The Song Remains the Same

[Pacifica Boulevard Underpass, the Glen, Heywood]

It was a typical day in the neighborhood, the sun peering down through the buildings and illuminating the streets as people carried on about their lives. Street vendors and passersby alike called out to each other, arguing and haggling over prices as older Heywood natives stood outside the numerous bodegas and gossiped. Music was playing from parked cars or the various shops lining both sides of the Boulevard. Even if the ever-present air of corpo oppression draped a suffocating pall over the City, this small enclave was alive and well, and celebrating that fact.

And then there was the underpass... if the Boulevard was vibrant and teeming with life, the Underpass was where those dreams went to die. Rows of tents, rotted husks of cars, and cardboard cities hosted the Glen's homeless and the filthy mattresses on which they laid their heads... all of them fighting each other and just trying to get by. The local Valentinos color was ever-present, pushing drugs and collecting debts. The sun never reached here, the darkness consuming everything in its path.

Two beat cops marched down the sidewalk, eyes open and aware of anything and everything going on around them. Their polished badges shined against puffed-up chests dressed in navy blue and body armor, painting them in a rarified authoritative air as people cleared a path. Corrupt as the Night City Police Department was, nobody was stupid enough to fuck with them, even in a place as dismal and distraught as this. The huddled masses all around watched as the two civil servants... in the loosest possible definition... stepped carefully over the piles of trash and refuse as they talked among each other, mostly berating the underpass's squalid inhabitants.

If their twisted sense of duty didn't compel them, neither officer would willingly have anything to do with this place, choosing instead to leave it to its own devices and let the people eat at and tear each other apart. To the police, these squatter encampments, increasingly present around all the City's districts, represented nothing more than the absolute dregs of society, better left to rotting where they sat than any active welfare... but they also always served up a decent bust, if for no other purpose than to give the patrolling officers a chance to fuck off for the day and sit at a desk behind the excuse of filling out paperwork and processing forms.

Word on the street was that a familiar face not seen in almost two years had suddenly turned up again... back to their usual tricks... and the cops kept their ears attuned and eyes peeled for anything to stand out and point them in the right direction. One of the officers was an experienced sergeant... grizzled, gruff, and world-weary. His partner was a boot, fresh out of the Academy and already a chip off the old block from the sergeant. The boot followed his senior like a lost puppy, eager to please and coo up for a pat on the head and a chance at being an even bigger asshole than those that walked the path before him.

They both turned, the sergeant motioning to keep quiet as they stepped carefully and passed yet another row of shanty shelters, the splashing light from the sun all but lost in this dark and dank corner of the underpass. They both spotted an easy mark facing the wall, his back to them both. His legs were spread shoulder-width apart with his pants caught around his knees, a shoddy suit jacket and shirt tails hanging down and brushing against his bare ass. His head was craned back as he grunted, thrusting his hips back and forth.

What really had the cops' attention wasn't the scruffy young man... but rather his partner. Hidden behind the man and visible through his legs was a petite female figure crouched on the balls of her feet with legs spread wide, arms pinned above her head and held in place. The man's grunts were answered by her guttural gags, a trail of spit visible and running down her bulging neck to soak an unwashed skin-tight pink tube top.

Both of the cops looked to each other with a smirk before turning off their department-issued body cams as the sergeant placed his hand on his holstered iron and shouted, voice low and gruff, "NCPD! Hands where I can see 'em!"

"OH SHIT!!!", shouted the man as he shoved the girl back, her head smacking against the concrete wall. He grabbed the waist of his pants and turned to run, tripping over his own two feet before he found his balance. He awkwardly staggered away with all the speed he could muster as the two cops laughed and stepped forward. They weren't really interested in some gonk getting a cheap mouth hug... but a poor girl turning tricks in broad daylight was an easy ticket.

The girl groaned between coughing fits, resigned to sitting on the damp ground, awash in her own intoxication and wasted arousal as she rubbed the back of her now possibly concussed head. The sergeant taunted her with a smile, "Well, well, well... if it ain't little miss Maya Valdez! ...the best throat in the West..."

Maya spat and wiped the run-off from her face as she looked up through the haze of her head spinning with apathy in her eyes and disdain in her voice, "...McCluskey..."

The sergeant held his utility belt as he shifted back and forth on his feet, "Heard tell you were back on the streets... where the fuck have you been the last couple of years?!"

They had her dead to rights, no way out, and she leaned back against the wall as she locked eyes with McCluskey, "Shackin' up with your wife... she says hello."

—SMACK—

The sergeant's heavy hand crossed Maya's face as she cried out, crashing to her side on the ground. The impact was sobering, and she shook her head as she tried to recover. The sergeant knelt down, hands on his knees as he stared long and hard. Her skin was covered in a fortnight's worth of dirt and grime, her baggy cargo cut-offs soiled, and her shaggy hair was a tousled mess. He looked to his partner and asked, "Ya see how she went for my gun, boot?"

The rookie laughed, keeping his distance as he obliged the senior officer, "No choice, she was resisting... saw it all with my own eyes..."

McCluskey looked back down at Maya trying to pull herself together as she cut to the rookie, "Oh good, another crooked cocksucker with a badge... you know you just cost me fifty eddies?"

The sergeant stood up, taking a quick look around, "Say, where's your little brother... Tony, right?"

Maya looked at the ground, her eyes clouding over as she fired back, "...fuck you..."

"Fuck me?!", McCluskey laughed as he grabbed a handful of her matted hair and pulled her up, "How's about I fuck you ragged, you little shit!"

He expected to see fear behind the diminishing pink glow in her eyes, but instead was met with an empty stare. She was still loaded, entirely indifferent to her circumstances. The rookie turned away to stand watch, making sure to cover his sergeant for whatever was about to happen. Instead, the sergeant threw Maya to the ground as he turned, "Guess some things never change... cuff this cunt before my hard-on gets the better of me."

They switched places, the rookie pulling Maya off the ground and pushing her against the wall as he barked, "Palms flat, legs out!"

He kicked her feet out and apart as he frisked her, his hands wandering and lingering a little too long as he felt all of her curves. Sergeant McCluskey was a known quantity, having detained her several times in the past before having his way. She knew this little episode would probably end the same way, and she was half-tempted to take her shot at teaching the rookie a lesson. Of course, that was before he grabbed both of her wrists, pulling her arms down and back as he secured both cuffs tightly around her wrists. She felt the cold metal cutting and chafing before the rookie bent her arms out and reached around to her front. He pressed himself against her, pinning her legs out as one hand reached under her tube top to cop a feel as the other disappeared down her pants. He carelessly rummaged around, finding her sweet spot still moist from her prior engagement as he chuckled in her ear.

Maya shut her eyes and held her breath in a futile attempt to block it out, her hands curling into fists as the rookie massaged her, spreading her lips apart and forcing two fingers inside. She fought the flush in her cheeks, her entire body warming at the pig's rough touch. McCluskey turned his head, unsurprised as he rolled his eyes, "Want to get your dick wet, you got five minutes... hurry the fuck up and get it over with."

"Fucking pig! Let me go!", Maya took her chance and struggled in vain as the rookie berated her, "Sure! You can have it your way and we'll just toss you in with the rest of the animals for being an uncooperative bitch... you won't last an hour."

As much as Maya didn't want to, she stopped struggling. She knew firsthand that with McCluskey present, the rookie wasn't bullshitting... she had been down that road before. Nothing got the NCPD's frequent flyers in lockup foaming at the mouths quite like a supple sixteen year old girl tossed in a gen-pop cell. The rookie growled with delight as he pulled his hands free. He shoved his slick fingers in her mouth, letting her taste herself while he forced her pants down just far enough to expose her bare ass. His mouth watered as he gave one cheek a firm slap, enjoying the ample flesh jiggling as she yelped.

He pulled her out and away from the wall, turning and grabbing both of her wrists as he pushed up and pulled back. Maya was forced to bend over at the waist, her back arched and her arms held at an unnatural angle from behind, her shoulders straining as she struggled to balance on the tips of her toes. The blood rushed to her head while she tried to shut it all out, the rookie hurriedly undoing his pants with one hand. He exposed himself fully erect, giving no warning as he negotiated his girth between Maya's legs and shoved himself inside.

She gritted her teeth and tried to stifle another yelp as the tears fell from her eyes. With every shove and pull of the pig's cock in and out of her, his grunting moans assaulted her ears. After only a minute of the abuse, she finally caved, releasing the held breath as she whimpered and pled. It fell on deaf ears as the rookie laughed and turned to his sergeant, "Hey, she's already lubed up! Why don't you have a go?"

McCluskey stood firm with his back to them... not that he was ashamed. He wanted to make sure nobody interfered as he called back, "Nah... had my fill back when she was just a kid... still fresh on the streets. Who the fuck knows what she's got now..."

"Guess I'll need to see the 'doc when we get back...", the rookie joked with rhythmic emphasis on every other word between thrusts answered by Maya's crying moans. As far as anyone else was concerned, it was just another day in the gentle care of Night City's Finest...

--

[Later that day - NCPD Precinct holding cells, the Glen, Heywood]

If there were such a thing as a zoo in Night City, the NCPD's holding cells ranked second by mere inches. The entire space reeked of filth... body odor, stale piss, festering waste, and cigarette smoke permeating every surface cheaply painted in layers of sick-shit yellow. The raucous screams and cheers of the other inmates rang up and down the halls, and they only grew louder when the intake officers marched a fresh-fucked Maya down the halls to her own cell. At the very least, the very dishonorable Sergeant McCluskey kept his word. As an added bonus, his boot was polite enough to pull out before blowing his load all over the walls of the underpass. To add insult to injury, everything she owned in her duffel bag was now sitting in an evidence locker.

The only thing between Maya and the cold concrete floors of her cell was a stained mattress pad as she lay there still handcuffed, dead to the world and with her back to the cell door. She was deep in her own mind, holding her knees to her chest and trying to keep from snapping between broken sobs. It only took two weeks back on the streets, and she was already worse off than before moving into the Block. A small part of her wished the bacon-greasy motherfuckers had just tossed her in a gen-pop cell anyway. Let the animals tear her to pieces, she didn't care anymore. At least she could get off before getting offed, and maybe she would finally be free from the fucking nightmare of Night City...

"Hey, gash!", a strong female voice yelled through the bars of the cell door. Maya paid the voice no heed, just wanting to be left alone. The woman didn't take the hint, pulling her nightstick loose and crashing it three times against the bars as she raised her voice, "HEY!!! I'm talking to you!"

"The fuck do you want?!", Maya spat as she turned and looked. The intake officer was a beast of a woman, clear-cut and defined muscles running up and down her body. Her face was strong and sharp, her eyes menacing. Maya stood up and took a step forward, "What, you talk to McCluskey and now you want a turn?"

The women's eyes softened as she leaned in, hushing her voice as she put the stick back in her belt, "...McCluskey's a piece of shit... everyone in the precinct knows that..."

Maya shrugged her shoulders, skeptical of the sudden change in attitude, "Wasn't him this time anyway... his pup took me for a ride."

The woman's eyes narrowed as she looked closely and scoffed, "Bet it was the sarge that gave you the shiner, though..."

The fuck is her angle?!, Maya thought as she nodded, dipping her head to let the hair cover her bruised cheek. Something in the woman's face spoke volumes. She knew Maya's pain... and from the way her face twisted, it was a on a personal level. She sighed, looking down for a moment before pulling an unopened bottle of RealWater from one of her oversized cargo pockets. She held it through the bars as she ushered Maya forward, "You got your phone call, too."

Maya carefully grabbed the bottle, cracking it open and up-ending it down her throat while the woman grabbed a mounted panel from the wall, swiveling it around as she explained, "Jack in here, it'll pull up your rolodex and you can pick fro—"

"Not my first rodeo, lady...", Maya brushed her off as she jacked into the terminal. The woman laughed at the little shit behind bars giving her what-for as she cautioned, "I saw your sheet... for your sake, I hope it's the last..."

Maya ignored the remark as she considered her options... she didn't really have any. In less than a month, she had burned every bridge and driven everyone away. She was stuck here until the fuzz decided she was better off in a communal cell... and that only spelled a certain and gruesome death.

She swallowed hard... her pride going along with it... jaw clenched and eyes narrowed as she settled on her only possible choice. She tapped the screen twice, confirming the contact and sending the call. She waited patiently, silently praying for an answer on the other end. It was her only shot... and not one she really even deserved.

After several rings, a gruff and familiar Chicano voice answered, "Ya got brass balls, kid... small as you are, don't know where you keep 'em, though..."

Maya wasn't in a joking mood, and she looked down at the floor, "I-I'm sorry... Hector... for everything I said."

"...mierda...", Hector groaned from the other end, "How bad is it?"

She looked up, tears forming in her eyes as she answered, "I uh... it's a long story... got pinched at the Underpass by two pigs. Had their way with me and then tossed me in a cell."

There was a long pause before Hector spoke again, "Carajo... the Underpass... you in the Glen precinct?"

"Yeah...", Maya answered, entirely and utterly defeated, "Since I didn't fight it, t-they gave me my own cell, b-but for how long, I..."

Her voice cracked, the walls of her façade crumbling, "Hector, I-I'm scared... I-I don't want to—"

"Sit tight, mija... I'm on my way...", Hector assured her with a deep sigh, "And don't apologize... ain't nothing you said wasn't true... I'm sorry, for all of it. See ya soon."

The call dropped, and Maya's personal link retracted back into the palm of her hand as she fell to her knees and leaned her head against the wall. The tears streamed down her face as she fought to keep quiet, once again wrapping her arms around herself as she felt everything in that moment... fear, anger, grief, hope... she just had to hang on a little bit longer.

--

[One hour later...]

The overhead fluorescent lights flickered as if they were having a seizure, the entire wash of strobing pale off-white entirely unpleasant to the eyes as Maya hobbled down the corridor, her hands cuffed with a chain running down to shackles around her ankles. The muscular intake officer was never more than a pace behind her. Maya could have kissed the older woman for insisting on being her escort... and for giving her a grossly oversized zip-up sweater to provide some dignity and protection from the sea of eyes following the junkie fuckmeat as they marched toward one of several interrogation rooms.

By now, Maya had exhausted herself altogether, her head pounding from the constant tears and body aching from the comedown of her ruined high... and the rookie officer's abuse. She was barely able to stand up straight, her legs trembling with every small step as her own body weight seemed to pull her down toward the floor. She was spent, and all she wanted was to shower, sleep, and never wake up again.

They passed a series of closed doors, each marked with a number, and she felt the pull of a heavy hand on her shoulder as the intake officer barked, "Stop... here."

As ordered, Maya stopped and turned, staring down the dented and hollow metal door as the office stepped in front, waving her hand over the access pad. A few moments passed before an affirmative ding sounded, and the door slid open. Whatever Maya expected to see waiting for her on the other side, she was pleasantly surprised to find Hector standing by the far wall, and she cried out for him, "Oh thank God!"

She tried to rush forward, forgetting that she was chained and shackled, and she nearly fell flat on her face as Hector caught her halfway, his massive arms lifting her with ease as the chains rattled and echoed in the small room. He pulled her into his embrace, wrapping around her small frame and holding her tight. Her entire body was shaking, her breathing uneven and shallow.

After several seconds, he noticed the shackles, looking at the intake officer with disgust, "Eh! She's not a fucking animal... is this really necessary?!"

The officer's jaw clenched as she silently weighed the pros and cons. On one hand, how much damage could someone as small as Maya actually inflict if left to her own devices? On the other hand, the NCPD had policies and procedures for a reason... even if nobody else ever followed them. Maya took a chance, pulling away from Hector as she turned and looked at the officer. Her eyes softened as she held her hands out and begged, "Please... he's family..."

Her eyes cut the floor as her shoulders sagged, the realization taking hold, "...h-he's all I have left..."

The officer felt something in the corner of her eye, looking away quickly as she composed herself. She had seen thousands of sob stories come and go over the years, and never once had she cracked. Yet something about this girl struck a chord deep down. She narrowed her eyes, exhaling sharply through her nose before reaching for a ring of keys clipped to her belt. She took a single bounding step into the room as she looked down and commanded Maya, "Ass in the chair."

The words sent a shiver up Maya's spine, but she obeyed, planting herself down in the cold metal seat. The officer leaned forward, grabbing the chains firmly as she unlocked the cuffs around Maya's wrists. They locked eyes for only a moment as she cautioned, "Everything in this room is on live feed... do not give me a reason..."

The cuffs fell into Maya's lap as she massaged her wrists and raised her feet up, not daring to expect the officer to lean down further. The older woman stifled a smirk, the corners of her mouth curling up as she unlocked the shackles around Maya's ankles and pulled the chains away. She stepped back, her eyes cutting to Hector, "Keep her in line... I'll be just outside, knock when you're done."

The woman disappeared behind the door sliding shut, leaving Hector and Maya alone in the room. Hector spat and grumbled something under his breath that Maya couldn't quite make out, but it wasn't likely he had any kind words for pigs. She tried not to smile, letting the gravity of her circumstances set the mood. The older man sighed deep as he looked down at Maya before taking his seat across from her. He leaned forward, placing both of his heavy and chromed hands on the table as he considered his words. After an awkwardly long silence, he leaned forward to catch her line of sight as he mused, "For what it's worth, you look better than the last time I saw ya, mija..."

Maya choked on a laugh, catching Hector smiling with that damned twinkle in his eye she always admired as a kid. Before all of it went to hell, any time there was a hint of trouble, Hector was always the one to help her out of it. He was always around, which had always left the nagging question in the back of her mind as to exactly what the fuck happened... but what mattered was that he was here now.

She remembered something, raising her hand up as she looked at her fingers... at her nails. She seemed confused at how clean they were, prompting Hector to lean in again, "Been a long time since paint stained them puppies, eh?"

Maya smiled sheepishly, recalling a time Hector helped clean her up after a day on the town. She had skipped school to throw up tags and bombs on a few 'Saka-owned buildings with her friends. While she shared her father's fiery rebellious streak, she was always the more militant and bullheaded one by far, and entirely happy to throw her message in people's faces. By the time she showed up at their apartment building, Hector caught her trying to walk in the front of the building with her hands and shirt covered in dried paint.

He laughed as he remembered what it took to clean her up as she joked, "Man, we were lucky he never found out..."

"Oh, he knew...", Hector confessed, "...he also knew there was too much of himself in ya to keep ya from doing it again."

Maya looked down, a genuine and soft smile creeping in as she reminisced while Hector reminded her that her old man wasn't always a squeaky clean pillar of hope and change... he was once a young and dumb wannabe gangoon like all the other gonk boys growing up in Heywood, only he got smart early. He made his choice at a young age that he wanted more out of life than becoming another statistic, another niche in the wall at the Columbarium... but when all was said and done, he didn't even get that.

Maya's brow furrowed as she looked at Hector, remembering the wailing words of the 'psycho in her 'block as she asked, "Why didn't you ever go back for his body?"

Hector's face lost all emotion, and numb grief worked its way in as he looked down, "We tried, kid... but there wasn't—"

"It didn't have to be everything...", Maya interjected, "Just enough to fill a niche next to his wife..."

"No, Maya... you don't understand...", Hector pressed his case to her, "...there were hundreds of dead bodies when it was all said and done. Pieces of bodies... we checked every single one with the pigs and meat wagons... there was no sign of your father left behind. 's like someone scooped 'im up before we could get there."

It didn't make any sense, and Maya shook her head to try and reason through it. She always knew her father was a target ever since he started speaking out and organizing the rallies and protests, but what purpose would Arasaka have for a mutilated corpse... unless they were planning to string up his body outside their City Center headquarters as a sign. One would think she would have seen that all over the news or screamsheets. Still, the seed had been planted, and she wanted an answer. Maybe not from Hector... but from someone.

As the silence crept in again between them, Hector saw Maya's eyes batting back and forth, her hands fidgeting. Even under the large sweater, the twitching and trembling in her body was apparent, and he hated himself as he asked, "Mija... what happened to you...?"

Her demeanor shifted, her eyes cutting back to the older man as she snapped back, "Thought you got the answer for that at Rafael's..."

He scoffed and crossed his arms as he leaned back in the chair. He wasn't satisfied, and Maya knew it. She breathed in deep and exhaled all of her angst, "It wasn't easy for us, ya know... even being shuffled around by all the crew was better than having nowhere to go at all."

Hector knew where this was going, and his face hardened as he bit his tongue to let Maya have her moment... again, "Even when Dad was still alive, it was my job to look after Tony... t-that didn't just stop because he d-died..."

"Maya...", Hector interrupted, "...none of us wanted what happened. I know you know that."

Her jaw clenched, but she nodded as he continued, "We did what we could in the time we had... but 'Saka was watchin' you kids like hawks! That's why we kept having to move you around... until they caught up and gave us a choice."

Maya looked up, her eyes widening as her mouth hung open. There were tears... big angry tears... forming in Hector's eyes as his hands curled into fists, his voice faltering, "H-Half of your old man's crew either died or disappeared trying to protect you... and Tony. We never wanted to give you up, but those fucking bastards were ruthless. It was either leave you to the streets, or they killed us all and tracked you down anyway. Being Emiliano's kids, w-we... we figured your chances were b-better out there than... w-we were scared."

Her face twisted as she watched this strong bull of a man breaking down in front of her, fighting to hold it together for the both of them as she tried to comfort him, "H-Hector I—"

"I'm sorry, Maya!", he burst into tears, leaning forward with his head in his hands as he tried to force the words, "I should have been there for you! I should h-have p-protected you!"

In the blink of an eye, Maya was out of her chair and across the table as she wrapped herself around the older man, gently rubbing his back as he poured his heart out, "I've prayed every day, hoping both of them would forgive me, and I haven't slept soundly once, knowing you were out there and all alone... believe me, Maya, if there was anythi—"

"You're here now...", Maya cut him off as she sniffed up hard, "Even after I threw everything in your face... H-Hector I... I need help."

He turned to Maya, bringing her into his chest and closing his arms around as she confessed, "I can't do it alone... I-I don't w-want to h-hurt anymore."

She clutched at the fabric of his shirt, burying her face in his chest. Hector closed his eyes and rocked back and forth slowly in silence, rubbing Maya's shoulders as she wept into his large chest. They stayed like this for several minutes, trying to make up for lost time until the hollow crash of the door sliding open shook them back to the present. The intake officer stepped inside the room, keeping one foot on the door's track as she tossed the duffel bag in and said curtly, "You're free to go... McCluskey and his rookie are upstairs, and there'll be hell to pay once they find out."

Hector's face twisted as he barked, "What the fuck does Mc-Cuck have to do wi—"

Maya tried to dissuade Hector, just wanting to get out while they had a chance. In that moment, he connected the dots between the bruises on her face and her shaky legs, and a fire burned inside of him as he muttered under his breath, "I'll kill those motherfuckers, myself..."

"Yeah, get in line...", the officer mused with a scoff and a sarcastic tone. She waved her hand over the pad, ensuring the door was locked open before she stepped away and disappeared down the hall. Maya bent down with a groan, trying her best to stay steady as she grabbed the bag from the floor and slung it over her shoulder. Despite trying to keep up appearances, Hector could tell she was a half-step away from toppling over, and he braced her up against his side as they walked out of the room together, not entirely sure what to expect on the other side.

They counted their blessings that the dozen or more drones sitting in the sea of cubicles paid them no heed, and they turned to leave, arm in arm and together. Maya wasn't sure what came next, but for the moment, she took comfort in the embrace of an old friend. There were questions to be answered, but now wasn't hardly the time. She chose instead to focus on the fact that, for tonight at least, she had a place to lay her head that wasn't the underpass, and she smiled to herself as she pulled a little closer to Hector, his arm closing around her while they exited the precinct to the street as the sun set over Heywood.

--