Chapter Text
There were few things Six could be certain of. She liked to tally them up in her head every now and then, they gave some grounding to her foggy, chaotic life.
The first thing she was certain of was the taste of shimmer. While everyone else had their own descriptions of it, gone-bad wine, sour berries, or sickeningly sweet vomit, Six always said it tasted like rotten fruit. At the first sip it wasn’t bad, you could almost believe it was good, but then came the rot, the sour, the tinge of remaining sweet that coated your mouth and lingered long after the shimmer had wracked through your body.
The second thing was that she was a fighter. She could be bleeding and delirious and her hands would still hit their mark. It was as easy as breathing, it was baked into her bones. She was nothing but taut muscles and sharp edges.
The final thing was that her name wasn’t Six. She was certain it was Vi, although she was never sure what it was short for. She knew it was short for something , but she could never scratch that annoying itch in her brain. But just knowing Vi was enough. It was a tie to whatever life she used to have. Her true name. The beaten up leather jacket she wore. The shards of crystal she kept tucked in the pocket. They let her know that she was more than just a monster, a killer, a force of nature.
Six, Vi , ducked into a small alleyway, winding her way through garbage heaps and metal scraps. It was a short walk to a ladder, rusty and wet, a hazard by all accounts but Vi paid no mind, pulling herself up the rungs and onto a catwalk. Her steps weren’t delicate, the old metal creaking and threatening to give out under her with every step of her heavy boots. Her steel toe caps had a dull shine to them, and a rusty coloured stain she could never get off.
At the end of the catwalk Vi propelled herself over to the next landing, metal scraping and sparks flying as her metallic claws found purchase on a rocky ledge. She hauled herself up with aching arms, rolling onto her back and just laying still for a moment, staring up into the murky green air above.
Silco would be mad. He was always mad when a mission was a bust, especially when it was her fault. She’d catch a few angry words for sure, but he’d be unlikely to yell, only true fuck ups had him yelling. It was the ‘lesson’ that worried her most.
Shimmer dosing was common. A strain made just for her, still as rotten as the typical batch, but the aftertaste was a burning mint that hurt with every exhale. Delirium and adrenaline would course through her body in equal measure and she’d wake the next morning with a foggy memory. It would dull her mind for a few days, relieve the constant scratching in her mind that told her she was forgetting things she should know. It was almost peaceful.
Course Silco might also take her prosthetics, a common practice when Vi hurt her own team. She couldn’t quite remember the shipping operation, it was the standard protocol surely, but she did remember a fight broke out. And she was fairly certain she’d flipped out on her fellow smugglers.
Vi lifted a metal hand in front of her face, watching the dull bronze catch the neon lights of the Lanes. There was blood caked into the joints, fresh enough that it probably came from today. With a sigh the hand flopped to her belly, a cold and heavy weight she’d grown accustomed to.
She hoped she’d just get dosed, struggling around without hands was more embarrassing than anything else.
After wallowing in her sorrows for a moment more, Vi forced herself to stand and head towards the Last Drop. She tugged her hood up and bolted off through the skyline, jumping off balconies and sliding down gutter pipes. For a few short moments all worries left her mind, all that mattered was her body and the thick air coursing through her lungs.
She arrived outside the Last Drop too quickly for her liking, pushing past the bouncers and making her way inside. It was loud and dark as usual, clouds of smoke lit up by neon. She shoved her way through the crowds, gaining a few dirty looks that she killed with a scowl of her own.
Vi made her way upstairs, steps protesting under her weight. Stupid old ass stairs, she was surprised they hadn’t caved in yet. She trudged her way to Silco’s office and wasted no time knocking on the door, may as well get it over with. Silco beckoned her in after a moment.
“I’d begun to worry you’d run off,” he muttered, sitting at his desk, surrounded by a haze of cigar smoke. “It’s not like you to get so violent during a routine operation.”
Violent. She must’ve done enough damage. Vi stepped into the room and pulled her hood down, making her way over to lean on the edge of the desk. It was a small act of rebellion, to be so casual, so unbothered.
“Something must’ve set me off. Sorry.”
Silco hummed softly and took a breath of the cigar before putting it out in the ashtray. He exhaled and leaned back slightly, chair creaking. He let the silence hang for a moment before speaking.
“I see.” He let his gaze pierce into her soul for a moment before moving his eyes to the window. “Your little mess up made quite the scene. Sevika is running damage control but our operations will be stalled for weeks.”
Vi huffed a bit. “I said I was sorry, what do you want? Me to grovel on the floor?”
Silco rolled his eyes slightly. “Always dramatic with you.”
He pulled open a drawer, metal and glass rattling inside. Vi watched out of the corner of her eye, if she was getting dosed, it would be now. Vials of shimmer lay haphazardly in the drawer, glowing that intoxicating purple. As much as she hated it, she loved it. It soothed pain better than any alcohol, but left the body in worse shape than any hangover.
Silco’s thin fingers found his metal syringe, clicking the pieces together with precision. He held it out to Vi, nonchalant. It was a quiet sign of forgiveness, mercy. Vi took it and slid closer, leaning on the desk and crouching slightly, moving the needle close to his face.
“I hope Sevika’s sedation has worn off,” he said simply.
Not entirely. Vi focused on keeping her hand steady, she could still feel the live wire buzz beneath her skin. “I never miss. Relax.”
Vi moved the needle into place, took a steadying breath, then injected. She pulled the syringe back and tossed it into the drawer, moving away from the desk to look out the window. Silco always needed a second to recover, and considering his lack of assholery, she’d give it to him.
With a small stuttering breath and a wipe of his eye, Silco regained composure. “You’re free for the night, Six.”
Vi glanced at him before leaving, quietly pocketing a vial of shimmer on her way out. She never had to ask, he never seemed to mind. Perks of living with a drug lord.
Later that night Vi found herself alone in her room. It was quieter than the club, but she could still feel the bass of the music deep in her bones. She’d managed to clean herself up a bit, a half assed shower and a change of clothes. She’d spent longer getting the grime out of her fingers, blood seeped into her metallic joints. Eventually she told herself ‘good enough’ and tossed the washcloth in the sink.
She glanced up to watch herself in the mirror. It was a bit of a challenge, the glass shattered and dirty. It felt appropriate, though, she never really knew the face that stared back at her. It always felt wrong . Some stranger was peering back at her in the low light. Some angry thug, with blacked out, spiky hair, pale skin, and dead eyes. She moved a hand up to her cheek, touching the little VI tattoo and pulling at her skin a bit, watching her eye widen slightly. She was fairly sure her eyes hadn’t always been this purple. It had to be the shimmer, staining her iris into a lavender-grey. But maybe she’d been born this way, she could never check.
She turned away from the woman in the mirror and made her way to her bed, sitting down heavily and kicking up dust. She focused on the remaining drugs coursing through her body, she’d taken a little hit an hour or so ago, the euphoria would soon leave, pain and misery taking its place. But for now, she quietly relished it.
Her eyes scanned the room quietly. If she was going to show up, it would be now. The last of the shimmer pulling strings in her mind, putting on a puppet show for her eyes.
She took a breath, gaze sweeping over the little room, hoping desperately to see her. Please, don’t leave me alone tonight.
Maybe that final plea made the drug take pity on her. Or maybe she was just willing herself to be a nutcase. Either way, her eyes settled on the blue. Bright, out of place.
The little girl walked over to the bed, huge eyes staring up at the brawler. She climbed up and sat next to Vi, choppy bangs framing her sweet face. Vi exhaled softly, settling into the moment.
“I thought you wouldn’t come.”
The girl never spoke, frankly she rarely emoted, but it was enough for Vi. A small hand settled onto hers, fingers tracing the machinery. It was a double hit of cruelty. She could never feel the hallucination, and she could never feel her mechanical hands.
“I botched another job. No one told me why. Can’t remember it but no one seems to think of that.”
The girl glanced up. Quiet, patient, urging her to go on with innocent eyes.
Vi let out a soft sigh. “I’m just trying my best. They know that. I can’t help that I’m fucked up. I’m trying, I really am…”
The girl placed a hand on Vi’s arm. An empty gesture, cold comfort, the feeling of nothing against her skin. Still, Vi knew the little ghostly thing was trying her best. She gave her a weak smile in thanks.
She reached up to cup the girl’s cheek. She wouldn’t feel anything anyway, this she could almost pretend was real. But her mind knew her plans, and that tangled, foggy, web of shimmer knew the best way to twist the knife. The girl was gone before her hand made it, vanished as quickly as she’d arrived.
Vi’s hand fell to the bed in defeat. The last spark of energy beneath her skin fizzled out, leaving her truly alone. She took a moment to gather herself before laying down, settling into her shitty old bed. Regret quickly found its way into her stomach, she should’ve gone to sleep while high, shimmer dreams were bad, but her normal dreams were worse. But it wasn’t worth taking another hit, it would take too long to drift off.
So Vi closed her eyes and prayed for a dreamless night.