Work Text:
Geoff wasn’t sure what he did to deserve this. It wasn’t like he was a bad guy. I mean, he’d stolen some shit and killed some people but it was all for a good cause, right? All the guys he’d killed were dicks anyway and they had killed way more people than him and his crew. So really, Geoff should be honoured as a hero and as a bringer of justice. His crew should be appreciated for the hard work they had done to keep the streets of Los Santos safe.
They died for this for fucks sake.
Geoff held back a sob. He didn’t know how it had gone so bad. Their plan was solid and they followed it to the letter. Gavin was in the truck monitoring surveillance and comms and Michael was sniping from the rooftops; Jeremy and Ryan were on the inside taking the cash and planting the bomb that would eliminate all of the evidence Blake’s crew had gathered regarding the Fakes and their activities; Jack was in the air providing overwatch and Geoff was ground support. They were supposed to be in and out in two minutes but within 30 seconds of them pulling up to the building, the place was swarming with Blake’s crew.
They should’ve anticipated backup but what can you expect? He wasn’t a psychic. He couldn’t possibly know everything that was going to happen. If he did, his crew wouldn’t be dead and he wouldn’t be locked in the Los Santos PD holding cell waiting for his lawyer to come pay off the cops. If he did, he wouldn’t have 5 bodies to find and 5 funerals to plan for.
He scoffed bitterly at that. Funerals? His teammates - friends, he corrected - deserved more than a handful of low-life criminals mourning their deaths. Underneath their criminal facades they were all good people. Well, not really ‘good’ per say. They’d all done horrible things and they were still assholes. But they were his assholes and he’d cared about them more than his pride was willing to let him admit out loud.
Geoff let out a deep sigh and wiped the stray tear from his face. He needed to pull himself together. It wouldn’t do him any good if the cops witnessed his vulnerability. That would just ruin his reputation. Not that that really mattered anymore but at least it gave him something to hold onto.
He leaned forward to check the clock on the wall outside the cell through the tiny barred window. 2:27, it read. 33 minutes since it all went to shit. It was amazing how three weeks of planning can go to waste so quickly.
Geoff looked at his dirt and gunshot residue coated hands and wished that his lawyer would hurry the fuck up. He wanted to get back out there to search for his crew. They didn’t deserve to be left in the streets or manhandled by asshole cops. They didn’t deserve to have their deaths written off as “no big loss” by some stupid coroner. They were people and they deserve to be remembered. The story of the shootout would probably get news coverage for a day before everyone forgot about it. His friend’s memories would be squandered by the stereotype that came with being a member of a criminal organization. Everyone would say “it was only a matter of time” or “better them than an innocent bystander.” But all of these people are just hypocrites. When some dude shoots up a high school his "lost potential" is mourned and the news paints him as someone who could've been saved. When a gang member is killed in a shootout, they are written off as a lost cause and a criminal. No one would talk about how they were robbed of a normal life at a young age, how they had to grow up faster than they should have, and how they had to fight to survive in the world they were thrown into. The public would never consider that maybe crime was the only thing that had ever accepted them for who they were.
It wasn’t fair.
Geoff wanted - no, needed - to find his friends so he could treat them with a little respect in death. If only his fucking lawyer wasn’t off somewhere sucking his own dick instead of doing his job.
What could the dickhead possibly be doing at - he leaned forward again - 2:29 on a Thursday afternoon? What could be more important than Geoff?
Well, actually a lot of shit but that's not the point.
The sound of a metal door shutting down the hall resounded through the cells and Geoff stood from the bench.
“Fucking finally,” he mumbled to himself. The sound of the door lock sliding out of place was music to his ears and Geoff moved forward to greet the figure waiting on the other side.
FAKES
Ryan was glad he wore the mask. Not only did it help him keep his true identity anonymous but it also helped him hide his emotions from prying eyes. It was a veil, of sorts, that maintained his stoic facade while he was quietly falling apart.
Four of his friends were most likely dead; the other, arrested.
From what Ryan could tell, he was the only one to make it out. He didn’t leave the fight unscathed but he was upright and mobile which was more than he could say for the rest of his crew.
Earlier
Him and Jeremy were caught closer to the bomb than they planned and the explosion had thrown Ryan into the side of a dumpster. He was knocked unconscious but the metal bin provided him with a shield that protected him both from bullets and from the searching gaze of the police who had arrived at some point without Ryan noticing.
When he woke, a peek at his watch told him that not even a minute had passed since the bomb went off. He could feel blood leaking down the nape of his neck from a cut on the back of his head and he grimaced as he gently prodded the wound, checking its severity. Deciding that he'd live, he spared a quick glance past the dumpster. Ryan could see the police gathered at the far right side of the parking lot and he watched as Geoff was slammed into the side of a cruiser, handcuffs already slapped onto his wrists.
Ryan tested his comms quickly and confirmed what he’d suspected when he couldn’t hear his teammates - comms were still out. Not that that mattered if his friends were dead. Trying not to dwell on that thought, he ripped the busted earpiece out and tossed it into the dumpster he was still crouched beside. Cell phones, of course, were forbidden on heists; Geoff had always said that there were too many ways they could fuck something up. Unfortunately, that meant he had to find another way to contact his teammates.
If Geoff was being arrested he needed to follow the cruiser to break him out. Geoff might be the only Fake left and Ryan wasn’t prepared to lose him too. Steeling himself for the sprint across the open parking lot, he conducted a more thorough scan around the dumpster to ensure he was alone.
What he saw had made his blood go cold.
Jack’s helicopter was down in the street to his left and it was being ravaged by flames. If their pilot were still in there, there was nothing that Ryan could do for her. All Ryan could hope was that she had managed to jump and pull her chute before the chopper hit the ground.
The Vagabond swallowed thickly and turned away from the wreckage.
He needed to focus on Geoff. He could still save Geoff.
Finishing his scan of the lot confirmed that the rest of the opposing gang members had scattered and the police were focused on arresting those they had managed to grab. Ryan couldn’t see any of his missing teammates among those being arrested but he hadn’t decided if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Geoff allowing himself to be arrested didn’t bode well for the fate of the others but Ryan chose to not think about it.
Seeing an opening in an alleyway across the lot, Ryan decided he had better move before someone came looking for stragglers. It was a miracle he hadn’t been found yet but the LSPD always were shit at their jobs. Checking his watch quickly, he noted the time: 1:58.
Everything had got real fucked, real quick.
He ran in a crouch as quickly as he could, ignoring the pounding in his head and praying the police stayed distracted until he was in cover. Lady luck finally granted him refuge and he made it to the darkness of the alley without being seen.
Before continuing his mission to save Geoff, Ryan took one last look at the parking lot behind him where fires still burned and debris lay scattered. He took a deep shuddering breath before turning on his heel and tearing down the alley. The only thing he could think as he left the carnage behind was fuck.
FAKES
There was a smell of smoke and burning fuel that greeted the redhead when she regained consciousness. It was a painful awakening but Jack was just glad to be alive. Opening a parachute less than 70ft from the ground after bailing from a burning helicopter left a lot of room for error and it was a miracle that she was still breathing.
She took a moment to take in her surroundings before trying to sit up. The sounds of gunfire had seized but she could hear the distinct sounds of the police shouting orders. It all sounded very far away but she couldn’t tell if they were as far away as they sounded or if the exploding helicopter had fucked with her hearing somehow. She pulled her busted headset off and strained her hearing.
Definitely hearing loss, she thought. Either way, knowing the cops were in her immediate proximity was enough motivation for her to start moving.
Flaming debris littered the ground around her as she eased herself up and onto her knees. Numerous aches made themselves known and her ankle throbbed in time with her pounding heart but nothing felt broken so she opted to ignore the pains in favour of searching for a vehicle to steal. Getting to her feet took longer than she wanted it to and was accompanied with more than one gasp of pain.
Jack wasn’t sure what had happened to her team but she knew that Ryan and Jeremy had been caught up in the explosion their bomb had caused. As much as she didn’t want to think about it, the Battle Buddies were most likely dead.
She had had enough time to see Ryan’s body thrown behind a dumpster with as much grace as a ragdoll before she heard the tell-tale sound of an RPG locking on to her helicopter. She bailed just in time and was falling through the air when her vehicle exploded above her.
Jeremy had still been inside the building when the bomb went off and if Ryan had been killed by the bomb outside the building, she didn’t want to imagine the state Jeremy’s body would be in when they managed to find it. If it wasn’t blown to pieces, she thought darkly.
Spotting a parked Washington across the street, Jack pulled herself together and limped toward it.
It wasn’t time to mourn.
She quickly checked the time. 2:01. If she had any teammates left out there she needed to find them. They’d need her help.
Before passing the building she had landed behind, she peered around the corner to take in the parking lot where the fight had gone down.
It was a disaster zone. Blake’s gang really did not want them stealing their shit. Normally their heists went mostly to plan but this one went off the rails quicker than they usually do.
She could see the gathering of cops on the far side of the lot and a familiar brown mop of hair sitting in the back seat of one of the cruisers. Her heart fluttered and she breathed a sigh of relief. Geoff.
One down, four to locate.
That was when she saw the dumpster that Ryan had landed behind. Bracing herself for the worst, she craned her neck to see over the pile of garbage that had accumulated beside the bin. Expecting to see Ryan’s broken body, she was surprised to see that the space behind the dumpster was empty.
Ryan’s alive, she thought.
Now that she knew she wasn’t the only one of her friends to survive, she hobbled across to the Washington with renewed vigour. She needed to get another chopper, break Geoff out of the police station, and find Ryan.
She smiled weakly to herself. She didn’t know the fate of her other friends but now she had a mission to complete and God help anyone who stood in her way.
FAKES
He didn’t know who he pissed off to get into the position he was in but God damn they were mad. He knew they should’ve set the timer for more than twenty seconds but Geoff had insisted they’d have enough time to get out. Yeah, right. That had turned out so well.
The explosion hadn’t knocked him out but it tried it’s best. It’s a good thing Dooleys had such hard heads otherwise he’d probably be dead.
He was still trapped in the building where the bomb had gone off but by some miracle, he hadn’t been blown to bits. Instead, he was currently sheltered behind an overturned desk, holding his left arm tightly to his chest. Apparently, being slammed into a solid wooden desk by an explosion hurts; it hurts like a motherfucker. Who’d’ve thought?
The fight outside was dying down but Jeremy knew that his team needed him. The door to the parking lot was blocked by fire but even if the path was clear, he knew he couldn’t go back out there. He was out of ammo and wouldn’t stand a chance in a fist fight.
His only option was to go get backup.
Suddenly, he could hear the sound of another explosion rip through the parking lot and felt the ground shake beneath his knees.
He needed to move.
Using the desk as leverage, he dragged himself up using his good arm. He let out a gasp at the pain the movement caused; he could feel the bones under his skin scraping together as they shifted, forcing a swell of nausea to rise up.
Not now Jeremy. Get your shit together.
Spotting a side door, he started carefully making his way through the fire.
If he could get to a payphone, he could call Trevor to get the others out here. Even if he was useless himself, he knew that by calling backup he was giving his friends a chance.
Bursting through the door with a cough and a plume of smoke, Jeremy found himself in a familiar alleyway.
This had been where Michael had started his fight with a scream and a hail of bullets. That fight ended on the roof of the building in front of him with another scream and another hail of bullets.
Jeremy paused as he remembered Michael being gunned down in front of them. He could still hear the yells of his teammates as they called for Michael, praying that he had somehow survived. But no response had come and shouts of concern turned into shouts of anguish.
Shaking away the memory, Jeremy continued his effort to find a payphone.
Michael may be beyond help but that didn’t mean his other teammates weren’t still out there.
Breaking from the cover of the alley, he spotted a payphone outside of a pawn shop. He rummaged through his pockets to find the change he knew was in there for this exact purpose. Geoff had ordered them to start carrying around change for payphones after Ryan had been separated from the group the last time their comms went out. Without their cellphones on them, no one was able to find out where he was and he was forced to steal a car to get back to HQ. He would’ve been okay with that had his little night time search for a car not turned into a kidnapping. When he didn’t show up at HQ after three hours, the rest of the Fakes figured something had gone wrong and they scoured the city in search of him. They finally found him 2 days later, beat to hell and barely breathing. After that, if Geoff discovered you weren’t carrying payphone money you were kicked off the crew for that heist and someone from B-Team was brought in.
As annoying as it could be, Jeremy was thankful as hell that Geoff was such a pain in the ass about it. Dropping the change into the machine, he ripped his useless earpiece out, and dialed a number he had long since memorized.
Every ring tightened the vice that had clamped itself around his heart and he checked the time impatiently: 1:59. Fuck, only 10 minutes since comms went out.
When he finally heard Trevor’s voice he felt like he was going to pass out from relief.
“Hello?”
“Trevor, fuck, the job went to shit and everyone is scattered. We need help.”
“Jesus, Jeremy slow down. What do you need?”
“B-Team and a chopper. I don’t know where anyone else is. I think Michael and Gavin are dead. Michael was gunned down in front of us and Gavin… I don’t even know what happened to him.” His voice broke slightly and Trevor would have missed it if he didn’t know Jeremy as well as he did.
“We’re on our way.” Jeremy could hear shuffling and voices in the background.
“Thank fuck.” His hand was shaking as he held the receiver. There was a pause on the other end as if Trevor was listening to another conversation.
“Jeremy.”
“Yeah.”
“Geoff was arrested. He’s being taken to Rockford.” So Geoff was alive.
“Thank Christ.”
“We’ll pick you up first then we’ll go break him out. Meet us at Binco’s.” He hung up before Jeremy could even force out a thank you.
He let out a deep breath and attempted to calm himself down. Help was coming.
FAKES
The plan had all gone to shit.
There's not really a more eloquent way to convey the absolute clusterfuck he was leaving behind. Not only did they fail to get the money, but now they were all separated with no way to contact each other.
Geoff had never liked cellphones which meant they weren’t allowed on heists. Yeah, great fucking planning there Geoff. Look where that got them.
He stamped down the anger he could feel creeping up; it wasn’t Geoff’s fault and he knew that. He just needed something to project his anger toward and at the moment, Geoff was at the forefront of his mind.
Comms were still out and the only person that could fix them was… He couldn’t even bring himself to think it. He couldn’t actually be gone right?
His boy.
Michael let out a quiet sob before sobering and refocusing on the road stretched out in front of him. He needed to focus on not killing himself in a car accident not on the fact that Gavin was most likely dead.
Realizing he still had his useless earpiece in, he angrily ripped it out and tossed it out the window.
He wasn’t sure about the other members of his team but before everything went tits up, they were all still on their feet and returning fire. Gavin had gone dark just after Blake’s backup arrived, with a gunshot and a squawk of pain. Comms had gone out right after that and without their resident computer nerd to fix things, they were fucked.
Michael grimaced as he hit a particularly deep pothole. He was tearing through downtown Los Santos in his Adder on his way to HQ, three bullets still lodged in his vest. All he could do at that point was pray that his teammates were heading in the same direction he was.
He had lost the cops following him about 10 minutes ago but he was taking a round-about way back to HQ just to make sure nobody was still on his tail.
Earlier
When he’d woken up on the roof, he was met with the dull sound of voices and a faint smell of smoke. His chest was on fire and he gingerly reached underneath his vest to make sure none of the bullets had punctured the kevlar. Relief washed over him as his hand came back dry, once again thankful that Jack was always so insistent that they wear armour.
Bracing himself to sit up, he put one hand on the short ledge at the edge of the roof and eased himself into a seated position. He had to keep himself from groaning as a sharp pain shot through his chest. A sweat broke out on his forehead and he allowed himself to mumble, “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Now sitting, he could look down over the parking lot. There were no signs of his team or any rival gang members anywhere but the police were swarming the entrance.
Jesus, how long was I out? He checked his watch and was shocked to see that it was 2:17. Fuck.
Looking out past the cops and down an alley across the street, Michael could make out the distinct shape of his car still tucked under its cover. The only issue was that he had to wait for the fucking cops to leave before he could get over there without being seen.
He scanned the roof and the streets below to see if there were any other options available to him and his eyes were drawn toward an old ladder on the far side of the building. If it was strong enough to hold his weight, it would put him behind the building and out of the cops’ sightline. After that, he would have to attempt a risky trip across the street but if he moved casually enough, he might avoid their attention. Plan set, he crawled away from the edge so he could stand without being exposed to the cops below.
To be safe, he waited until he was at the ladder before standing at full height. He tested the top rung of the ladder and, deeming it safe, took a careful step down. The rusted metal bent under his full weight but he determined that it would hold and continued down until he hit solid ground.
Once he was in his Adder he was going to go find the Terrorbyte to see if Gavin was still there. Michael decided that if he found Gavin alive and safe, he would beat the stupid asshole hard enough that he’d wish he were dead. Gavin wasn’t allowed to scare him like this.
It was just Michael’s luck that when he was about halfway across the street, a shout came from behind him. Without so much as a glance back, he sprinted into the alley. His ribs were protesting loudly but he ignored the grinding and shifting and elected to revamp his exit strategy instead. He ripped the cover off the car and jumped into the driver’s seat.
Not wanting to risk leading the police to his boy, dead or alive, he tore off in the opposite direction, heading toward HQ instead.
I’m sorry Gav. I’ll be back for you.
FAKES
Gavin was most definitely not dead and didn’t that just piss him right off.
When he woke up in the alley his body was screaming at him in protest. There was a heavy pressure on his chest where it seemed as though an elephant had taken up residence. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration but the man was bloody huge. Gavin was struggling to breath under the weight and he feebly tried to push the body off of him. Unfortunately, his right arm was pinned under the body and his left had a bullet in it so his attempt was poor at best. His only hope now was to somehow wiggle his way out but that plan was soon abandoned when he nearly passed out again.
“Son of a bitch,” he gasped out. “You’re a heavy mof aren’t ya?”
He could feel his broken ribs grinding together and that was enough to convince him that staying put was probably for the best. Yeah, he could do that. His friends would find him there soon anyway. The heist should be done and they should be realizing that he was missing. They’d probably come to yell at him about comms going down again.
Gavin was pretty sure this heist had set some sort of record. They hadn’t even made it in the door yet and they were already getting their asses kicked.
Earlier
He had been sitting in the Terrorbyte monitoring his friends when the door behind him was thrown open. He spun his chair around in surprise but didn’t even have time to look at his adversary’s face before there was a bullet in his shoulder and he was being dragged from the safety of his chair. His headset was ripped from his head in the process but he could still hear his friends calling his name in response to the sound of the gunshot. Their voices were effectively silenced when his attacker shut off the comms and pulled him into the empty alleyway.
This was when he knew he was well and truly munged. He was alone and there was no way for his friends to save him before this bloke did him in.
A fat, meaty fist connected with his face and it took every ounce of strength he had to not fall over. He realized then that if he was going to survive to see the end of the heist he needed to do everything he could to fight back.
The next time the man lashed out at him he was ready and was able to dodge the fist before returning the favour with his own. He could feel his knuckles bruise against the bloke’s face and took a second to shake his hand in pain. This lapse of focus proved to be a mistake when the giant tackled him. Douche Pot now sat on his thighs, straddling him and he continued to throw punches at Gavin’s chest and face. The only thing Gavin could do was shield his face as best he could with his one working arm. There wasn’t much the Lad could do to protect his chest and he could feel the bruises blossoming beneath his button up.
Gavin thrashed his legs wildly in the hopes that he could buck Douche Pot off but his efforts were futile. The man was just too heavy. The punches were getting harder and he needed another way out. His eyes scanned his surroundings frantically, hoping to find something he could use as a weapon. Luck was on his side when he noticed that the gun he had been shot with was still in Douche Pot’s waistband.
Bloody moron. Reacting quickly, Gavin grabbed the weapon and before his attacker realized it, there was a bullet tearing through the giant’s heart. The man was dead before he could draw his next breath and Gavin very quickly noticed the flaw in his escape plan. The man fell forward, now dead weight, and landed directly on Gavin’s ribcage. A choked scream escaped the Lad before he passed out, his cracked ribs finally breaking under the weight.
Now
Now here he lay. Still being crushed by the dead man’s mass, unable to move and helplessly waiting for his friends to arrive.
He was able to see his watch face from where his arm had fallen limply beside him and could barely make out the time. 2:38.
Those assholes better hurry up before this mof ends up taking me with him.
FAKES
Geoff was expecting his lawyer to saunter through the door so when a masked Vagabond stumbled in instead, he couldn’t stop the shocked expression from spreading across his face.
“Ryan?” The Vagabond looked toward him, breathing heavily like he'd been running. Before Ryan could speak, Geoff launched himself at the man and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. “Jesus Christ I thought you were dead.”
“Not yet but we will be if we don’t get the fuck out of here," Ryan intoned, while returning his boss' hug with equal warmth.
Geoff released him and took a second to pull himself together. “Right.” He cleared his throat, the constricting feeling was ebbing away slightly. If Ryan made it out, maybe...? “The others?” He let the question hang in the air.
Ryan sighed and turned away from the door he had moved to peek out of. “I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone. Jack’s chopper was down and Jeremy was closer to the bomb than I was. I don’t,” he took a shuddering breath. “I don’t think anyone else made it.” Geoff sighed and nodded solemnly. “I didn’t see any sign of Michael or Gavin but we all saw Michael go down and we all heard Gavin, so God knows what happened to him.”
“I just thought if you… then maybe the others....” He trailed off, knowing Ryan could fill in the blanks.
“I know.” Clapping a hand on Geoff’s shoulder, he turned back to his post. “Everything looks clear. We need to get out and get to HQ. If anyone survived, that’s where they’d go.” They slipped out from behind the metal door and crept their way down the hallway. Following behind the Vagabond, Geoff noticed a matting of hair and blood on the back of his head. He elected to ignore it for now but he noted the observation for later when the man inevitably tried to hide the injury.
“You didn’t happen to bring a car did you?”
Ryan chuckled quietly as they turned a corner, passing an unconscious officer. “Mine was killed by the bomb and yours was surrounded by cop cars so I couldn’t chance it.”
“Of fucking course. Guess we’ll just have to jack one and pray it isn’t a Simeon.”
They turned the final corner and were met with a set of stairs and a door that would take them into the main part of the station. Ryan silently peered through the crack he had made while Geoff focused on listening intently to the ambient noise that flowed from the bullpen. A voice came close to the door and the two men held their breaths. It stayed still for a moment, rose in volume, and became angry before moving away at a fast pace.
“Coast is clear. Let’s move,” Ryan whispered, already pushing the door open further. Geoff followed him silently as they entered the lion’s den.
Their salvation was the main entrance 30 feet to their right. The only issue was getting there. Geoff looked up to meet Ryan’s eyes. He was surprised to see that the mask was off and tucked safely in the Vagabond’s jacket. It took every ounce of his self-restraint to keep himself from pointing out that the face paint was every bit as noticeable as the mask. He refrained though because he knew this was a fact Ryan was aware of. Maybe it just made him feel better.
The 10 second walk across the bullpen felt like 10 minutes but miraculously, they made it through the front doors unnoticed.
Geoff held his tongue until they were well outside the station before releasing the breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. “That was a miracle. Do you have a horseshoe up your ass or something? God damn.”
Ryan chuckled and placed the mask back onto his face. “Huh, maybe today has taken a turn.”
Just as he finished speaking, the front door of the police station burst open and officers poured out, yelling Geoff's name.
“Fuck. Spoke too soon.” They broke into a run, aiming to get around the corner and behind the cover of a concrete wall before bullets started flying.
“You always gotta open your big fat mouth.” Tearing around the corner, they maintained their pace and frantically searched for a place to hide.
“You started it.”
Spotting an alley across the street, Geoff grabbed Ryan’s arm and steered him toward it. They could hear the shouts of the officers coming closer and soon bullets were flying around them. Steps from the relative safety of the alley, Geoff felt hot metal tear a divot into his flesh as a bullet grazed his side. He yelped in surprise and stumbled the last few steps into cover, only staying on his feet with the aid of Ryan throwing his arm around his waist.
They continued to run through the short alley when they noticed the officers had stopped shooting at them. They slowed and turned to face their adversaries and realized they were no longer the focus of the cop’s attention. Instead, they had turned their weapons on a helicopter that was hovering above the police station. A helicopter that, to the shock of Ryan and Geoff, was being piloted by a familiar redhead.
FAKES
Saving her boys from themselves was something that Jack was, unfortunately, well accustomed to. She didn’t know what it was about them but trouble seemed to follow them around. Actually, she knew exactly what it was about them that drew danger to them. They were dumbasses and assholes. Ass squared. Dumb assholes. However you wanted to put it, it’s not a great combination mixed with guns and violence and yet here they were. It was a miracle they’d made it this far, honestly.
As she sped through Los Santos in the direction of the airport, she reflected on all the times they had gotten fucked over. They’d been in some tight spots for sure but despite her best efforts, she couldn’t come up with anything that had gone as poorly as this heist had. She didn’t think she’d ever felt as hopeless as she did in that moment when she woke up and was sure everyone else was dead. She still didn’t know about the Lads but at least she knew Geoff and Ryan were alive. Hopefully Ryan was making his way back to HQ so they could meet up once she broke Geoff out.
Bracing herself to hit the ramp outside of the airport, she punched the gas and was soon crashing down on the other side of the fence. She would make quick work of stealing another chopper and… Her thought process halted when her eyes landed on what might have been the best thing she’d ever seen.
B-Team were exiting their Guardian and were running toward an Annihilator.
Pressing harder on the accelerator she parked beside the team’s abandoned SUV and met Trevor who had noticed her approaching.
“Jack! Are you okay? I heard everything went to shit. We were just heading to provide backup.” His voice was quieter than it should have been but Jack noted that her hearing had largely returned to normal.
“I’m fine. Geoff was arrested and Ryan is somewhere in the city. We need to go find them.”
“I’ve already talked to Jeremy…”
“Wait, Jeremy is alive?” Trevor nodded. “Holy shit.”
“He’s who called us in. While I was talking to him I heard that Geoff was arrested over the police radio. We were just on our way to pick up Jeremy at Binco’s so we could go break Geoff out.”
“That’s where I was headed too.”
“In that case,” he held the pilot’s door open for her, “I’ll let you do the honours.” Jack hopped into the pilot seat and fixed the headset over her ears. After checking to make sure that Trevor was seated in the back she took off.
With Trevor had come Lindsay, Matt, and Alfredo and she had never been happier to see them.
“Jack,” Lindsay spoke through the headset. “Michael?” Trevor had already briefed them on what Jeremy had said but she needed confirmation.
The pilot took a deep breath. “I don’t know. He was gunned down in front of us. I don’t think anyone could have survived that.” Lindsay took a shuddering breath and tears tracked down her cheeks. Alfredo gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder.
“We’ll find him. We’ll bring him home,” Jack reassured her friend. Lindsay nodded and tried to smile at their pilot, but it was a sad attempt that disappeared quickly.
It was a short trip to Binco’s and soon Jack was setting the chopper down in the street.
The team could see Jeremy check that the coast was clear before leaving his hiding spot beside the building. It was evident the man was injured from the way he held his arm tightly to his chest but no one said anything until they were back in the air.
“Jeremy, are you okay?” Jack questioned as soon as he put his headset on.
“I’m fine. Just a little banged up. Are you okay? I wasn’t sure if you were alive when I called Trevor for backup.”
“I’m okay. I bailed before my chopper hit the ground.”
“The others…?”
“I think Ryan’s alive but I don’t know about Gavin or Michael.” Jack spared a glance back at Lindsay and saw Jeremy reach a hand out in comfort. Lindsay took it gratefully and held on tight.
Hovering over Rockford Hills Police Station, the team could tell that something was going down. Police were swarming the street and two figures were running away, bobbing and weaving to avoid the gunfire.
“Geoff and Ryan,” Trevor stated, matter-of-factly. “We need to divert their attention before one of them gets shot.”
Alfredo clearly had been thinking the same thing, already reaching a hand into the bag of weapons B-Team had brought with them. “On it.”
A few well-placed shots later and the police were effectively distracted. It didn’t take long before Jack was able to land the helicopter in the streets and they were joined by their two missing friends.
“We’re taking fire, we need to move!” Geoff and Ryan scrambled into the chopper, Geoff claiming the last open seat and Ryan plopping heavily onto the floor.
The Annihilator only being a 6-seater meant that there were only 6 headsets but Matt handed his to Ryan so the four Fakes could reunite.
“Are you guys okay?” Jack asked as she lifted the chopper back into the air.
“Geoff was grazed but other than that we’re fine.”
“Oh that’s bullshit. Ryan has a head wound that might need stitches.” Shock and betrayal was evident in the man’s change of posture but he didn’t deny the claim.
“You’re such a snitch.”
“You’re such a snitch,” Geoff repeated in a mocking tone.
“What are you 12?”
“No, I’m 44 and your boss so I can fire your ass whenever I want.”
“You wouldn’t fire me. You don’t know anyone else that likes you.”
“Oh that’s rich coming from the guy who literally wears a mask so no one knows who he is.”
“It makes me look scary and scaring people is the only thing that fills me with joy.”
“You’re such a freak.”
“You’re such a freak,” Ryan mimicked in a voice that rivaled Geoff’s previous attempt at mockery.
“Look who’s the 12 year old now.”
“HA, so you admit you were being childish.”
“No I just...Shut the fuck up Ryan.”
“Both of you shut the fuck up,” Jack yelled over the argument. “God you’d never guess you guys were members of a highly respected criminal organization. You guys are such children. We’re heading back to HQ to get EVERYONE,” she said pointedly at her three team members behind her, “fixed up before we go looking for Michael and Gavin.” She braced herself for the protests that would surely arise and when they did, she quickly silenced them again. “You guys need to be able to function if we’re going on a manhunt. I can’t have anyone bleeding out or passing out before we find them. I need to be able to help them and if you’re all swooning at my feet because you went untreated I won’t be able to do that.” Mumbles were the only reaction she got as her friends reluctantly agreed. “Do I make myself clear?” A collective “yes ma’am” came from the back seat and Jack smiled. “We’ll make it quick. I want to get back out there just as much as you do.”
As HQ came into view, Jack allowed herself to take a deep breath in preparation for landing their stolen bird. Once inside, she would patch everyone up and then they would finally go find their boys.
FAKES
When Michael arrived back at HQ he wasn’t prepared for what greeted him. He had imagined that the rest of his crew would be there; had hoped desperately that they’d all survived, but his heart dropped when all that met him at the door was silence.
His boy wasn’t charging at him while making a myriad of bird noises and Jeremy wasn’t asking him if he wanted to play some Halo. He even would have gladly listened to Ryan going on and on about some new weapon that had found its way onto the street if it meant his friend was okay.
It was deafening. His team was never silent and that meant that they weren’t here. He dragged his feet into the apartment and tried to fight the feeling of loss that was creeping its way into his chest. Dropping heavily onto the couch, he refrained from pulling his knees into his chest. Not only would that hurt like a bitch but when his team walked through that door he didn’t want them to think he was a pussy.
When.
He couldn’t let himself think that they wouldn’t be returning. He had to keep believing that they left that parking lot under their own power and not in body bags. He wallowed in his thoughts for a few minutes before his pity party was interrupted by a commotion on the other side of the front door. Standing quickly, he gasped in pain at the jostling and waited to see who would greet him.
To his relief, the Gents and Jeremy crossed the threshold followed by B-Team. Conversations died as sounds of surprise were drawn from the mouths of his friends.
“Michael, thank Christ,” whispered Lindsay, rushing forward to envelope her husband in a tight embrace. He winced at the pressure it placed on his chest but hugged her tighter regardless.
“Holy shit.” Geoff looked close to tears. “We thought you were dead dude.”
“Ha. You dickheads can’t get rid of me that easily.” His attempt at humour fell flat. His wife pulled away from the hug and wiped the tears from her eyes. Michael prevented her from moving away from him by grabbing her hand and kissing her gently on the forehead. A quick glance around the faces of his friends told him all he needed to know but he asked anyway, “Gavin?”
No one met his eyes. He released a shuddered breath and nodded quickly.
“Once we get patched up we’re going to go look for him. We’ll bring him home.” Geoff placed a comforting hand on his shoulders and met his eyes. There was a look of anguish in his eyes so deep that it was almost palpable. Michael felt the sorrow in his chest deepen. He may have lost his boy but the kid had been like a son to Geoff.
It was then that Michael realized just how deeply Geoff cared for them all. This was the man who had pulled them from the streets and given them something to live and fight for. All they had was each other and they just lost one of their brothers.
“Let’s get everyone sorted out so we can go and get our boy.” Jack, always the practical one. “Michael, are you okay? And don’t give me that ‘I’m fine’ bullshit. I’ve heard enough of that today to last a lifetime.”
“I’m bruised and sore but the bullets hit my vest. I’ll be fine.”
“Oh would you look at that. At least someone,” she glared at Geoff, “listens to me when I tell them to wear armour.”
Geoff put his hands up in surrender and muttered, “Says the one who crashed a fucking helicopter. Fat lot of good body armour would’ve done if you didn’t have a chute.”
Jack’s glare became icy but she chose to ignore Geoff’s comment and turned back to Michael. “I'll still check you over but just sit down for now. Geoff you first. We need to get you stitched up before you bleed out.”
“I want to go out there. I’m ambulatory. I can look for him.”
“Michael you can’t go back out there alone. Who knows how many gang members are still hanging around.” Ryan was a hell of an assassin and he always had been good at killing Michael’s vibe.
“Come with me then. B-Team can too. None of us are bleeding out. I don’t want to leave Gavin out there any longer.”
A loud argument broke out between the Fakes that was only broken up by Geoff yelling, “HEY.” Satisfied that his crew had shut up he continued, “No one is going out there whether in groups or in pairs or fucking whatever. We stick together or we don’t go out at all. I can’t,” his voice caught in his throat. “I don’t want to be separated again. I have spent too much time today thinking you all were dead. So sit down, shut the fuck up, and let Jack do her job.” With that, he strode into the bathroom followed silently by Jack.
The rest of the crew stared at their retreating forms in awe at the vulnerability their leader just showed them. His tough guy facade rarely slipped and it was sobering to realize that Geoff had thought himself well and truly alone.
Apology hugs were given generously and seats were taken as they awaited their turn with their resident medic.
FAKES
“Alright ladies and gents. We need to move. Security cams show that the Terrorbyte is still parked where it was earlier. Our best bet is to start there and move outward. Hopefully Gavin isn’t far and we can wrap this up quickly. Blake’s men are still out there and even though we didn’t manage to steal any money, we fucked up their HQ pretty good and let the cops know where they’re hiding out. They’re going to be armed and pissed. Nobody is going in loud. We go by car only and in groups of 3. Everyone stays together and as hard as it will be, we follow all laws. The cops are looking for all of us right now and we can’t have them catching our scent before we even get there. If it’s a yellow that means you fucking slow down and stop at the light. Any cars that make it through before it changes will pull over and wait for everyone else. Do I make myself clear?” Various noises of agreement sounded throughout the room. Geoff looked pointedly at Michael before turning and striding to the elevator. The door opened with a ding and the group squeezed in.
His crew was diligently putting in their earpieces and checking to make sure they had their cellphones on them. Normally forbidden, Geoff decided that he was willing to make an exception in this case. This wasn’t a normal mission and if comms went out again and they didn’t have a back up, Geoff might lose his goddamn mind. “Michael and Lindsay? You’re with me; Trevor, Matt, and Alfredo go together; Jack, Ryan, and Jeremy are together. It is now,” he checks his watch, “4:07. Gavin has been out there by himself for more than 2 hours. If he’s alive he’s going to need medical attention. He would’ve made his way back here if he could.”
They reached the basement garage and his friends spilled out of the lift. As they made their way to their respective cars Geoff addressed his crew one more time. “If he’s out there, we’ll find him. He needs us now more than ever so keep your heads clear and focused. Stay safe out there and don’t do anything stupid. I can’t afford to replace you assholes.” The Fakes smiled in spite of the mission they were about to embark on and loaded up.
FAKES
If Gavin were to wager a guess he would’ve said that he spent about 70% of his time in the alley unconscious, 15% delirious from blood loss and lack of oxygen, and the other 15% relatively aware of his surroundings. It was pure luck then that when his crew came looking for him he was awake and knew what was going on.
He could hear vehicles approaching from the direction of the street but couldn’t crane his neck to see who the newcomers were. He held his breath, closed his eyes, and stilled any movement. If it was someone from Blake’s gang coming to collect Mister Ape, he was in deep shite. If they thought Gavin was dead, they might just leave him. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice call out his name that he relaxed and let a smile, or his attempt at a smile anyway, spread over his face.
“Gavin! Where are you boy?”
“Micool.” His voice was little above a whisper and was followed by a harsh cough but the noise was enough to alert his friends that he was there. Suddenly, Michael’s face was hovering above his own, a grin plastered on his face.
“Holy fuck Gav.”
“You mind?” Gavin looked to the man still laying on his chest and Michael waved over Ryan to give him a hand.
“This guy weighs a fucking ton. Leave it to you to piss off a sumo wrestler,” Ryan grunted as they dumped the body unceremoniously in a pile of garbage bags.
“Well it wasn’t really my intention to get minged up now was it.” Now it was Gavin’s turn and he was being dragged into an upright position that was accompanied by a groan. Michael positioned himself behind Gavin to give him something to lean against and the Lad was forever thankful that his friend could tell exactly what he needed. Now that he could see the rest of his team scattered throughout the alley he noted the relief in their faces and took in their appearance. “You guys look like shit.” He meant it too. They were all covered in various bruises, cuts, bandages, and casts, and every single one of them looked bloody exhausted.
“You don’t exactly look like Channing Tatum yourself.” Gavin met Geoff’s eyes and gave him a slight nod in an effort to assuage some of the guilt marring Geoff’s features. This only served to increase the pounding in his head but Geoff smiled in return so Gavin decided a little extra pain wasn’t so bad.
Jack kneeled in front of him and began taking stock of his injuries. “Alright Gav, what have we got?”
Reciting his list of injuries to Jack exhausted the Brit and he was soon fighting sleep, his head leaning on Michael’s shoulder. “Alright let’s get him loaded up. He’s stable for now but I’d rather wait and treat him back at HQ. We shouldn’t be out here still anyway. Think you can walk?” At Gavin’s short nod, Jack and Ryan moved closer to help him stand.
Their efforts were soon abandoned when Trevor’s voice sounded through comms, “You guys, we have a problem. Three Toros heading your way from the East.”
“Shit. We need to go.” They pulled Gavin to his feet faster than they planned to and had to ignore his cry of protest. Opting to carry him rather than take the time for him to shuffle to the car, Ryan lifted the man into his arms bridal style.
Gavin could sense the urgency in their movements and fought his instinct to tell Ryan that he was fully capable of walking. “What’s going on?”
“B-Team is on overwatch. Trevor said we’re about to have company. They must’ve been staking out the alley to see if we’d come back for the Terrorbyte. I should’ve thought of that,” Geoff berated himself while Ryan gently placed Gavin in the backseat of the leader’s car. “Alright, small change of teams. Jack, you’re with me, Gavin, and Michael; Lindsay hop in with Jeremy and Ryan.” No one protested the order and soon they were peeling out of the alley. Not long after, B-Team pulled up behind them and the three Fake vehicles were tearing through Los Santos.
FAKES
It didn’t take long for Gavin to pass out. Whether from pain, blood loss, or exhaustion, the crew didn’t know but it heightened their sense of urgency. Jack sat in the back of Geoff’s car with one hand on Gavin’s carotid and the other holding her SMG. The kid wouldn’t die now that they had him back. Jack would do everything in her power to prevent that. When the first portion of their trip remained quiet, she had hoped that they somehow managed to avoid any confrontation with Blake’s guys.
That fantasy was crushed when Matt’s voice rang over comms. “Shit, they’re here.” A quick glance back confirmed his observation and the grip on her gun tightened.
The three Toros were quickly gaining on them and she could hear B-Team opening fire.
“One of them is coming up on the left,” Alfredo called out.
Sighing in frustration, Jack reluctantly removed her fingers from Gavin’s neck and leaned out her window to unload on the approaching vehicle. She could see Ryan doing the same in the car behind them and together the two Gents managed to take out the driver. With no one in control, the vehicle steered violently into a building and exploded on impact.
“Alfredo, try to get a sticky on one of ‘em.” Michael was hanging out his side of the vehicle and was focused on taking out the driver on the right. He groaned in annoyance as Geoff hit a pothole, effectively redirecting his bullets. “Jesus Geoff, learn how to fucking drive.” The sound of a sticky bomb blowing up behind them elicited no reaction from the two men and they continued their squabble. Jack, however, poked her head back out the window to see that the vehicle that had been directly behind B-Team was now on fire and disappearing into the distance.
“I’m fucking sorry, you try driving on this fucking street while trying to avoid bullets and see how well you do.” Another pothole and another growl from Michael. “It’s like God damn swiss cheese.”
Michael refocused on the road and was concentrating on lining up a shot when Geoff suddenly swerved violently.
“Geoff what the fuck are you doing?”
“Michael, I swear to fucking Christ. Do you want me to hit the potholes or do you want me to avoid them? Make up your damn mind.”
Michael grumbled to himself but elected to not argue further. “Hey Fredo? You got another sticky back there? I’m having a hard time lining up a shot. The road seems to be working against us.”
“Yeah I’ll see what I can do.” They watched as another brick of explosives flew out the passenger window and landed on the hood of their adversary's car. Seconds later, flames engulfed the Toros with a bang and the vehicle swerved off the road. Alfredo loudly ‘whooped’ and yelled, “suck on that” into their comms while Michael crawled back into his seat with a smile on his face.
“I don’t even know why we bother bringing guns. Stickys are way more effective.”
Jack allowed a small smile to grace her face while she leaned over to check on her charge. Gavin was still unconscious and his breathing was shallow but his condition was far better than Jack thought it would be considering they thought they were going out to recover a body. She set a hand on his head and stroked his hair as Geoff pulled into the garage, glad that they made it home in one piece.
“How’s he doing back there Jack?”
“Still breathing but I’ll feel a lot better once I can take a good look at him.”
“Yeah I think we all will.”
“Careful Jack. If Gavin hears you, he might think you’re coming onto him.” Michael turned around in his seat to give Jack a shit-eating grin.
“Yeah right. Like he’d have a chance.” That was enough to pull a genuine laugh out of her teammates and Jack could feel the pieces of whatever had broken in her that day, sliding back into place.
Cars parked and emptied, the crew was once again crammed into the elevator, this time with less urgency and with one more lad. Ryan had somehow managed to pick the kid up without rousing him and, while this was concerning, Jack was glad he wouldn’t suffer any unnecessary pain. Now that they were back at HQ they could relax and Jack could focus her full attention on making sure Gav was okay.
FAKES
49 minutes, 30mg of morphine, 13 stitches, and 1 IV later, Gavin was fast asleep on his bed surrounded by his family. The Fakes finally had the chance to breathe easy now that the kid was in front of them and Jack had announced that he would be fine with bed rest and time. With B-Team maintaining overwatch on the building, they didn’t have anything else to worry about. They were all exhausted but couldn't bring themselves to sleep, the residual adrenaline from the day keeping them awake.
They’d been sitting in comfortable silence for the better part of an hour when Geoff cleared his throat.
“You know, for about half an hour today I thought you were all dead.” The Fakes turned to look at their leader but didn’t say anything, their silence encouraging him to continue. “Those were the worst thirty minutes of my life. I don’t normally like to be wrong, not that I ever am, but I’m glad as dicks I was wrong today.” For the first time today, Geoff let the tears run down his face.
“When Gavin went dark I knew we were screwed,” Jack whispered, eyes damp. “Then Michael got shot and the bomb went off early. Honestly, I heard the RPG coming my way and it didn’t even register that I was about to die. I just knew that if any of you were still alive, you were going to need me to patch you up. That’s all I could think about when I bailed.”
“I don’t know if my heart has ever sunk so fast as when I saw your downed chopper Jack,” Ryan cut in. “I knew no one could survive a crash like that. I had survived the explosion so I knew there was a chance that Jeremy had too. And Michael, seeing you go down was just... it just happened so fast, I... I didn’t even really have time to process what I’d seen before Jeremy and I had to go in to grab the cash and plant the bomb.”
“I’m actually kind’ve glad I was one of the first ones down. I don’t know how I would’ve handled thinking anyone else was dead. It was bad enough thinking Gavin…” Michael paused. “I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
“I kept thinking that nothing was going our way, that lady luck was mad at us or something but I think she really saved our asses today,” Jeremy stated and everyone nodded in agreement, “and I am so fucking thankful for that.”
“We’re all still here and that’s what matters.” Geoff glanced at the Brit and noticed with a start that his eyes were open. “Gavin. How you feeling buddy?”
“Having a heart-to-heart without me? I’m offended.” His voice was gravelly and barely above a whisper but he’d take it. He gladly accepted the sip of water that Jack offered him.
“You didn’t answer my question dickhead.”
“I don’t know. Like a sumo wrestler shot me and then body slammed me?”
“How’s the pain level?”
“‘m fine Jack. I don’t need anything yet. I wanna stay awake for a bit.” Jack looked displeased but didn’t pester him any further.
Now that Gavin was awake the conversation took on a much lighter tone. The Fakes exchanged insults and jabs while giving their version of the day’s events. The crew was loud and boisterous and if anyone noticed that some of the tales were a tad embellished, no one said anything.
Gavin stayed silent and observed his friends’ interactions with a goofy grin on his face. When he could feel his hold on consciousness slipping away, he decided he needed to speak up before he lost his chance.
“Hey guys.” Conversation halted and attention turned to the Brit. “Thanks for coming back for me.” The concern that had spread on their faces at his interjection melted away and they all smiled softly.
Geoff placed a hand softly on his kid’s forehead and brushed the hair out of his face. “Anytime buddy.”
Gavin fell asleep surrounded by his family and carrying the knowledge that they would always be there when he needed them.
The smile that had taken up residence on Geoff’s face in the last few minutes slowly slipped away after the kid closed his eyes and he suddenly turned serious. “Guys how did they know where Gavin was?”
His eyes met Jack’s. “What?”
He looked to each of his team members in turn as he said, “Gavin went dark early and no one should’ve known where he was. He was 3 blocks away for fucks sake and he was that far for a reason. How did they find him so quickly? How did they even know to look for him?” Geoff watched as realization dawned on his teammate’s faces.
“We have a mole.”