Chapter Text
Turns out Goro’s right: there’s no justice in Night City. Best you could hope for was revenge.
V knows that better than most people. His life is a textbook shitshow. He can live with that. He’s used to it. It’s only when life starts punching down, fucking with his friends, that he takes exception.
Bug is dead. Jackie’s dead. Christ, he’d been dead. Only held that everyone involved with the job would have their share of bad luck.
Just happened that Evelyn got it worse than most.
_____
Don’t make a scene. Keep a low profile.
Good words; professional words. They play on a loop in his head, lost somewhere in the rush of blood. He's vaguely aware that it's Bug's voice he's hearing, like the ghost of Christmas past. Fuck keeping a low profile. Fuck stealth. He’s got Johnny snarling, encouraging all his most brutal instincts, and he’s got half a mind to listen to him.
It’s not enough that Arasoka fries part of her brain. Naw, when Night City decides to fuck you over, it goes all the way. Evey’s raped before she’s sold to the Scav’s. Woodman and Fingers both smile as they tell their half of the story. Keep their voices low like this is some kind of boy’s club shit. V smiles too. They're too stupid to see the teeth and the halfway feral light in his eyes.
Jackie would have been the one putting a hand on his shoulder. Keep it together, hermano. But Jackie’s dead. Only one left is Johnny. And no voice at all would be better than Johnny's prodding.
He finally, finally, lets Woodman bleed to death. Fingers goes out with less dignity. He screams. He only stops screaming when V shoves the man’s severed fingers down his throat.
_____
V’s never liked guns. Aside from his pistol, he’s not much good with them. Came from years spent as a Corpo rat, he supposes. Took a lot to smuggle an AR into a boardroom, but a knife? Nobody was looking for that shit.
The Scav’s aren’t expecting it either.
It’s textbook up until he sees her. The woman in front of him is a far cry from the femme fatale he’d had the pleasure of meeting. She looks small without her heels, her coat, her club. All her armor’s been stripped away. There’s only blood and bruises left. Somewhere along the line she’d curled in on herself, a last ditch attempt at self preservation. One of the fucker’s makes the mistake of laughing, digging the toe of his boot into her ribs.
He doesn’t die pretty. None of them do.
Evelyn doesn’t react when he touches her shoulder. She stares into space, sightless. He doubts she can hear him either, but it’s habit. It feels necessary to talk. He brushes her bangs back, unsurprised to find her running a fever.
"Gonna get you outta here, Miss Parker." She doesn't make a sound when he shifts her, struggling her into his jacket. V rocks back on his heels. The adrenaline is finally starting to fade. The high gives way to fear. She looks bad. Real bad. "Stay with me now, alright? Judy...Judy'll give me hell if you don't come home."
V gathers her in his arms. She weighs so little. She feels so breakable. He hopes she's stronger than that.
______
Judy goes pale when he finally shows up at her place. He offers only the barest details over the phone. Someone could tap the line. She's worried, justifiably, but she's been in the business long enough to keep her cool. She wants to cry, or rage, or anything, when he pushes past her into the small one bedroom.
She doesn't. Just goes quiet. Just touches her friend's forehead with a tenderness V barely recognizes. It's too pure for Night City. And they're all too dirty for it.
"Who did it?" She's focusing on keeping her voice even. Judy doesn't look up, just keeps stroking Evelyn's hair. "V? I wanna know."
He purses his lips, lingering near the door. Arms crossed over his chest, shut off. He's new. They're old...friends, flames. Didn't matter. He doesn't want to intrude. "Employer at Clouds, Fingers, Scavs...it's a long list, Judy. Won't bore you with it."
She's beautiful, he thinks. Judy's got a goodness to her, still burning bright, and it's beautiful. She nods, lets out a hiss of breath. When she finally looks up, there's fire in her eyes. She takes in the blood, caked on his hands up to the forearm. "Any of them still alive?"
"Not a one." And if there are any stragglers, he intends to rectify the situation.
"Good." They're both silent for a long while. It's Judy that breaks it, exhausted, hurting. "Help me get her in the shower, huh?"
When that's done, he slumps down outside the bathroom door to wait. He's tired, and bloodied, and suddenly cold. Judy never asks him to leave. She pushes a drink into his hands. Neither speak when they raise a glass in salute.
Jackie woulda hated that shit.
_____
“She needs a doc.”
She looks better without the blood, but it’s a far cry from improvement. Evelyn remains cataonic, curled in on herself. For the first time since he’s brought her back, Judy moves from her side. The distance doesn’t affect her focus. She keeps staring, as if the brief lapse in concentration will steal her friend away.
“Judy,” V tries again. “Hey. She ain’t gonna get better hanging around here.”
Her jaw squares. Alvarez stands to the full extent of her meager height. “And the fuck good you think a ripperdoc’s gonna do her? Fingers…” The words don’t get all the way out. Judy licks the seam of her lips. She knows better. It’s sentiment warring against logic. He knows the toll that battle takes.
“Fingers ain’t gonna touch her. Fucker ain’t touching nobody again, and you know it.” He touches her shoulder. It’s a hell of a thing really: over the course of the last week, they’ve become something like friends. He chalks it up to shared trauma. “Somebody else we could use, though. Old friend of mine.”
Judy frowns. She opens her mouth to argue. He cuts her off.
“Judy...she’s got a fever. What if something’s wrong with her kit? Or she caught something?” The tech scrubs at her wrist. V pushes on. “You can stay at my place.. There’d be people around. People to help, or watch her if we gotta step out.”
He’s right. They both know he’s right. She scrubs at the back of her neck. She can’t watch her forever. “Your guy? He’s safe?”
“Vic’s the best. Fronted me my mods when I was still in the red. He’ll take care of her, Judy. Promise.”
She nods, looking around them. Her shitty apartment with the nice view. “I’ll need space to work.”
“We’ll retrofit the armory. Won’t be ideal but…” he shrugs.
It’ll work.
_______
Shit isn’t perfect. Nothing was ever gonna be perfect in Night City. It’s just...easier with them moving home. Judy’s tech takes up most of the armory. Evelyn takes the bed. On the rare nights when she’s not slumped in her desk chair, Judy joins her. V takes the couch. He doesn’t sleep much anyways.
Vic doesn’t hide the pity in his voice well. They’re both stupid, both half in love with Parker. He sees it and shakes his head. “Look, kids, I’ll do my best but she’s…” he makes a vague gesture with his hand. He lingers on Evelyn for a moment, saddened. Vic was good like that. All the shit in the world and he was still such a feeling guy. He looks back at them. “Go on, get out of here. Gonna be hard enough without the two of you hovering.”
“Vic, we…”
He stands. Vic isn’t the tallest guy, but he’s still thick with muscle. He’s tall enough to make an impression. “Not up for debate. This isn’t your average checkup. It’s gonna take time. It’s gonna require focus.”
Judy tenses up. She worries her lower lip between her teeth. Alvarez finally squeezes his elbow, voice softer. “You take good care of her, alright, doc?” Then, more gently, she adds. “Please.”
Misty goes so far as to hug them both. She’s good too (and it’s a hell of a thing, that all these good people still exist in the world). She’s too empathetic, and her own loss is too raw. She doesn't want anyone else to hurt like her. V squeezes her shoulder. “Will bring you something back, alright? What are you feeling like?”
She smiles. It never reaches her eyes. “Chinese is good.”
He kisses her cheek. Misty has opted to wear one of Jackie's old sweaters. The dubious stain down the front suggests it'd been in the 'to wash' pile once upon a time. His scent still lingers. The sleeves are way too long, but she balls her hands in the excess fabric. She looks like his kid sister.
Honestly, it ain't far from the truth.
"Chinese. An hour. Promise."
She nods. As if promises mean shit in their line of work.
________
They eat in silence. Judy says she’s not a heavy drinker. He is. Nowadays, it’s hard not to want to welcome that numbness. He buys her first drink, setting it in front of her with a shrug. If nothing else, it’ll ease her nerves. She knocks it back without comment.
V has less restraint. They know him well enough to set out a line of shots. Nothing fancy. Just enough to dull any pain or disappointment.
It’s around drink three that he asks the question that’s been on his mind throughout the whole of this shitshow. V leans on the counter, makes a show of mulling everything over. Then, as off handedly as you please, he asks, “So when’d you fall in love with her?”
Judy chokes on a bite of chow mein, sputtering inelegantly around a mouthful of noodles. The tech looks caughtt in a way he’d find hilarious if it wasn’t heartbreaking. “Wanna run that by me again?”
“Naw, pretty sure you heard me.” He slides another shot across the counter. “C’mon, Judes. Didn’t peg you for the type to play coy.”
The arched brow says more than a hundred words. How would he know? Wasn’t like they’d been in business long. Judy traces a finger around the rim of the shot glass. A hundred different conversations are going on around them; he still manages to hear her voice. It’s resigned, but not bitter. She raises the glass in salute. “Couple of years. Forever, maybe. Nosy little shit.” She finishes the drink, wincing at the taste. She gestures for him to slide her another. “You?”
He snorts, and the cheap alcohol burns. “Don’t believe in that love at first sight shit.”
“So...second sight?”
It feels good to have someone to laugh about this with. Christ, it feels good to laugh. “Something like that, sure.” V shrugs. “Figure it’s hard not to. Kinda just…”
“...how she is, yeah. Evey’s like that.” It’s a bittersweet confession, chased with a self deprecating laugh and another shot. Judy leans back in her seat, glancing back towards the clinic. “Thanks, uh...for saving her.”
“Woulda been impossible to do anything else.” He chews the inside of his cheek, desperate to get back to that earlier easiness. “She your usual type?
She snickers. “Naw. Yours?”
V ducks his head, smiling. “Prefer blondes.”
“You would.”
_____________
Vik manages to clean up her tech. He prescribed some antibiotics to deal with the infection. A whole mess of shit that doesn’t manage to touch the underlying problem.
“If she’s gonna wake up, she’s gonna do it on her own terms.” Vik touches her wrist. V’s only seen that look on his face once: bad news, ‘a few weeks left on the face of the earth’ bad. The doc scrubs a hand over his face. “Your girl’s been through some shit, kids. If she wakes up...watch her. Bring her back here. Might not be a shrink but...we can get her on something.”
It’s the best case scenario. They nod together. Judy lingers by his side as he gathers their friend up. She smooths back her hair, smooths the wrinkles out of her borrowed clothes.
The next few days are unremarkable. Judy works on scrubbing BD’s. If it gets intensive, she heads down to the office. V strays further afield. He hunts Scavs (butchers, that voice in his head supplies). There’s the occasional meeting with Garo.
It’s another three days before Parker finally wakes up.