Chapter Text
The blond took one last glance at the list of addresses and crumpled the sheet of paper into his pocket. A dark haired man jogged over to him to meet his pace, falling into stride with him easily.
"Where to now, B?" he asked. The lighter haired man pursed his lips and took the sheet from his pocket. He passed it to the other man without meeting his eyes, not slowing his pace as he did.
"The second address." The dark haired man looked down through the addresses and let out a low whistle.
"You're going to him first?" he said. The blond nodded, though kept his head down to avoid the light drizzle.
"He's the closest one to here, and the Dark Men are going to find us again soon. The Mordell Family can't be that far behind, either."
"Are you nervous?" the black haired man asked. The blond smirked, a breathy laugh escaping his lips.
"I'm bloody terrified," he admitted. "He scares me more than the Dark Men and Family combined, sometimes. But I'm also pretty fucking excited."
His partner nodded, but the blond wondered how much he actually understood. He was dreading seeing him, but also couldn't wait. He was afraid of his reaction, but also looking forward to it. He had been wanting to see him again for over two years, and yet now he had his chance he wanted nothing more than to just turn tail and run.
They turned a corner and walked along an eerily quiet street. There wasn't a soul outside, and the blond couldn't blame them. His white t-shirt was already sticking to his skin, a mixture of sweat and rain, and he let out an involuntary shiver.
He looked up to the dark clouds above, and his eye caught the sight of a man dressed in black on a rooftop. He noticed the sniper rifle at the same time the man noticed him.
"Get down!" the blond yelled, grabbing the darker haired man's shirt and tugging him into the alleyway to their left, landing roughly on the floor as a shot rang out. He heard a groan from his friend and fear struck his heart.
"Shit, Dan, you okay?" he asked, scrambling to his feet. He dusted the stones from his palms and reached out a hand to help the dark haired man up. Dan took his hand gratefully and let him pull him to his feet, wincing at the movement.
"Yeah, 'm fine. It was just a graze," Dan assured him. The blond's eyes trailed down to the wound on the right side of the man's torso, the shirt ripped slightly and blood staining the surrounding material. He set his lips into a grim smile, but didn't argue with Dan. There wasn't much they could do about it either way.
"Was that a Dark Man or a Mordell?" Dan asked him. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly and thought about it. The Mordell Family were more likely to snipe, a much more tactical method. The Dark Men tended to be a lot more hands on in their approach.
But then, if it had been the Family shooting at them, they most likely be dead.
"Probably a Dark Man, but not sure," he admitted. "Doesn't really matter, though."
"They'll have called back up," Dan warned. The blond nodded in agreement. He risked peering around the side of the building, their only shelter, and cursed. Three men dressed in black were already walking down the street in their direction, guns evident at their hips.
"They already have," he told Dan. "Come on, we have to get moving." Dan kept one hand pressed to his wound as they jogged down the alleyway, lagging behind slightly. The blond kept a firm grasp on the man's free hand, the other hovering over the gun by his waistband.
They turned a corner onto another street, not as empty as the other one, but still fairly deserted. The blond bit his lip and looked around. The Mordell Family were more cautious when it came to witnesses, but the Dark Men didn't seem like the type to care about that sort of thing.
He decided to head to the restaurant across the street, hoping for an exit in the kitchen to some back alleyway. Dan clearly had the same idea, as he strode ahead in the same direction.
"I think we're going to have to split up," Dan commented. The blond turned to him, eyes wide.
"You can't be serious, B," he breathed. "You're bloody injured, you can't make it there on your own."
"Like hell I can't!" Dan responded. "I didn't spend all that time in the army - hell, I didn't bloody spend months training with you and Monty to let them catch me over a graze from a bullet."
"How the fuck is splitting up even supposed to help us?" the blond hissed. He pushed open the doors to the restaurant and the two walked in. He looked into the street as he shut the doors behind them and saw the man walking out of the alleyway. He frowned lightly.
"We're much harder to catch that way, and you know it," Dan replied. "It's much easier to be sneaky when it's just you that you're worried about."
The two started to walked through the tables, making their way to the door marked STAFF ONLY.
"You mean you think you're going to slow me down with your wound," the blond replied angrily. Dan gave him a crooked smile.
"Partly," he admitted, cocking his head to the side. "But, I also think you can distract them enough that I can get by undetected. You're a lot more noticeable than me." He grinned at the blond's expression. "Hey, I wouldn't be suggesting this if I didn't think I'd make it out alive. Trust me-"
"Excuse me," a woman interrupted, stepping in front of the door to the kitchen. The blond quickly pulled his shirt over the gun at his waistband to obscure it. "The kitchen is staff only, I'm afraid. I'm going to have- oh, God." Her mouth fell open at the sight of Dan's blood shirt.
"You're injured, sir, I don't know if you realize..." she trailed off, still staring at the wound. "I'll call an ambulance."
"That won't be necessary," the blond assured her. He heard Dan whisper a quiet "fuck" beside him and turned his head as the restaurant entrance opened.
One of the men from the alleyway walked in, a clearly visible gun in one hand. Definitely a Dark Man, though knowing that wasn't much of a help at the moment.
Welp, shit.
"Sorry, don't mind me, I'll just..." the blond shoved past the woman into the kitchen, and Dan followed quickly behind. The two sprinted as fast as they could through the kitchen without running into any of the chefs, and came out the back entrance into an alleyway, beside the trash.
Dan slammed the door behind them and took a moment to regain his breath, His hand still pressed against his wound, and the blond frowned. He was really running out of options at this point.
"Fine, we'll split up. Meet at the address as soon as we can." Dan nodded and started to walk away, but the blond abruptly pulled the younger man into a firm hug.
"Be careful, B," he warned. Dan returned the hug and nodded against his shoulder.
"You too," he said. The two pulled back and gave each other one last glance before parting ways.
The blond walked down the alley and peeked around the corner, starting back when he saw a Dark Man walking down the street away from him. He pulled out his revolver and waited a few minutes before peering around again. He was gone.
The blond let out a relieved sigh and quickly made his way across the street. He hadn't been to the city in a while, but he still knew the place like the back of his hand.
The rain was pouring heavily now, and he was sure a storm was about to start any second. His hair was dripping and his t-shirt soaked to the bone, the material clinging to his lanky frame. He kept his head down and made a mad sprint around the corner, almost running straight into a Dark Man.
The man looked just as stunned as he felt. Both scrambled for their guns, but the blond already had his out. His heart was pounding violently against his chest as he positioned the muzzle of the revolver against the other man's chin and pulled the trigger.
He stumbled back from the corpse, trying to avoid looking at it as he ran around it. As much as he did it, there was something about killing someone, especially as close as that had just been, that would always unsettle him.
Someone screamed, most likely at the sight of the body, and he started into a sprint. As unreliable as the Los Santos Police Force could be, he was fairly sure that a dead body and several gun shots wouldn't go unnoticed.
One more turn, a quick glance around to make sure that no one was following him, and he was in the apartment building. It was a nice place, but he hadn't expected anything less. He didn't bother to admire the scenery and didn't bother with the elevator, too impatient to wait. He took the stairs two at a time.
He came to a halt outside room 224, still dripping wet. He raised his hand to knock on the door and paused. Should he wait for Dan? Probably. Or maybe he should go back and find him. They shouldn't have split up in the first place, the guy had been injured-
He was stalling, and he knew it. He had to knock eventually. You could always walk away, he thought, but the thought of leaving when he was just on the other side of the door was almost unbearable.
He took a deep breath, preparing for whatever reaction he would receive, and knocked. The door opened, and he found himself face to face with the man he hadn't seen for almost three years.
"Hey," Gavin said breathlessly, trying at a small smile. "I know it's been a while, but I need your help."
And then, Michael Jones punched him in the face.
"Ach!" Gavin squawked. "What the hell, Michael?" He had to admit, when he had imagined meeting his boi again, he had pictured it with a lot more kissing, a lot less potentially broken noses.
"Are you fucking serious?" Michael spat back. "You're asking me what the hell? You're supposed to be dead! You fucking died two and a half years ago, I saw you-" Michael's voice cracked and he quickly coughed to hide it.
Gavin's smile fell at Michael's distress. He had been a complete idiot to think that Michael would be anything but mad at him. He wanted to hug him so badly, to comfort him, but he was pretty sure that would just result in another punch.
"I'm sorry, Michael," Gavin said quietly. "I didn't mean to... I mean, after I'd healed up, it had been a couple of months. I always planned to come back eventually, but I kind of figured..." he trailed off and looked down at his feet, shuffling in the spot awkwardly.
Michael sighed and stepped to the side. Gavin looked up at him and stepped into the apartment. Michael looked less angry, more... confused. Gavin couldn't exactly blame him. He'd be pretty confused if his friend came back from the dead after over two years.
Friend? Boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend? Gavin shook his head lightly. Now was not the time to be worrying about what his relationship status with Michael was.
Michael shut the door behind him and the two walked over to the living space. Michael made himself comfortable on the sofa, but Gavin stayed on his feet. He stood in front of the television and looked around at the apartment.
"Nice apartment," Gavin commented idly. "The Fake AH Crew never moved back in together, then?" He wondered if Michael could tell what he was really asking: Is the crew still together? Burnie hadn't mentioned it when he went around for the addresses, but he couldn't help but worry slightly.
Michael sighed and raised his eyebrows at him incredulously. "You're asking me about my apartment?" he said. "You've just pulled a fucking Edgar on me, coming back from the dead and all. Can you at least tell me what happened? Why, after two and a half years, you decided to come back now?"
Gavin looked down at his feet and sighed. "It's a long story."
"Dude, don't give me that bullshit. Just tell me-" Both of their heads shot up as the door opened.
"Hey, Michael, I've got-" Ray's eyes widened as they fell on Gavin. His gaze darted between Michael, then Gavin, then Michael, and then back to Gavin. "Okay, what the actual fuck."
"Hey, Ray," Gavin said weakly, giving him a wave. He had missed Michael more than he thought possible, but seeing Ray made him realize how much he missed him, too. He had only known him for a few months, but it didn't mean that they hadn't grown fairly close during the time.
Ray placed his shopping bag on the floor and cocked his head to the side, before a grin spread over his face. He opened his arms wide and walked over to Gavin, and Gavin quickly reciprocated the hug.
"Jesus Christ, Vav-" Ray spluttered over his own words and pulled back at his mistake, still grinning. Gavin laughed.
"Did you just call me Vav?" he asked. Ray laughed, eyes crinkling behind his glasses.
"Vav, Gav, whatever," he teased. His expression fell slightly and he ran a hand through his hair. "But seriously, what the fuck? Don't get me wrong, it's good to see you, but I mean - how are you even alive right now?"
Uneven footsteps echoed down the hallway, and then Dan Gruchy stumbled to the ground in their doorway, one hand still nursing his torso, the other clutching onto the door frame. A fresh bullet wound was visible in his left shoulder. His face was pale and he looked about to pass out.
Gavin sighed. "I'm alive because of him."