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Johnny couldn’t stand this. Yeah, V could be annoying but this was overkill. They’d been in this shithole apartment for three days. Three Days. And all V was doing was laying in bed, scrolling on her phone or sleeping. She got up to shower once and stayed in there till the water ran cold. In hindsight, that wasn’t actually a long time. Shithole apartment, Johnny reminded himself.
And he wasn’t going to admit he was getting concerned. It felt all too familiar. He’s had episodes like this lasting days, even a month. It was the first thing he did when he came back to Night City. Maybe that hidden stash was still there…
“V, get up,” Johnny flickered into view. “Come on, you’re bumming me out, kid.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. V barely glanced over. She was watching a video about some fat cats becoming friends with fat birds. Cute, but not what's important right now. “If i have to go one more day in this dank fucking apartment,” Johnny began to threaten.
“What? You’ll what, Johnny, because last time I checked you’re stuck with me through thick and thin!” V sat up, dropping her phone onto the bed. “ And right now? Feeling real fuckin’ thin.”
They held eye contact for a few, tense, seconds.
“V,” Johnny’s voice was softer this time. He pulled off his aviators. “I get it, okay? But moping around isn’t helping. We need a night out” He stood up. “Maybe we’ll find some doll willing to take our mind off it. Or hit up the afterlife for a drink. City of opportunity and all that shit.”
V thought about it for a few moments. She looked over at the window with its blinds shut tight. “I don’t know, Johnny.” She sighed.
“Just...think on it, kid. We’re dying. But you still gotta act like you want to live.” Johnny put his glasses back on and disappeared.
“Don’t have to act shit, I’m the one dying here,” V mumbled but got up anyway. A race was coming up, the final if she remembered right.. Could be fun. Ride around with Claire again…V grabbed her jacket and headed out.
V dialed Claire’s number as she got in her car. Some sporty thing she won from…somewhere. Or from someone. Every night, every job, everything had started blurring together. After Jackie…After Jackie’s-
“Hey, V! What’s the word?” Claire’s voice interrupted V’s thoughts.
“Hey, so…You still need a driver? Last race, gotta be bad luck to switch it up now,” V forced a grin. Claire laughed.
“Sure thing. I’m dropping you the spot now. Meet ya there?”
“Got it. See you, Claire.” V hung up and tossed the phone into the passenger seat. She could practically hear Johnny's smug “I’m right” grin. Which was different from his other smug grins if you really looked.
V parked about a block away and started to walk. It was getting colder in Night City. It felt nice, breathing in the cold air. Better than breathing in whatever shit Johnny made her smoke. Speaking of…
“Told you you’d be a smoker before I was gone.” Johnny was sitting on the bench just a foot or so ahead. There was that smug grin.
“Cram it, Johnny.” V sat down beside him and pulled the crumpled pack out of her jacket pocket. “Last one. Then I’m throwing the whole thing away.” Johnny met that with a skeptical look from over the edge of his shades. “Really. I’m just…having one to pass the time before Claire shows up.”
Johnny wasn’t going to bring up that one had turned into three before Claire got there. She pulled up in that huge tank of a truck with her flag painted on the back. V stood up and smiled. Claire put it in park and moved to the passenger seat
“Hey, Claire. Ready to kick some ass?” She asked as she climbed in on the drivers side.
“Always ready,” Claire had a big smile. “You?” V just nodded and started driving. It wasn’t much farther to the starting line.
V sat back against the seat, head resting against her hand. There were people yelling outside the windows at the other drivers. It was obnoxious. Loud. She wished there were someone there cheering her and Claire on. Making promises for if they win. Empty threats if they don’t…
“Oh Fuck,” Claire huffed and got out of the car.
“Claire?” V sat up. “Claire!” She got out and followed. Claire had started yelling at one of the other racers.
“You’re done, Sampson!” Claire yelled, streaming over to the other racer.
“Get away from me, you whack,” Sampson yelled back, stepping closer to his car.
“Oh, no remorse, huh?” Claire moved into his space.
“None. At. All.” Samson spat back.
“Claire, leave the prick alone,” V grabbed her friend by the arm and pulled her away from the guy.
“I will not leave him alone. You’re dead, Sampson.” Claire pulled her arm out of V’s grip and started walking back to the car. V reluctantly followed.
“This your new driver, Claire?” Sampson yelled. Claire barely even stopped. “Listen, Kid, I’d get out while you can. Her drivers don’t last long!”
V turned around. They regarded each other quietly for a minute. Right up until Claire started blaring the horn. V hesitated before walking back to the car. A bad feeling was starting to sink in and leave her nauseous.
“Claire, What was that about?” V looked over at her.
“That's him. The guy that killed Dean.” Claire said through gritted teeth. V just nodded. “Fuck this race. Stay on his ass, V.”
When the buzzer rang out, V pushed the accelerator to the floor, bullying her way through the cluster of other racers. She got right up on Sampson’s tail. The race never mattered to V anyways. It was about Claire. About being around Claire. Getting to call Claire. And if winning some stupid race instead of gunning down some gonk fucks that up, she’d rather jump out of her apartment window.
So V stayed on his ass the whole way. Stayed on him after he took an off ramp. Slammed on the breaks and put it in park after Sampson had totaled his car and crawled out. Followed Claire as soon as she was opening the car door.
“How’s life, Sampson?” Claire asked as she pulled out her gun.
“Please,” Sampson held his hand up to her. “Please, Claire I-I didn’t do anything!”
“You’re fucking pathetic!” She held the gun out, aimed at his head.
V stared between the two. She felt sick. The fiery wreck felt like it was burning her alive. “Please, Please, Claire, I’m begging you,” Sampson cried. “Please, don’t let her do this!”
“You can’t talk your way out of this one,” Claire’s finger started to squeeze the trigger.
“I didn’t kill your husband! H-He got himself killed, Claire! For fuck’s sake, let me go!” Sampson’s head fell back against his wrecked car, V could see tears stripping away the soot from his face.
Claire scoffed. “Oh that's rich coming from-”
“Claire. What…What is he talking about?” V put a hand on Claire’s shoulder.
Claire took a few steps back and turned away from Sampson. “We were right there at the finish line. And you…You come up and ram into us. You flipped our car, YOU killed him!” Claire shouted over the fire and rain.
“I did what any racer would do!” Sampson argued. “That is the risk he took! Thats the risk we all take behind the fucking wheel, Claire!”
“Claire? That true? Anyone would’ve done the same? If the roles were switched, if you could’ve passed him,” V felt her heart sinking. Her friend’s silence was enough of an answer. Could she really let Claire just…kill Sampson?
V turned and walked away back to the car. Barely flinched when she heard Claire’s gun fire. Johnny was waiting by the passenger side door. He started to say something, But V just opened the door and climbed in. The door phased right through him when it slammed shut.
The car remained silent for the first few minutes of the ride back to the garage.
“You…alright?” V asked.
“Mhm. never better. “ Claire kept her eyes trained on the road. “Why?”
“You look down.” V replied.
“I’m Not.”
“It’ll get better. Y’know?” V tried.
“What will?” Claire glanced over.
V shrugged and looked out the window. “I don’t know. Everything, I guess. You’ll move on.” the words felt hollow. What did she know? She hadn’t moved on yet either.
“Sure, V.” Claire sighed. The light turned green.
“Would you wanna do it again? Race together, I mean…” V asked hopefully. Maybe there was something left. Even after tonight, maybe there’s something they can look forward to, maybe-
Claire laughed. It was a curt, cynical thing. It crushed V to hear. “No, V. I’m never racing again,”
“Oh…” V stared ahead, an empty feeling starting to set in.
“That was something we had, Me and Dean. I just…needed you to get to Sampson. That's all.” Claire explained.
“That's all.” V repeated. Hot tears burned at V's eyes. “That's all? I can’t believe I really thought you were…I thought it was more than just a job.”
“V,” Claire sighed. “Don’t be like this, that’s not what I meant.”
V shook her head. “Stop the fucking car, Claire.”
“V-”
“STOP THE FUCKING CAR!” V screamed. “Let me out of this goddamn car!” She hit the dashboard.
V was already climbing out by the time Claire slammed on the breaks. It was still pouring down. “V, come on, get back in the car. You’re being…That isn’t what I meant!” She tried to reason with her friend.
“I’m on my fucking deathbed, Claire! I don’t want to waste my time with this shit!” V backed away from the car. “I want to go out with friends! I want to win some stupid fucking race that doesn’t matter! I want to fucking live!” V slammed the passenger door shut. “I don’t want to get dragged all around night city to kill a gonk who didn’t even FCKING DESERVE IT!” V’s chest hurt. Her heart was pounding. Her vision was blurry, static creeping in.
Claire just stared for a second. Her voice was quieter, more pleading. “V, please get back in the car. Let me take you home, please don’t stay out there,”
V just shook her head and started walking. Claire didn’t follow her.
The static got worse. “Johnny,” V groaned. She stumbled, catching herself against the wall. That familiar sharp, stabbing pain shot through her head. “Fuck!” She dropped to her knees. She knew she was shaking. The static, the noise, the pain, it was all worse than it had ever been.
“C’mon, kid, stay with me,” Johnny was crouched down in front of her, a hand on her shoulder. “You gotta stay with me,”
“Johnny, I think I’m flatlining,” She tried to reach out and touch him. Grab his shirt, his arm, anything. But she phased right through him. V slumped over, coughing, blood splattered against the pavement. “Johnny, I don't want to die like this,” V choked on her own spit and blood. She curled up on the sidewalk, turning over to look at the night sky. Her vision was getting darker.
“You ain’t dying yet,” V could see Johnny over her.” Her vision was getting darker. Distantly, V he could feel her own hand slipping into the coat pocket where she kept Misty’s pills. “I’ve got you, V,” it all felt so distant now. Her eyes slipped shut.
“I’ve got you”