Viktor Vektor x Reader

Twelve

Your head was still heavy as your eyes flickered open for the first time. It was hard to tell how long you had been out cold, but as you awoke you found yourself in a ripper chair.

Covered with a blanket, your feet shoeless, you blinked a few times to check your surroundings. Strangely enough, your optics seemed to have improved.

Confused, you tried to sit up straight. But as your stomach curled a little a sharp pain made you lay back down again. A hiss escaped you.

"Fuck...", you mumbled and lifted the blanket to have a look under it.

Bloody bandages appeared. They were wrapped tightly around your guts, tied together with such precision that it felt like a treatment straight from Trauma Team.

"Fancy shit...", you muttered, equally as confused as you were to be still alive.

Curious, you let your eyes wander on.

You were in a ripper clinic. At least that's what the neon sign of Kiroshi told you. And the high tech chair in which you rested.

Cables hung from the ceiling. It smelled of used air and the warmth of running servers.

Besides the obvious hints there wasn't much to see. Just some bare concrete walls wrapped in plastic, a floor that had one too many blood stains and an area that was locked away by a gate.

At first glance you would have guess it to be some sort of locker room. Or a place to work out. But as you have it a second through it seemed more logical to you this was the place where the ripper kept his drugs.

The ripper.

All of a sudden your mind sharped.

Why did you feel so good all of a sudden?

A few moments ago you had been at the verge of death and now you felt reborn. Even better than that.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you pushed the blanket aside and let your toes dangle over the floor. You could feel that it would be cold, uncomfortable, like the first step early in the morning.

There was still a little discomfort stuck in your bones hit other than that you felt awfully good. A little too good, to not make it seem suspicious.

"Hold your horses.", you flinched the deep, familiar voice reached your ears once more.

Startled, you tore your head up only to meet a pair of eyes that lay hidden behind toned glasses. A familiar blue shirt with blood stains caught your attention.

"You...", immediately, your legs moved forward to take a step towards him.

But your legs were still weak, either because of the operation or your body still being damaged. No matter the answer, you slipped, your knees not supporting you and threatened to crash to the ground full force.

All of a sudden he was in front of you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders so that you fell soft against his chest.

Perplexed, you blinked as the warmth of his skin seeped into your cheek.

Fuck, he was fast. So fast, you hadn't even noticed him get up from his seat.

How did he do that?

"You're still under the influence of some heavy medication.", with ease, he picked you up to place your paralysed body back in his ripper chair. "I'd recommend for you to sleep through it."

Still confused, you just stared up at him.

He had a friendly face, with some rashes on his cheeks and chin. There was a smile on his lips as he looked down on you to receive an answer. Some lines around his nose and mouth indicated that he smiled a lot. At least enough to leave permanent markings on his face.

"Hm?", there it was again, that sound that made his voice vibrate in his throat. "You alright, sweetheart? You seem dizzy. Need some more meds?"

With your eyebrows knitted together, you shook your head.

"I'm... fine?", it was more a question than an answer as you looked down on you to find your body in one piece.

For some reason you had thought that this was just a dream. But now that the warmth of his touch was still on your skin, you started to question things.

You didn't imagine this, did you?

And if so, why him exactly?

He gave you a moment of silence, in which you let your hands roam your body just to make sure that you could feel every single touch.

Then he let out a deep breath, or more a tired sigh, and popped down on a small chair with wheels. You recognised the sound it made as he moved closer.

"You alright, sweetheart?", he asked with a soft smirk.

You nodded.

"I guess...", your eyes roamed his face, still in denial that this wasn't some type of what-could-have-been crossing before your eyes in your final moments. "How though?"

Your hands round the spot where the mantis blades had cut you in half. You still remembered the feeling as if it had happened mere seconds ago.

But there was no proof of it. No cut, no scar or a hint that he had sewn you together again. It was as if it had never existed.

"I... wasn't imaging the blades, was I?", you asked, frowning. "One of her blows got me real good... Was it a concussion? I was probably just hallucinating."

He didn't give you an answer. Not yet, at least.

Instead, he allowed you to try and justify the situation for yourself. You made up a story, a scenario, a reason that could explain everything what had happened in a logical way.

A few minutes passed in which he just sat there and listened as you rambled on about how stupid it was that your brain had tricked you into this crazy bullshit.

"You don't think I'm crazy, do you, Doc?", you cut yourself off in the middle of a sentence. "Because I sure as shit know I'm not one of them freaks who loose their minds and see shit that isn't there."

Agreeing, he nodded.

"You can call me Viktor. And no. You're not a cyberfreak.", he said with a shrug. "The mantis blades though? Didn't imagine them. You were cut in half. Almost entirely."