's face.

"You heard me." The suit lightly rolled his head to one side. "Or is your gray matter already rotten from sampling the XBDs you've been pushing?"

"The fuck you talking about?" He took another step back, posture faltering slightly this time. The determined expression he was wearing starting to fade. "How does he-"

"What part confuses you?" The suit seemed not to hear the real question. "The fact that Arasaka knows you're the fall guy selling XBDs at their academy? Or the fact that your mother almost died because of you twice over?"

The first question had caused David to break eye contact with a surprised grunt. But the second question brought it right back, now filled with a poorly repressed anger. "The fuck you mean 'twice over'?"

Given his prior responses to questions, there was a dozen reactions David expected Vinny to have. Anger, annoyance, disappointment. He didn't expect the suit to shake his head and let out a sad laugh.

"Just sayin'. If you hadn't tried to sneak around the system, your mother wouldn't have been called in about your server fuck up." What remained of David's poker face fell away at the mention of that failure. "If she hadn't been called, you two wouldn't have been on the highway heading home afterwards to get shot at. That's strike one." He snapped his fingers and held up a finger, another joining it soon after. "Strike two was you dragging her to a fake back alley clinic to avoid paying out the ass, and handing her over to be butchered like cattle."

The bluster left David's lungs with the rest of the air. "No. No way. You're fulla shit!"

"You think I blew his brains out because I like killing people?" Vinny pointed at and kicked the corpse, getting him to look upon the body. "You didn't think there was a reason you didn't get a chance to visit after handing her over? After he claimed she was stable?"

"He said it wasn't part of the package..."

"What fucking package? This is supposed to be an unlicensed clinic hidden in the back of a psychiatric hospital!" The suit pointed out the hole he blasted in the wall, once again drawing David's eyes to the point he was trying to illustrate. "The only reason Gloria isn't dead is because he had other 'patients' to carve up first! Leaving him with no choice but to keep her alive a little longer."

"I didn't have any other choice!"

"NCMC is off the fucking highway you waste of air!" Vinny's hand gestured towards one of the walls, as if seeing the roads beyond.

"What?" The word was half-spoken, half-coughed as he followed Vinny's arm.

"Night. City. Medical Center. The big fucking hospital in the center of Watson. The one with the train car sized sign that says 'Night City MedCenter' on every fuckin' side of it?" He turned a hard glare at David. "The attack was on the highway, literally connected you gonk, to the MedCenter. Two, maybe three blocks away tops! Why didn't you take her there?"

After another cough and several failed attempts to form words, David mastered to get his thoughts in order and squeaked out. "...I didn't think I could pay for it."

"Then you sign up to make payments, not send your mother to die!" The suit's voice had grown loud, an odd air of authoritative power in it making David shy away slightly. Vinny let out a frustrated groan, one hand moving to rest on his forehead. "Jesus-nonexistant-Christ! How is any child of Gloria's so fucking stupid?!"

Whatever fear might have taken hold of David vanished, replaced with his earlier indignation at Vinny's attitude. "I'm not stupid!"

"Really? 'Cuz from where I'm lookin' you define the word 'gonk'." Once more, Vinny's eyes swept up and down David, appraising him. "Your mother works her ass off shoveling blood and guts off the pavement to get your unrepentant ass into a good school. Then rather than get a real job to help her, you chose to risk it all selling XBD gore porn to a bunch of rich kids who'd turn you in the moment it would earn them eddies. If that wasn't enough, you try to save up for more of your shit choices in entertainment by buying a bootleg and end your mother in more debt than the both of you will ever pay off." He paused just a moment, fingers snapping as if to punctuate his next point. "Oh, and when the floor finally snaps under you, you decide to cheapen out again and nearly get your mother killed. By direct action this time, showing you didn't learn a goddamned thing."

"That- That's not true." David couldn't bring himself to look back at Vinny, eyes instead focusing on the ground.

"Who are you trying to lie to kid? Me or yourself?" He half expected the man to lay a hand on him and force him to look at him. Instead, "face it. You have no brains, no chrome, no money, and no connections. Most of your life is a shitshow, and you are the one to blame."

To that, David had no response. He remained frozen to where Vinny dressed him down, eyes focused on the man's feet as he began to walk away. His mind going a mile a minute as he tried to process everything Vinny had said. He was brought out of his musings by an automated message that had been sent to his holo informing him of his mother's arrival at some Trauma facility or another where she would receive the care necessary. That they would follow up sometime in the next 24 hours with more details.

"Well, least I don't have to pay for her treatment...Wait, what am I saying!?" David let out a groan, cradling his head in his hands. As he did, he could feel the dried blood and dirt he hadn't bothered to clean off after his fight back at the academy. "Fuck, let's just go home and clean up." David sighed and moved out of the psych ward, steps heavy as he began his trek back to the apartment.

He hadn't gotten very far out of the hospital when he picked up on the sound of two people having a conversation in the hospital parking lot. Sticking close to the walls of the front door, shielded from view behind the cover of some dumpsters and the building high trash piles, he crept closer until he saw a large black corpo-type van parked nearby. Though the source of the voices was muted by the bulk of the vehicle, he could see two sets of shoes through the gap between the tires, taking on the driver's side. One pair he recognized as Vinny's, while the other belonged to a stranger. Holding his breath, he crept a little closer, now able to make out some words of their conversation.

"...Gloria's been under suspicion of stealing parts from corpses to sell. And here's her kid being a fucking dumb-ass about everything!"

"True, but don't you think you were still a little harsh on the kid?" The stranger's voice had a Valentino's tone to it.

"...kid needs to learn. And sadly, I don't think any other methods will work on him." That was Vinny's voice, albeit now sounding a lot calmer than David had heard before.

"Believe me, I understand tough love...but do you really want to risk becoming estranged from your chica's kid before you get to know him?"

"Jackie...Kid's an adrenaline-chasing BD junkie." Vinny sighed, "plenty of evidence of it in the files from the academy. Take using that bootleg update for example. You get the rush of not knowing if it will work or not. If it does, great. You get the rush of cheating the system. If not? Well, you get to see all the damage you caused." David frowned, eyes narrowing at the van. He hadn't felt proud when the system fried, but he had taken a moment's delight in seeing the pain on his classmates faces.

"But that's legitimate child's play compared to his use of XBDs. Bad enough he gets off to watching those poorly disguised excuses for snuff porn, but to go a step further and try to push that to others? Especially those no older, or worse younger than yourself?" Vinny let out a disgusted scoff. "That's an all time low just to get a thrill. Jack, his mom has nearly died twice over now thanks to him. When she find out the why, she's gonna be broken. And with his luck? The next XBD he'd get is the first person view of his mother's suicide."

The stranger, Jackie? Let out a grunt of his own, feet shifting uncomfortably. "Isn't that a little much homes?"

"It's the truth, and something he's currently too much of a gonk to realize." David heard the scuff of shoes on the ground and saw the shoes of Jackie move around to the other side. The leather and musclebound man seemed out of place beside Vinny, but was obviously someone he trusted given his climbing into the van. Vinny's own shoes vanished into the van, and after a moment the vehicle came to life and drove off.

"The fuck that corpo-gonk! How dare he?" David punched the side of the nearest dumpster, a vain attempt at venting his frustrations. "What does he know?" He threw a few more punches, feeling a little satisfied with every metal bang, stopping only when he felt one of his punches catch on the corner of a pre-existing dent that sent a jolt of pain through his arm. "Fuck!" He cursed, drawing his hand close. Hearing the sound of sirens, David let out a few more curses and took off running. There was no doubt in his mind that Vinny had probably called some other authority or another to come in and 'clean up', and he really didn't feel like getting interrogated if he was found in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Instead, he opted to make a beeline for home where he had left one of the few things that might be able to help him. He cursed as he saw the notice on the door of his apartment informing him of impending eviction if they didn't receive payment. Cussing like a Valentino, he set his sights on the ventilation system he knew lead into the apartment.

"Fuck..." He cursed as the vent cover hit the tiled floor, hopping down after it. Much as he wanted to put it back, make it seem like no one had disturbed it. David had bigger things on his mind. He moved towards the couch and sat heavily, venting his newfound headache with a groan. He turned his head, seeing the bag containing the Sandevistan. His first thought had been to call his ripper again, see if the man was still willing to take it off his hands for some quick eddies. Before he could make that call however, another came through on his holo.

Katsuo

He never bothered to question just how the brat had gotten his number, chalking it up to some bullshit of the school system. He was tempted to let it go to voice mail, but seeing an opportunity to vent some misplaced aggression.

"The fuck you want?"

"Heard your mom's got a new sugar daddy." Katsuo's voice was laced with its usual mocking tones, clear as day over the holo-line.

"The fuck you on about?" David scowled, hands clenching into fists despite being miles apart from the other boy.

"Saw it in one of my dad's reports." Katsuo laughed, as if that was something to be proud about. "She must be good at her real job if her output was willing to hook her up with a Trauma plan."

"Shut up!" David punched the couch, "you don't know shit about her!"

"I know she was scraped off the pavement and just barely holding onto life." David could feel the superior smile Katsuo was sending his way. "I'd offer my sympathies for the whole situation, but I'm finding it hard to sympathize with her." Another laugh, "God only knows what she had to endure to send you to Arasaka in the first place...Her methods really can't have been noble, if Karma felt it necessary to try and snuff her out with a car accident."

The earlier ache in his jaw returned with a vengeance, though this time it was caused by David clenching his jaw with so much force that it was a wonder his teeth didn't crack.

"It would almost be admirable, her desire to hold onto the life she's scraped together in an attempt to continue to provide for you..." The laughter died, replaced with a mocking regretful tone. "She tried to live beyond her means, give you that same life."

A grunt was all David could manage in reply, not that Katsuo even seemed to be listening to him.

"Do her, and yourself a favor Martinez. Save her some eddies and drop out of the Academy." Once more, David could feel Katsuo's grin. Could feel the smugness radiating in those words. "After all, a no good, no tec-"

Katsuo didn't get to finish his sentence as David ended the call. Not that it mattered, he knew it would be the same argument they had earlier in the day. The same things that Katsuo and his goons mocked him over every other day.

The same thing Vinny had called him out on after barely being around him for less than half an hour.

"FUCK!" He threw his head back against the couch, hands cradling his head as his leg started twitching. The action seeming to match the speed his brain was replaying both Vinny and Katsuo's mocking conversations. Feeling the need to move in some way, he grabbed the bag that held the Sandevistan and opened it, staring at the cyberware within.

Originally, he thought it would provide salvation of a sort by being hawked for eddies. Now?

He shut the bag and shouldered it, making his way back out through the vent, determined not to be stopped by anyone as he moved towards his destination. Fortunately, ninety-nine percent of the population of Night City was content to keep to themselves. It took an hour to march his angry Latino ass from his mega building apartment to his wild-card ripper's riverside shop. The entire time his anger at it all smoldered but refused to die.

David didn't bother to knock, instead using his anger to force the door open. He didn't care if the man was with another patient. Didn't care that he had interrupted the old man's personal time if Doc's state of undress was any indication.

"The hell...Who is it?" Doc sat up, looking to the door. "Oh David, hey."

Instead of offering back a proper greeting, David withdrew the Sandevistan from the bag and held it forward for Doc to see.

"That the big, bad Sande?" The ripper chuckled at his actions, eyes going back and forth between David's haggard form to the hunk of tech he was holding. "Already told you David, not interesting in buying that hunk of junk no more." There was a level of reluctant fondness in the doc's eyes.

"Not here, to sell it. Want you, to install this, in me." Out of breath and full of fury, David stepped into the clinic, still panting from running all the way.

"Glad to see you comin' 'round to the idea boy." Doc chuckled, the tone just mocking enough to bring David's temper back up. "Don't you know dat' both badges an' fixers are lookin' for that beauty?"

"Don't care." He shook his head, "high time I chromed the fuck up."

"You know das military grade, right?" The old man questioned, further appraising the piece. "You either got the build to handle it or ya don't...And choom, you don't got it."

"Spoken like a ripper who cares about his clients." David snapped back, eyes callous and determined.

"Oh that's rich, comin' from you. " Doc laughed, more joking than mocking this time as he traded out his arms. "Eh, fuck it! I'll chip you up. You got the eddies to pay for this?"

Before he could answer, Doc was laughing again. "What am I sayin'? Course you don't. But since I like you, what do you say to a trade?" He took a moment to flex his fingers. "I'll chrome you up with dat Sande, but as I warned you, ya body can't handle it. So if you get iced, or when you come back to me, cryin' to yank it off 'cause its poachin' your brain...I get the Sande for free. So what do you say? Ready to rip?"

A sane person might have realized how potentially bad a deal Doc was proposing, but David was in no condition to care. "Deal."

"Alright boy." The ripper gestured to the table he prepared. "Lie down on ya belly."

David coplied with the orders, soon finding himself gnawing on a leather wrapped bar of metal as his back was torn open.

As he decided to gamble everything on what a stolen part could give him.