Chapter Text
"I'm afraid to lose you, alright? I'm scared." Those words still echo in my head. You'd think, after all these years, I'd be past it—moved on. But he saw through it all. Past the chrome, past the merc. And somehow, in just a few weeks... he made me feel like I mattered. Like I was something more than what the city left behind.
“I’ve survived death. But this? This is the first time I’m afraid of living.”
It’s been two years since the Aldecaldos and I infiltrated Mikoshi and tore Johnny from my mind. Alt had warned me I wouldn’t make it to winter. And for a while, I believed her.
But then Panam and I stumbled across a group of Technomancer nomads—off-grid runners with tech beyond anything I’d ever seen. Somehow, they did the impossible: stripped every trace of Johnny from my system and restored my engram. Gave me back control of my body—whatever was left of it.
The procedure was brutal. Weeks of agony, like being melted down and rebuilt from scrap. When it was over, I felt like rusted chrome held together by broken wires. I lost all feeling in my legs, had to relearn how to walk—step by step, like I was rebuilding myself from the ground up.
Most people would’ve given up. Honestly, part of me wanted to. But Panam didn’t let me. Neither did the Aldecaldos. Their words, their presence... it kept me tethered. Gave me something real to fight for.
I still don’t know where I’d be without them. Probably buried in some junk heap, forgotten like the rest. But because of them, I got a second chance—flawed, fractured, but mine.
Despite everything, Kerry’s words still echoed in my mind. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. The truth is, I missed him a lot. But every time I drifted too far into those thoughts, Panam was there to snap me back to reality, like she always did.
“V, don’t tell me you still miss that guy.” She said, tone flat and sharp—like an older sister scolding a younger sibling who should know better by now.
I looked away, lips tight.
“I don’t,” I muttered. “I just… I wish things had ended differently. He wasn’t a bad person. Just... scared.”
Panam sighed, arms crossed.
“Yeah, I’m aware,” she said. “But scared or not, no one in their right mind bails on someone at their lowest. Hell, Saul and I used to fight like stray dogs, but we’d still drop everything to save each other when it mattered.”
Her voice softened, but only slightly.
“You deserved better than that. Still do.”
Panam pulled me into a hug the moment she saw my eyes begin to water. It caught me off guard—she’d never been the overly affectionate type. But there was no judgment in her arms—just quiet understanding.
And for the first time in a long time, I let myself fall apart.
I was no longer the feared mercenary under people’s beds in Night City; instead, I was nothing but a broken man missing their ex.
“ Let’s head off to bed, it’s getting late and we have a lot to do tomorrow morning.”
Panam said as she pulled back from the hug softly.
“Yeah... you’re right. Fuck, I’m a mess, huh?”
"We all are, V. We’re all a mess in our ways. That’s what gives us empathy—it’s what makes us human. You think I’ve never broken down? You think the Aldecaldos haven’t seen me lose it? Back when I was alone in Night City, I’d find myself thinking about the family—about all those moments we shared.
And the truth is... I’d break down more than I’d like to admit. Being on my own like that, it just hit different.”
V and Panam eventually drifted off to their separate tents, silence falling between them like a mutual understanding. Even after everything, V found himself haunted by the past—by the moments he’d once shared with a former flame who’d left a permanent burn on his soul.
His thoughts wandered back to those wild, chaotic memories: the night they sabotaged Us Cracks’ equipment, laughter echoing over the flames, or the time they blew up Kovachek’s yacht and made love like the world was ending. The kind of moments only the reckless and deeply in love could create. V couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head as the nostalgia crept in.
He reached for his phone and headphones, hesitating before queuing up Kerry’s album—one last time.
A Vision of Memories poured into his ears like a wave, drowning him in flashbacks. Suddenly, he was right back where he’d first heard it—sitting beside Kerry, watching the older rocker beam with pride, boyish excitement lighting up his face. V had felt like a damn teenager again, caught in the rush of something too big and too fast to name.
“Remember the day we met? First time I saw you, it was match point and set…”
Kerry’s voice, raw and familiar, tugged at something buried deep in V’s chest. For a moment, something stirred. But it didn’t last.
With a long exhale, V exited the music app, deleted the album, and set the phone down. No anger. No sadness. Just a quiet vow to finally move forward—this time, for real.
Morning broke quietly over the camp, golden light spilling across the desert sands. One by one, the group rose, gathered their things, and set off toward the Texas Republic. There was a spark in the air—something electric about the unknown that set hearts racing and eyes forward.
For V, the road ahead wasn’t just a destination—it was a lifeline.
He let the rhythm of the ride lull him into thought, the hum of engines fading into the background as he imagined what might lie beyond the horizon. A new life, untouched by the ghosts of Night City. A clean slate. He pictured unfamiliar towns, strangers who might become friends, winding roads that could finally lead him to peace.
For the first time in a long while, the future felt like a possibility, not a threat. A new chapter was beginning—and this time, V was ready to write it himself
“ Alright, everyone, gather around, “ Panam said with a tone of confidence and excitement.
“Alright, heads up. We're about to roll into the Republic of Texas, and it’s not exactly a friendly welcome. The place is crawling with trigger-happy grunts. So do me a favor—keep it cool, keep it quiet, and don’t give ‘em a reason to start asking questions. We clear?”
Despite the way Panam carried herself—chin up, tone firm—you could hear it in her voice: that flicker of fear, that quiet uncertainty she never let show. It’d been two years since Saul died, but the weight of it still clung to her like dust on chrome. Anyone who looked close enough could see it—the cracks in her armor, the way she hesitated when no one was watching.
I knew it too well. I was the only one she ever really opened up to after Mikoshi. On quiet nights, when the rest of the camp was asleep, she’d find me. Sometimes with a drink in hand, sometimes just silence. She’d talk about the pressure, about how the tribe looked to her now, but she still felt like a kid pretending to wear Saul’s shoes. About how his absence left a hole in her—raw, hollow, irreplaceable. He was more than a leader to her. He was her guide. Her compass. Her father was in all but blood.
And me? I’d just sit there, listening, nodding, choking down my own demons. Because deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this—all of this—was my fault. The bodies, the broken bonds, the blood on my hands. It haunted me. Night after night, the same damn dreams—faces I failed, people I lost. The silence they left behind.
I found myself thinking about the plans Jackie and I made—big dreams, loud ones. The kind that felt too good for a city like Night City. The truth is, it always felt more like his dream, and I was just lucky enough to be along for the ride. That thought… it cuts deep. Like a blade twisting in my chest every time it surfaces.. Mama Welles tried to comfort me—soft words, warm food, the kind of motherly kindness that felt too forgiving. But no matter what she said, I could see it in her eyes. That look. Like she was wondering why it wasn’t me instead. Why was her son the one buried, and I was the one left walking? Pain, grief, quiet fury—they lived in her stare. And I knew. Deep down, I knew. She didn’t have to say it.
I brushed these thoughts aside once Panam rushed me to grab my things and head to her car. I often found comfort in these rides with her, often silent with Nothing but the radio playing—low, crackling through the speakers. Neither of us said a word. But we didn’t need to. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was… comfortable. Familiar. A kind of peace I’d grown to appreciate, especially when I was with her.
Over the years, we got close. Closer than either of us ever said out loud. It wasn’t some loud, dramatic thing—it just happened. Like family, almost. The kind that tells each other the shit no one else hears. Secrets. Regrets. Fears you don’t say when the lights are on.
I glanced over at her, then back at the road.
“Panam,” I said, breaking the silence.
“ Yes, V ?” Panam said with a tone of confusion.
“I never really said this out loud… guess I’m not great at that kinda thing. But—yeah. I appreciate everything you’ve done. You, the crew, all of it. Especially you.
After Jackie... I didn’t think I’d have that again. A real friend. Someone I could trust.
But you stuck around. And now... shit, I dunno. Just feels right saying it—you’re my best choom, Panam. No contest.”
“Ah, come on, V. Don’t get all mushy on me.” [slight smirk] “But… thanks. You’re my best choom too, and you know it.”
Hearing those words come out of Panam’s mouth… it hit different. Like something inside me finally clicked back into place. Healed, almost—like a scar I forgot was still there. All those so-called friends from the past... turned out, most of 'em just saw me as a free merc with a pulse. Nothing real.
But this? Her? It was real. And I didn’t even know how much I needed to hear it until I did.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, I let my eyes fall shut, letting the music from the radio wash over me. Music had become a sort of escapism from the harsh realities, a way to quiet the thoughts that used to eat at me back when the idea of fading out, of becoming nothing more than chrome and meat left to rot in the Badlands, kept me up at night. Music had also become a way for me to feel closer to Kerry and bring back the love he and I once shared.
“ Helloo listeners, You’re tuned in to 92.9 The Pulse—bringing you the best in curated sound from across the country. Up next, a brand-new release from none other than Kerry Eurodyne”.
As soon as I heard that name I quickly opened my eyes and began to feel a sense of panic. My heart started pounding in my chest—fast, uneven. Hands turned clammy, shaking. My vision blurred, and before I knew it, my eyes were stinging, full of tears I didn’t even realize were coming.
Breathing got hard. Shallow. Fast. I felt like I was gonna be sick—like my body was rejecting the moment, the memory, all of it.
Panam noticed right away. She reached for the radio, trying to switch the station, but in that moment, it was like the damn thing refused to work. Every button she pressed did nothing. Frustrated, she started jabbing at them harder, even smacking the screen with her palm. As she fought with it, her driving turned erratic—swerving from lane to lane, drawing the attention of the others behind us.
“ Panam what is going on over there” Mitch said with a tone of urgency.
“We need to pull over—now! Something’s wrong with V!”
As Panam and the group pulled over the radio suddenly decided to change stations, almost like the world wanted to punish me but by this point I was nothing more than a crying mess.
“V, hey—calm down, alright? It’s gonna be okay. Stay with me, you hear? Just breathe—deep breaths, in and out. I’ve got you.” Panam said as she looked into my eyes with a reassuring tone
“ I can’t Panam , I just can’t , I’m sorry”
“Calm down V , alright it’s gonna be ok”
“What happened ? Is everything alright” Mitch said as he came to a stop.
“ I’ll be right back stay here ok “ Panam said as she walked away in a fast pace to talk to mitch.
The once-feared merc of Night City. The legend of Afterlife. The one who took down Night City’s Boogeyman . And now? Just a sweaty, panicked mess in the passenger seat.
V could feel the shame crawl up his spine. Disappointment settled heavy in his chest. How the hell does someone like him—someone who’s been through hell and back—fall to pieces over a name? A name he used to say every damn day, with such giddy and excitement like a fangirl who just met her idol.
As V gathered his composure Panam headed back letting the others know that they’d rest up here for the night as it was beginning to be late.
“ Hey V , everything ok now ?” Panam said with a concerned tone.
“Yea I’m all better now, sorry you had to see that”
Panam came closer and rubbed V’s shoulder, her tone soft but steady, reassuring. She knew how vulnerable he became at just the mention of Kerry’s name. She’d seen it before—watched him cry through long nights, lost in memories of their relationship. She’d heard the screams echo from his tent during those brutal nightmares he could never quite shake.
But despite all of that, in her eyes, he was still the same strong, charming, and fearless man she had always known. Nothing could change that—not the pain, not the panic, not even the way his heart broke every time the past resurfaced.
Still, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t hold a particular grudge against the famous rockerboy. She’d had her doubts even before—those flashy headlines, the half-truths in the tabloids. But after witnessing how he left her closest friend behind, how he vanished when V needed him most... that sealed it. Since then, just hearing his name left a sour taste in her mouth.
Panam had had her share of bad breakups and ex lover’s but they all didn’t compare to the ex her friend once had.
“Hey, get your tent set up—we’re resting here for the night. You can handle that, right?”
“Yeah… of course I can, Panam,” V replied, the stress in his voice sharper than he meant it to be.
Panam paused, caught off guard by his tone. V noticed instantly—the flicker in her expression, the way her brow twitched just slightly. The moment of silence hit him like a slap, and he realized how snarky he must’ve sounded.
“ Im sorry Panam I didn’t mean it that way”
“It’s fine V, I know you meant not to “ Panam responded with a tone of reassurance.
As the sky darkened and night settled over the Badlands, the group began finishing up camp and gathering around to set up their usual bonfire. It had become a regular ritual—one that gave the clan a chance to vent their frustrations, swap stories, and grow closer as a family.
“ Hey V everything ok “ Panam asked as she leaned over the entrance of V’s tent.
“Yeah… I think I’m okay now. Thanks for being there, really. I don’t know what that was—just… everything hit me all at once. Felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
“ We’ve all had our fair share of panic attacks every now and then , bonfire’s all set up for when you wanna head over”
“Yeah I'll be over in a minute, I just wanna freshen up a bit, I’m a bit sweaty after what happened back there,” V said with a slight smile.
Panam gave him a nod and headed over with the rest of the clan, while V stayed back, still trying to grasp what happened.
Shortly after, he began to head over with the group, stretching his neck a bit before heading over. He began to grow accustomed to the frequent tenseness and pain, a side effect from the amount of treatments he endured as his DNA had to essentially be rewritten to allow Johnny’s to leave his body.
He often thought back to Johnny’s responses and snarky comments, usually reminiscing about them. He’d be lying if he didn’t say he didnt miss the fucker a tiny bit and to be frank he had to admit the hardest part wasn’t learning how to walk again or how to grip a fork again but rather it was dealing with the silence in his head and the voice of a man who went from being an enemy to a friend.
Shaking off the thoughts, V headed over to the rest of the group, notebook in hand, bracing himself for the inevitable questions about his sudden panic attack. But instead, he was met with smiles and cheers.
“Hey, there’s the man,” Carol said, her voice bright with cheer.
“About time,” Dakota added with a hint of sarcasm.
“Hey, hey—let the man rest. He’s had a long day,” Mitch said, stepping in defensively.
“Come on, V. Sit down and catch a break—Mitch was just about to tell us another one of his old-timer war stories,” Panam chimed in with a smirk.
V sat down on a nearby box beside Panam, clutching his notebook tightly.
“What you got there, V?” Cassidy asked, curiosity in his voice.
“This? Just my notebook. I like to write in my downtime.”
“Write? What do you like to write about?” Cassidy pressed, the tone almost fatherly.
“Nothing too special. I usually write songs—helps drown out the thoughts when they get too loud at least.”
“Songs? You write songs?” Panam repeated, her interest piqued.
“Right... I guess I never mentioned that. It helped a lot—thought I’d give it a shot after, you know... he left me behind.”
At the sudden mention, the clan erupted in boos. Most of them had developed a shared distaste for the rockstar—after all, the whole spectacle had played out in front of everyone. None of them could understand how someone could abandon their partner in such a vulnerable moment.
But instead of tensing up, V laughed.
For the first time in a while, he laughed at the mention of Kerry—no fear, no anxiety, no hurt.