Chapter Text
\+/ PRESENT \+/
The cool breeze of the early morning draft through the hollow home nips at Brian's wounds... finding himself once again flattened by the powers that be. He awakens on his couch... sitting up he feels a sharp twinge of pain on his chest and face... another brief coughing fit.
Was last night a dream? Flashes of the events fly by in his mind... Graves' lifeless embrace... the idle sounds of his frantic scrambling in the operating room trying to save him... his final words... "Remember for her." Echoing in the back of his head against his will.
Most of the pain is surprisingly mitigated... he looks down at wounds... gauze and bandages have been applied.. some quality patchwork. He glances over to see his blood soaked jacket and shirt draped on his dad's bloody lazyboy. The cold air of the morning wraps itself around him like a new jacket. That very early morning quiet well settled in and almost over... he takes a deep labored breath, feeling his wounds slowly throb and contract.
The costs behind every action you take out there are often paid in blood and regret. Compounding mistakes... unforeseen factors... force a desensitized and often stoic mentality into the culture of Night City. With a never ending flood of events going on at any given time... in any given place... a jaded mindset's created... compelling people to just move on.
He slowly rises to his feet... gingerly draping his jacket on as the strong scent of cigarette smoke emits from the front porch.
Brian slowly staggers outside onto his front porch. He sees the streets of his neighborhood waking up and carrying on like they normally do... already far removed from the events that have now changed his life forever. Shouting matches, dice games, loud music, kids at play... the occasional stray gunshot settle in for the day.
He looks out at remnants of the morning his father died... the intense series of events laying forgotten in scattered debris on the block... reminding him of just how fleeting the events of Night City are. You can be on top of the world one day before it all comes crashing down the next... and completely forgotten the following. A cycle Brian's all too familiar with... one he contemplates regularly... applying the concept to any days events.
He glances to his right... the woman in Black's back's leaned up against the house smoking. He sees his pack of smokes on the porch railing... grabbing them without a look at her. He pops one in taking a deep breath... lighting it as she stares forward out into the street.. the idle smoke from her own gently wafting to the morning breeze. smoking her own in deep thought as
The pair share a morning silence together in each other's presence... just... two people on a porch... neither able to see each other.
"Thank you.." Brian mutters deeply... glancing down at the patchwork she did on him.
"...Who the hell are you..?" She asks impatiently... having sat on the question for hours now... the black leather facemask muffles her speech... complimenting the unique tone of her voice.
"Seems you already know who I am... should be askin' you."
"Lost something more than just my Avenger when i was being chased you know... they-"
"-You mean the chase that killed my father." A dead tone looking out into the street... he takes another drag.
She stands up flicking her smoke... crossing her arms before walking toward him. The heavy sounds of her black leather boots walking across the withered porch add weight and thump with each step... she stops almost shoulder to shoulder.
She looks at him for the first time directly. "I'm... sorry about your dad... Enrique was it...? I didn't-"
"-What're you lookin' for." Brian snaps impatiently turning toward her approaching him... looking at her for the first time directly in daylight.
Unprepared for how close they are... he's caught off guard... again some instinctual thought reactions: "We're the same height... vibrant emerald green eyes... long black hair? Too long for a corpo."
Beyond just his mind's sudden reflex... he can see the worry in her eyes.
"An access card." She replies. Her tone genuine.
Brian looks away and takes another drag while thinking... with a posture of reluctance to get the cogs in his head turning on the subject. Its as if he knows where this is inevitably going... how can he not coming from where he's from.
The kids on the block playing takes over the brief pause. She continues
"Stashed it in your backyard just in case they caught me... came back around later... it wasn't-"
"-Come." He takes a final drag of his cig... flicking it towards the street before walking back into the house. The woman promptly follows.