The night settled over the apartment in that lazy, amber way that made everything feel softer than it deserved to. Amy moved like a whisper through the living room, fussing with a cluttered stack of Void's gear on the coffee table. Every time she reached for a cable or data shard, she hesitated first, thinking it might not be a good idea.
Keira watched her from the doorway, arms crossed, smirk slanted. "You know she's gonna lose her shit when she realizes you reorganized her pile of 'important trash.'"
Amy didn't look up, kept sorting. "I'm putting it back the way it was," she murmured. "Just... Cleaner."
"That's what Void calls a threat."
Amy's lips twitched. Barely.
The hum of the printer in the other room filled the silence. Keira wandered into the kitchen, flicked on the electric kettle, muttering something about "this place collecting dust like an abandoned bunker." It was the closest thing they ever got to peace: Amy quietly sanitizing the apocalypse, Keira pretending she wasn't fond of it.
The kettle hadn't even started to boil when a sudden, brutal thud shook the front door.
Amy froze.
Keira's eyes went razor-sharp. "The fuck was that."
Another impact, harder this time. Metal strained. Hinges screamed.
Amy backed towards the wall, breath catching. Keira immediately jolted to the bedroom without hesitation and pulled out her spiked baseball bat, metal glinting under the dim lights.
"Amy," she said low, controlled, "behind me."
Amy did, quick and quiet, hands instinctively clutching her sleeves.
The door shuddered again, this time with the unmistakable sound of someone throwing their entire weight into it.
Keira tightened her grip on the bat. "If this is another drunk off the stairwell, I swear to fuck-"
The lock cracked.
The latch snapped.
The door blew inward as Void practically fell through it, shoulder first, catching herself on the frame long enough to slam it shut behind her with a final, desperate shove before her knees buckled.
Keira dropped the bat instantly.
"Ahhh, fuck- Void!"
Void hit the floor with a visceral, jarring thud, momentum carrying her forward in a half-roll before she went still, breathing in ragged, uneven pulls. Blood streaked her cheek. Her hoodie was torn to hell. One arm hung wrong. She tried to push herself up but only managed a half-inch before collapsing again.
Amy gasped, barely audible, already kneeling beside her before Keira had even finished crossing the room.
Keira dropped to the floor on the other side, hands hovering over Void not knowing where to touch that wouldn't cause more damage. "Void. Hey. Don't you dare pass out on the floor. It's ugly enough."
Void's head lolled towards the sound of her voice, good eye squinting. "...Kei...?"
"What the hell happened to you?" Keira's voice was sharp, but tight with terror she refused to show. "Did you get mugged or run over by a freight train? Because that looks like a fucking freight train."
Void's breath hitched. She tried to speak, swallowed the words, tried again, slower. "Door... Wouldn't... Open."
"Yeah, sweetheart, no shit, you're supposed to punch the code in, not the door itself."
Amy placed a shaking but steadying hand under Void's head, sliding a pillow there without forcing movement. "We should... Check her arm," she whispered, voice soft enough to barely disturb the air. "It's... Dislocated. Maybe."
Void made a small, pained noise in agreement or defiance - always hard to tell with her.
Keira shot Amy a quick glance. Not mocking this time - grateful. "Alright. Water. Med kit. And... Something to clean the blood off her face before I lose my fucking mind."
Amy nodded fast, scrambled up, already moving. She didn't need more instructions.
Keira turned back to Void, cupping her face gently but firmly, forcing her foggy eye to meet hers. "Stay with me, okay? You look two breaths from checking out and I'm not dragging your corpse to the ER."
Void huffed something like a laugh, then winced violently. "I'm... Here. No... Clinics."
"Then you better stay here long enough so you don't need one."
Amy returned, kneeling again, offering Keira a wrapped ice pack with both hands like a relic. Keira placed it against Void's swelling cheek, her touch rough only in appearance.
Void shuddered, muscles twitching. "Sorry... For the door."
Keira scoffed. "Fuck the door, you owe me a full explanation."
Void's eyelids fluttered. She didn't answer.
Keira leaned closer, voice dropping, simmering with anger not at Void, but at whatever or whoever put her in this state. "Void. Look at me. Who did this."
A pause.
Void's lips parted.
Silence.
Her eyes slid away, unfocused, the exhaustion swallowing the truth before she could give even a piece of it.
Amy gently dabbed the blood on Void's jaw, her movements small, careful, almost trembling. "Not now," she whispered to Keira. "She... She can't."
Keira clenched her jaw, frustration burning hot under her skin. But she stopped pushing.
Instead, she adjusted the ice pack, her fingers brushing Void's temple with a tenderness she'd stab someone for noticing.
Void breathed out, tiny and shaky, barely audible. "Didn't want... To scare you."
Keira scoffed again, quieter this time. "Too late for that, dumbass."
Amy tugged the blanket over Void's lower half, tucking it carefully around the uninjured arm.
The room settled into a fragile quiet, broken only by Void's uneven breaths and the fading ring of adrenaline.
Keira helped Void sit up just enough to lean her against the couch. Void hissed through her teeth, but she stayed upright, head tilting slightly towards the support, using whatever strength she had left to not topple sideways.
Amy was already pulling the med kit open, laying things out with small, precise movements: antiseptic, gauze, dermal sealant, she also got her phone's 3D scanner ready. She didn't speak unless she had to, but every gesture said "I've done this before. I know how to make someone hurt less."
Keira noticed. She didn't comment yet, as she was too busy glaring at every new bruise she spotted. "You look like someone tried to speedrun rearranging your skeleton," she muttered.
Void managed the ghost of a smirk. "Feel... Like it."
"No shit."
Amy softly placed her hand on Void's wrist. "I... Need to scan your head," she said in that shy, near-whisper voice that always made Keira's chest tighten a little. "You hit it."
Void nodded, slow and lopsided.
Amy raised her phone gently, afraid of hurting someone just by touching them. The device blinked as she guided it along Void's temple, her breath hitching every time the screen flashed red, which was... Unfortunately often.
Keira leaned over her shoulder, eyes narrowing. "Please don't tell me her skull is cracked. I don't have enough smokes left babysit a concussion tonight."
"It's... Not cracked," Amy murmured. "But she has a mild bleed... And she really shouldn't sleep for a few hours. And her cheekbone's bruised. The swelling's... Spreading."
Void blinked slowly, as if hearing through water. "I'm... Fine..."
Keira planted a palm against her forehead and pushed it back against the wall, not hard-just enough to keep Void from leaning forward. "You're a liar. And a bad one."
Amy unscrewed the antiseptic bottle, soaking a piece of gauze. The sharp scent of the clean liquid filled the air - a strange contrast to the metallic tang of blood. She hesitated once before touching Void's cheek, then set her jaw and committed.
Void winced, breath catching.
"Sorry," Amy whispered.
"'S okay... You're gentler than Kei."
"I- I'm Gentle because you're bleeding everywhere."
Keira snorted. "You're gentle because you're terrified of hurting anyone with a pulse."
Amy's ears went pink, but she didn't argue. She dabbed carefully at the cuts on Void's face, the ones that hadn't clotted yet, her hands trembling at first but stabilizing with each pass.
Keira reached for Void's dislocated shoulder next, rolling up the torn hoodie sleeve with an unimpressed sigh. "We'll fix this now. Before it calcifies into that stupid slouch you pretend is aesthetic."
Void let her head rest back against the couch. "Keira, please don't-"
Keira ignored her. "Amy, keep her steady."
Amy moved instantly, bracing Void's other arm, positioning her body so Void couldn't jerk away. Void blinked at her, surprised by the firmness. "You're... Good at this."
Amy shrugged, eyes down. "Had to... With my dad. When he was drunk. Before he left..." She said it plain, like it was a weather report, but Keira's head snapped toward her like she'd been punched.
Void just nodded once. "Explains... A lot."
Keira's voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble. "We're circling back to that one later."
She refocused and placed her hands around Void's shoulder joint. "Okay. This will suck. Don't swing at me."
Void exhaled shakily. "No promises."
Keira pulled.
There was a sharp, wet pop as the joint slid back into place. Void cursed loudly, half-slamming her head back against the hard element of the head rest - then groaning because hitting her head was exactly what she wasn't supposed to do.
Amy flinched, almost dropping the gauze. "Don't move your head," she said quickly, almost scolding, which shocked both of them.
Void gave a weak, pained laugh. "Bossy."
Keira smirked. "She's right. And she's bossing you around better than I do."
Amy flushed again, but kept working, tilting Void's chin up gently to clean the split lip next. "You need hydration," she murmured. "And electrolytes. You're... White as a sheet."
"She's always white as a sheet," Keira muttered. "But this is corpse-level."
Void groaned. "You two... Are very loud."
"We'll whisper sweet nothings into your ear when you're not... Y'know... Actively dying," Keira said, grabbing another cold pack Amy had set out. She held it to Void's temple and added, "Also, if you don't tell me what happened once you're coherent, I will hunt down every bastard you've ever pissed off until I find the right one."
Void didn't respond. Her eyes were half-closed, but not in the dangerous way - the adrenaline was fully out of her system, as pain and gravity were setting up shop.
Amy placed a palm lightly on her good shoulder, grounding her. "No! D-don't sleep yet," she said quietly. "Just rest."
Void's breath slowed, steadier now. "Didn't want to scare you," she murmured again, like it mattered too much to her.
Keira's expression softened before she kicked it back behind her usual sharp glare. "Too late. You scared the living shit out of us."
Amy tucked the blanket around Void's waist again, smoothing the edges with the proficiency of someone who's clearly done it a hundred times for someone else. "It's okay," she said softly. "You're home now."
Keira gave Amy a sideways glance. Expression unreadable, but warmer than people usually got from her.
Then she looked down at Void.
"Home, dumbass," she echoed, quieter. "Try and stay in one piece next time."
Keira sat back on her heels, wiping Void's blood off her fingers with the corner of a towel Amy had discarded. She wasn't looking at Void now. She was staring at the door - splintered at the frame, hinge bent, latch broken clean through - with that expression she got only when she was thinking very, very fast.
Amy couldn't help but notice. "What... Is it?"
Keira pressed the ice pack firmer against Void's temple without uttering a word, and her jaw tightened in that slow, mechanical way that meant she'd just connected a few too many dots for her own comfort.
"Keira?"
Keira exhaled like someone blowing smoke from a wound. "She didn't say it," she murmured, low and dangerous. "She can barely stand. But someone did this to her. Someone with a gun, or someone stupid enough to fight Void in a fucking alley." Her eyes flicked to the bruises blooming along Void's ribs. "And there's only one person she ever goes out with who drags trouble behind her like a damn comet."
Amy blinked. "Who?"
"Name won't mean shit to you, but... Luxy." Keira said the name like it was a sour chemical taste she couldn't spit out. "Of course it was Luxy."
Void stirred faintly, eyes half-opening, unfocused. "Not... Her fault," she whispered, voice shredded.
Keira's head snapped toward her. "Void, you can barely breathe. Don't you dare defend her right now."
Void's chin dropped forward again, and she went slack, mind drifting somewhere between pain and exhaustion. She didn't pass out, but she wasn't capable of arguing just yet either.
Amy dabbed the blood off Void's chest, working around the forming bruises. "Why would you think it was Luxy, specifically?" she asked carefully, trying to keep Keira talking while her own hands kept moving.
Keira leaned back against the dresser, rubbing her temple with the heel of her palm. "Because every time Void meets up with her, something fucking explodes. Literally or metaphorically. And let me tell you, princess, that girl has been a walking catastrophe since mid-school." She paused. "And before you ask - no, I don't hate her for existing. I hate her for being exactly the kind of brilliant, reckless, self-sacrificing idiot who thinks the 'greater good' is worth anyone's life except her own."
Amy stilled for a second, her fingers hovering over a deep gash along Void's side. "Greater good?"
Keira gave a humorless laugh. "Yeah. Luxy's holy crusade against the world. She always means well. That's the worst part. She thinks she's helping. She thinks she's saving people. And she's willing to burn anyone who loves her if it means some stranger gets to breathe easier."
Amy kept working. Keira kept venting.
It was slow, methodical, like peeling back layers she'd buried years ago.
"You ever heard of the Kessler Maritime raid?" Keira asked.
"Void mentioned the name once... Said nobody liked them."
Void twitched at the name, barely conscious but clearly recognizing the phantom of old violence.
Keira continued. "A few years back. Whole covert op. Someone leaked internal manifests about a shipment of experimental HRT compounds - stuff that could save lives overnight. Or end them if it fell into Corpo hands." She rubbed her thumb along the handle of her discarded bat. "Luxy wanted that container. Wanted to steal it. Reverse-engineer it. Redistribute it. Help every trans folk in this city who was rotting on waitlists or couldn't afford care."
Amy paused. "That sounds... Good, actually."
"It was good," Keira said. "Morally. And stupid as hell tactically."
Her voice dropped into a low, nostalgic bitterness.
"We planned it for weeks. Luxy drew up the digital infiltration. I built the hardware. And because she's Luxy, she decided the only way we'd succeed was with a new weapon - something devastating, compact, and illegal enough to get us killed if anyone found it."
Amy's eyes widened. "Like... An overpowered gun?"
Keira nodded, one sharp jerk of her chin. "A microwave cannon. X-43 MIKE prototype. Had to call in a few favors with a dude I knew who worked for CryNet. He snagged one functional unit for me from the labs. I retrofitted it into her cyberarm. Took me weeks. Burned half my tools trying to disassemble it in the first place." Her jaw clenched. "I didn't even know if it was stable. She didn't care."
Amy swallowed. "And you... Went with her?"
"She needed muscle," Keira said simply. "And I..." She stared down at Void. "I didn't really value my own life back then either."
Amy didn't comment. She just lifted Void's arm gently, checking for fractures.
"So we go," Keira continued. "Night raid. No backup. No plan B. Luxy cracks every lock like it's child's play. I'm hauling crates like a glorified forklift. Everything goes fine until she decides we need to check another container for more."
Amy glanced up. "Why?"
"More hormones. More crates. More supplies. More of everything she thinks the world needs saving with. And in doing that, she trips a fucking alarm."
Void groaned faintly, whispered something that sounded like "don't... blame her..." and faded out again.
Amy stroked her hair once before resuming her work.
Keira kept talking.
"Kessler's security descended on that warehouse like hornets. Heavy mechs. Drones. Fucking rifles. I thought we were dead." She rubbed her wrist unconsciously, a phantom ache surfacing. "Luxy tried covering me while I hotwired a truck we needed to steal to get out. She fired the MIKE like a damn railgun until it overheated. Nearly cooked her own arm off."
Amy bit her lip. "How did you get out?"
"By chance," Keira said coldly. "Because a drone took a bullet meant for me. Because Luxy pulled me out of the truck and drove away on her own. Because we split up and tried to regroup at the docks... And she never showed."
Amy blinked in disbelief. "She just... Left you?"
"She said it was to 'draw heat away.' Said it was more important to get the shipment out. Said people depended on it. Said she'd 'gladly die for the cause.' She said it like a fucking badge of honor. And it was me who had to slither my way out of that fucking warehouse. On foot."
Amy stared down at Void's bruised ribs. "And you don't trust her because... She'll always sacrifice someone else for the mission."
Keira gave a single, slow nod. "She didn't betray me to save herself. She betrayed me to save her ideology."
"And Void?" Amy asked. "Where does she fit in?"
Keira exhaled sharply. "Void understands Luxy. Too well. They're both netrunners. Vigilantes. They talk in trauma, in code, in wounds I can't see or quantify. Luxy is her disaster buddy. Her spiral partner." She gestured towards Void. "And half the time Void comes back home looking like... this."
Amy looked at Void again - pale, shaking, blood drying along her jawline - and her heart twisted.
"So yes," Keira muttered. "Someone did this to her. And if Luxy wasn't directly responsible, she was close enough for shrapnel to hit."
There was no malice in her voice now. Only tired fury. One that gets out of you when you love someone enough to be terrified of what the world does to them.
Amy pressed a dermal patch along Void's shoulder, smoothing it down with trembling fingers. "You're scared for her."
Keira didn't deny it.
"Luxy's not evil," she whispered. "But she's chaos. And chaos is the last thing Void needs at this point."
Amy stayed quiet, bandaging Void's ribs, as the room settled into a heavy, fragile calm.
Void breathed, shallow but steady.
Keira stared at her, trying to memorize every bruise so she could murder whoever made them.
"I almost died in that warehouse because of Luxy. And I think tonight... She got damn close too."
And Void, half-conscious, whispered one barely audible word:
"It's... Not like that..."
Amy brushed her hair back, voice gentle and small.
"Rest. You're safe. That's what matters."
Keira's gaze turned to the shattered doorframe again - she already knew what she's going to do next.