[ The slow realization that he could lie to the man now doesn't make him feel better about anything. Brain swimming in alcohol, he could easily get dragged down under a wave of hopelessness that he can feel brewing at the edges of his mind. More he learns about what happened, more he's feeling like his freedom's still being slowly chipped away at.
But he honestly believes that even if he tried lying, Johnny would know. Spent long enough sharing a brain that Johnny's probably got a better measure of who he is than anybody else ever has. V's open with his feelings and thoughts, for the most part, but nobody knows them as intimately as Johnny does. Raw and unfiltered.
The difference here's that he can feel the solid warmth of Johnny next to him - a physical weight that's undeniably seeping into his conscious mind like a balm, and thinking about Johnny as a balm to anything wrenches a laugh from his lungs. Imagine that.
The exhaustion sweeps in soon after, his body leaning that much more heavily into Johnny's side, craving a connection that feels like it got cut out of him and that he's been privately grieving for these few long days. Maybe Johnny'd be expecting it, the fact that V's chasing after whatever connection he can get. Reaching out with his body where his mind feels so far away. He's always been tactile, and considering this is his first experience of being able to touch Johnny and feel something tangible, it's a wonder he hasn't tried going in for a hug again. ]
What happened to you? After, I mean.
[ The mention of the Crystal Palace is skipped over for now, the urge to find out what became of Johnny too great to ignore. If he went back to his body without Johnny riding along, and thinking about the way he feels now, he can't quite wrap his brain around having the energy to even attempt something so huge. He'd wished so desperately for a good outcome for the both of them. ]
[Kind of wish that the haze wasn’t going away; Johnny’s growing lucidity only makes this harder to talk about, even if— Well, even if there’s no getting around a question like that. He straightens a little more in his seat, about as straight as Johnny Silverhand can manage, lets the silence linger for maybe a moment too long.]
Well... about all that could be done.
[Which is only an answer that bodes unwell, and Johnny can’t be that mean to V and leave it hanging, so he continues.]
I stayed with Alt. Or, y’know, her idea of what stayin’ would be — left to become a part of her code, a piece of a greater whole.
[A bigger AI, something more. Alt still had a hint of Alt in her, but Johnny had wondered how long that was going to last if she was going to keep vacuuming up stray AI personalities to become herself, too.]
That’s all I really was, anyway: lines of code fashioned to look and act like Johnny Silverhand. Wasn’t that bad a sacrifice, in the end, to make sure you lived what time you had left.
[ Behind the glassiness of his optics, shielded away deeper behind flesh and bone, it doesn't take long for a singular thought to take root that's not altogether different from Johnny's. V doesn't know that, but his own thoughts drag him back to a void, a blank canvas where it shouldn't be. Slowly but surely the people he knows - people he trusts - are scribbling what they know there. Fuck he wishes he was more drunk right now.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he exhales heavily like the punch to his gut had been real and not emotionally-charged. Johnny sacrificed himself and he-- ]
Stop. Just... stop.
[ Falling silent, face still cradled in an upturned palm, V can feel that same wave of emotion that's been following him around since he arrived. Crying's not something he does all that often. Not out of some archaic belief that it's not what men do, but because he got better at handling his emotions. Pragmatism; can't survive without it 'cause nobody's got time to hang out in their small things theorizing. Especially not the two of them. They never had time.
His brain hooks into something that flares hot and bright instead, sets him on a course away from tears and down a path Johnny's sent him before. All of this is so big to fit into his already ailing brain, and though there's a full spectrum of emotions unfolding inside of him, he grasps the hottest. ]
All you really were, huh? Just lines'a code. That's how we're gonna look at this?
[ Even drunk he's unskilled when it comes to sitting still, and he gets up like the bench is on fire, burst into flames under his ass and sends him shooting to his feet. Except he is still drunk, and he wobbles when he's upright, interrupts whatever flow he'd been sliding into. He shoots Johnny a good approximation of pissed though, feels like he needs to throw up all over again and this time it has nothing to do with what he's consumed. ]
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no subject
[ The slow realization that he could lie to the man now doesn't make him feel better about anything. Brain swimming in alcohol, he could easily get dragged down under a wave of hopelessness that he can feel brewing at the edges of his mind. More he learns about what happened, more he's feeling like his freedom's still being slowly chipped away at.
But he honestly believes that even if he tried lying, Johnny would know. Spent long enough sharing a brain that Johnny's probably got a better measure of who he is than anybody else ever has. V's open with his feelings and thoughts, for the most part, but nobody knows them as intimately as Johnny does. Raw and unfiltered.
The difference here's that he can feel the solid warmth of Johnny next to him - a physical weight that's undeniably seeping into his conscious mind like a balm, and thinking about Johnny as a balm to anything wrenches a laugh from his lungs. Imagine that.
The exhaustion sweeps in soon after, his body leaning that much more heavily into Johnny's side, craving a connection that feels like it got cut out of him and that he's been privately grieving for these few long days. Maybe Johnny'd be expecting it, the fact that V's chasing after whatever connection he can get. Reaching out with his body where his mind feels so far away. He's always been tactile, and considering this is his first experience of being able to touch Johnny and feel something tangible, it's a wonder he hasn't tried going in for a hug again. ]
What happened to you? After, I mean.
[ The mention of the Crystal Palace is skipped over for now, the urge to find out what became of Johnny too great to ignore. If he went back to his body without Johnny riding along, and thinking about the way he feels now, he can't quite wrap his brain around having the energy to even attempt something so huge. He'd wished so desperately for a good outcome for the both of them. ]
no subject
Well... about all that could be done.
[Which is only an answer that bodes unwell, and Johnny can’t be that mean to V and leave it hanging, so he continues.]
I stayed with Alt. Or, y’know, her idea of what stayin’ would be — left to become a part of her code, a piece of a greater whole.
[A bigger AI, something more. Alt still had a hint of Alt in her, but Johnny had wondered how long that was going to last if she was going to keep vacuuming up stray AI personalities to become herself, too.]
That’s all I really was, anyway: lines of code fashioned to look and act like Johnny Silverhand. Wasn’t that bad a sacrifice, in the end, to make sure you lived what time you had left.
Owed that much to ya, right?
no subject
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he exhales heavily like the punch to his gut had been real and not emotionally-charged. Johnny sacrificed himself and he-- ]
Stop. Just... stop.
[ Falling silent, face still cradled in an upturned palm, V can feel that same wave of emotion that's been following him around since he arrived. Crying's not something he does all that often. Not out of some archaic belief that it's not what men do, but because he got better at handling his emotions. Pragmatism; can't survive without it 'cause nobody's got time to hang out in their small things theorizing. Especially not the two of them. They never had time.
His brain hooks into something that flares hot and bright instead, sets him on a course away from tears and down a path Johnny's sent him before. All of this is so big to fit into his already ailing brain, and though there's a full spectrum of emotions unfolding inside of him, he grasps the hottest. ]
All you really were, huh? Just lines'a code. That's how we're gonna look at this?
[ Even drunk he's unskilled when it comes to sitting still, and he gets up like the bench is on fire, burst into flames under his ass and sends him shooting to his feet. Except he is still drunk, and he wobbles when he's upright, interrupts whatever flow he'd been sliding into. He shoots Johnny a good approximation of pissed though, feels like he needs to throw up all over again and this time it has nothing to do with what he's consumed. ]
Not to me you weren't. Fuck, Johnny.