Chapter Text
It was night in Los Santos, not that that made much of a difference in the city. Fluorescent signs and street lights lit up the streets almost as well as sunlight. Ryan grimaced; dark alleys and abandoned windows were more his forte than jacking a vehicle in what might as well have been broad daylight. But this is what Geoff had told him to do and Ryan was nothing but loyal… when it served his interests. He tucked his mask more firmly under one arm, scanning the street slowly for something fast, nondescript, and unguarded.
Michael crossed his arms over his chest, fingers digging into the skin slightly as he waited patiently for Ryan to actually pick a fucking car. If it'd been his choice, he'd have taken the first one he'd seen; not stalked around like a vulture looking for it's prey. It wasn't as if it was that important, the heist was going to be easy to complete either way. It was rare that Geoff paired the two men together at all, and more often than not Michael was by Geoff's side.
Unable to keep quiet any longer, he huffed in annoyance. "I'm sure no one will suspect a thing."
Ryan turned away from the car he was inspecting to raise an eyebrow at his partner. "If you'd like to pick, go right ahead," he said, motioning to the cars lining the street with a gloved hand, "Just don't come crying to me when the alarm goes off and half the fucking city comes out to see what's going on."
This was why he didn't like working with Michael; the hot headed young man was always much too impatient for Ryan's taste. Crime was an art. You had to plan well and be careful if you didn't want to end up with the cops on your ass and a bag full of evidence in the front seat.
Michael fought the urge to roll his eyes at the man's gaze, choosing instead to grind his teeth together lightly. He glanced at the line of cars where Ryan had pointed to, bouncing on his feet impatiently as he glanced in the car closest to their left.
"What's wrong with this car?" Michael prompted stubbornly, "It's not like it matters if the alarm goes off, we'll be gone before anyone even notices." He was getting progressively more irritated with Geoff's decision to pair them together, and Ryan's insistence of practically going car shopping.
Ryan gave the car a cursory glance. It was cherry red and looked like it cost a fortune, exactly the kind of vehicle Ryan would normally avoid. Today, however, he was getting fed up with Michael's antics and they only had half an hour to get to the rendezvous point. He slipped his mask over his head with a sigh, smashing the driver's side window with an elbow. Picking the lock wouldn't have done any good, the vehicle had "car alarm" written all over it and his suspicions were proved correct when a siren loud enough to make him grit his teeth began to sound.
Giving Michael an annoyed smirk, he motioned to the car, "After you."
Michael’s body jumped as the alarm rang throughout his ears, his eyes naturally going wide while his body jumped into gear as Ryan's words formed in his ears. He slid across the hood of the car, throwing a cocky grin in Ryan's direction before moving to stand in front of the driver's seat, patiently waiting for Ryan to slide into the passenger seat and unlock his locked door.
Ryan settled back into the passenger's seat, kicking his feet up onto the dash to give an illusion of calm confidence. Underneath his mask, though, he was fuming. How had he let Michael goad him into doing something so profoundly stupid? He gritted his teeth, all the more annoyed by Michael's cocky, grinning face. The man was arrogant, there was no doubt about that, but it only served to elevate him their boss's eyes. Geoff was always grinning at Michael while the other man sucked up to him, while he never spared Ryan a second glance unless he said something untoward. Even then, his only response was disgust or even mild fear. Michael was charismatic where Ryan was silent, almost awkward, and angry where Ryan was eerily calm and logical. He could hate the man for his tendency towards the irrational, but Ryan couldn't deny that he was sometimes jealous of the easy way Michael interacted with others.
Michael fell into the driver's seat easily, pulling his pistol out of his jeans and unto the divider between the seats. He'd only kept one of his guns on their trip today, in case of emergencies. Getting cars was never supposed to be too heavily involved, but protection was important and due to their high-ranking positions, they were wanted by a lot of people. Michael swiftly drove them out from the sidewalk; peeling harshly around a corner and glancing over at Ryan's body moving due to momentum.
He hissed in annoyance at the still sounding alarm, trailing his fingers across the buttons and searching for the button that would turn the shrill piercing sound off. He kept his main focus on the road, paying close attention to the civilians glancing their way as he started to become frantic for the button. It was embarrassing, Ryan was sitting there, calm and collected; unphased by anything Michael threw at him and where as Michael wasn't worried, he knew they weren't far from the police station and he wasn't in the mood to run from the cops today. His pride refused to allow him to ask the masked man to his right if he knew where the button was.
The still sounding alarm pulled Ryan from his thoughts and he looked over to see Michael pressing buttons on the dashboard almost at random. He snorted as the younger man accidentally turned on the radio, which briefly blared the first few notes of some catchy pop song Ryan vaguely recognized before Michael jabbed the button again.
"Need some help there?" Ryan asked, smirking behind his mask.
Michael glared at him for a few seconds, huffing in frustration. He could practically imagine the snide face behind the mask and it angered him to no end. However, the police station was growing closer and their time was growing shorter. They passed another red light, Michael uncaringly speeding past honking horns. Very inconspicuous, Michael, nicely done; he thought irritatedly.
"Yeah, I've never driven this type before." Michael muttered finally, it was true. He'd been known for driving and stealing cars the most, though more often than not he winded up just driving them into a ditch afterwards; due to Geoff yelling at him about evidence.
Ryan pulled a switchblade from his pocket and reached across Michael, his chest practically resting on the man's legs, and popped open the panel situated to the left of the steering wheel. He examined the wires inside briefly before flicking open the knife and sawing into one of them with practiced ease. The wire snapped and the blaring alarm stopped immediately
Michael eyes went wide when the man opened the switchblade, eyes shining confusion and fear. Michael's breath hitched when Ryan leant across him, hoping it went unnoticed by the other man as he kept his hands locked on the steering wheel, barely avoiding the curb due to the distraction. He glanced down as Ryan opened the panel, realization dawning on him finally as he sliced the wire. Now without the obnoxious alarm in Michael's ears his body visibly relaxed, though a slight blush still remained on his face. Michael tore his attention back to the road, slowing down somewhat so that they could pass by the police station unnoticed.
Ryan pulled back, flashing Michael a smug grin before realizing that the man couldn't see it. "Not too hard, if you know what you're doing," he said, voiced laced with condescension.
When Ryan spoke Michael formed a glare at him quickly, mouth pulling up in a slight snarl at the accusation. "I know what I'm doing, I just didn't want to ruin the fucking cables." Michael seethed, moving an arm to rest on the side of his door, driving the car with only his right.
Ryan raised an eyebrow at reddish tinge of Michael's cheeks, but shrugged it off. It was probably the adrenaline of the heist or simply embarrassment. He settled back in his seat, genuinely relaxed now that he felt in control once more.
"Yeah, sure. I'm sure you jack alarmed cars for /Geoff/ all the time," he quipped, cringing at the way the their bosses name passed his lips in a less than complimentary tone.
Michael drummed his fingers impatiently on the side of his door, never being the type to just comfortably sit anywhere. Well, that, and trying desperately to will away his blush. Michael glanced over at the tone of the masked man, quietly wondering if the two men were in a debate of some sort. He chose instead to not address the conversation.
"So where are we supposed to be taking this?" Michael changed the subject easily, bringing his left thumb nail to his mouth to chew on lightly. It was a habit he'd first started at a young age, for nerves, but now drew on unto his adult life as just something to do.
"The back alley off Power Street, behind the Ammu-Nation." Really, Michael should know that already, but Ryan wasn't in the mood to chew him out for it, "Gavin should meet us there with the money, then we drive him to the pier to meet Geoff, Jack, and Ray."
Honestly, Ryan wasn't looking forward to the heist as much as he normally did. He'd only get to shoot someone if something went wrong, otherwise he and Michael were just glorified chauffeurs. But once again, Geoff was the boss and at the end of the night, Ryan would be walking away with a solid 5 grand in his pocket… hopefully.
"Right." Michael nodded, he wasn't sure why he was getting so nervous around the older man. He absolutely should be well aware of where he was driving this to, his momentary lapse causing his nerves to shake up slightly. He masked it well, however, making a few turns and shifting slightly under the silence of the drive. He glanced at Ryan when the man's cell phone began to ring, probably from one of the other guy's.
Ryan dug his vibrating phone out of his pocket, silencing the chorus of standard, polyphonic tones that came from it with a swipe of his finger. The caller ID was blank, but that wasn't unexpected. Ryan had memorized his… well, friends wasn't quite the right word… associates' numbers a long time ago. He didn't want any of their contact information to get into the wrong hands if he was captured or dumb enough to lose his phone.
He didn't even have time to get out a 'Hello?' before Gavin's familiar, accented voice was buzzing in his ear. "Ryan- bloody hell- I've gotten a bit, erm, caught up-" there was a loud bang and then a distinctly Gavin-esque yelp from the other end of the phone.
"Gavin? Are you alright?" Ryan's brow furrowed, but he didn't let his worry show in his voice.
"Yeah, fine. Just ran into an old… erm, friend. He's not too happy to see me and-" another bang and then a metallic clang as the bullet, or Ryan assumed it was a bullet, ricocheted off whatever Gavin was using as a shield.
"Don't worry, he's almost out of bullets. Just got a pistol, I'll be fine. 'M wearing a vest, anyways. Just wanted to let you know I'll be a bit late." Before Ryan could protest and demand the Brit to tell him where he was, the line went dead with a cheery "See you soon!"
Michael glanced at Ryan nervously, only picking up small bits of the british accent. He mouthed a quick "What?" to him as he tried to keep an eye on the road. He groaned when he heard Ryan's question, wondering exactly what Gavin had managed to get himself into this time. He moved a hand to his face, rubbing his cheek nervously while waiting for the conversation to end. Once it did, and Ryan was sliding the phone into his pocket again, Michael was already asking questions. "What happened? Is he okay?"
Ryan grimaced beneath his mask, "He's fine, apparently. Just being shot at. Wouldn't tell me where he was, either. He said that he'd 'be a bit late'." Ryan reached up to comb his fingers through his hair before remembering his attire. It was a nervous habits, and even years of donning a mask half the time he went out in public hadn't cured him of it, "I suppose we'll just have to wait at the rendezvous."
"Fuckin' great." Michael huffed, running a hand across the back of his neck as he pulled into a back alley street. He really didn't feel like sitting here with Ryan for an undetermined amount of time, the man was proving to not be great at conversations and Michael couldn't stand to sit in silence and wait. Once he moved the car to a stop, he rolled the windows down to save them from heat stroke before turning the engine off. He tapped his foot as he picked up his gun, twirling it in his hands.
Ryan moved to take off his mask now that they weren't in any danger of being seen, lifting the black skull over his head and setting it on the dashboard. He ran his hand through his now messy hair, sighing. He hoped Gavin wasn't getting shot to death right now, partly because he genuinely did like the man and partly because it meant losing any cash they were going to earn tonight. He glanced over at Michael, but the man was looking down at the gun in his hands, fiddling with it absently.
Michael hummed softly, fingertips running across the gun as he stared impatiently at the roof of the car. He felt awkward in the car, alone with a man he wasn't usually alone with, and someone who to be frankly honest, scared the shit out of him.. He blinked a few times before setting the gun back on the seat and pulling his phone out of his pocket and absentmindedly beginning to play a game. He avoided Ryan the entire time, obviously unsure of how to handle the situation they were in.
Ryan watched the other man absently, tracking his movements with the practiced eyes of someone who stalked people for a living. Michael's gaze never once strayed over to him and Ryan furrowed his brow at the expression on the other's face. He knew that look… and it made Ryan's heart sink. He'd seen it a thousand times before: from Geoff, from Gavin, even from Ray a couple of times. He'd seen it even when he was a teenager, the other students giving him a wide berth, staring at their feet with that expression on their faces. He'd seen a much more visceral version of it on the faces of those he'd tortured and killed. It was fear- discomfort and fear.
"You're afraid of me," Ryan said flatly. Not a question, but a statement that he carefully kept devoid of the disappointment he felt… this disappointment and, dare he say, sadness. It was a heavy emotion that Ryan couldn't quite place a name to.
Michael jumped at the sound of the man's voice breaking through the silence. His brown eyes training on the other's blue ones as he arched an eyebrow cooly. He certainly hadn't expected Ryan to react, and truthfully he felt it was a rather cocky statement.
"No, I'm not." Michael lied calmly, throwing up a charismatic grin. He wasn't sure of the statement, wondering why Ryan even cared at all if he was afraid of him. Michael had seen him plan to torture people before, he had always assumed Ryan had gotten off on the fact that people were scared of him, why else would someone wear a mask so much?
Ryan shook his head, "Yes, you are." He kept his voice emotionless, going even as far as to put a hard edge on it, "You think I don't know what it looks like? I can /tell/. Don't lie to me, Michael."
He wasn't sure why he was so instant that Michael admit it. Perhaps it was simply the fact that he loathed being lied to, but perhaps what Ryan really wanted an explanation.
Michael rolled his eyes in frustration, dropping his smile and getting annoyed at the tone the man was taking with him. He was sure the man was talking down to him now, noticing the hint of argumentativeness in his voice that prepared Michael for a verbal fight. He shrugged his shoulders uncaringly.
"Yeah, so what?" Michael challenged, turning his body slightly to keep his eyes steady with Ryan's.
Ryan was a bit surprised at the other mans confrontational approach, though perhaps he shouldn't have been. It was Michael after all; the man tended to default towards anger, fight rather than flee. He cocked his head to the side, a motion that revealed more of his true feelings than his tone of voice did, "Why?"
Michael gauged the man's reactions for a moment, furrowing his brows in confusion. He sighed softly once he noticed the man wasn't going to mock him for it. "I don't know, cause you act creepy dude. I don't know anything about you, and you wear that fuckin' mask all the time."
Michael shrugged, he wanted to add on the fact that he was intimidating; but figured it was better not to express his weaknesses towards the guy. Ryan was quite the talk around the town and Michael had honestly heard it all, from he was a serial killer to he used to own a farm. He had no idea what was true or false when it came to him.
Ryan scrubbed his face absently with one hand. It was hardly the answer he wanted, though he wasn't quite sure what would have been. 'Creepy' was an abstract term and he wore his mask to protect his identity; honestly, he didn't know why the rest of the crew tended not to cover their faces.
So Ryan latched onto the only piece of the explanation he could; "What do you want to know?"
Michael was a little shocked by his invitation to ask what he wanted, he certainly hadn't expected the offer from someone who remained so inconspicuous. He had multitudes of questions lined up, one's he'd discussed with Gavin and Ray on late night adventures, or one's he'd prompted Geoff to let him in on.
For some reason, however, Michael could barely come up with one as he watched Ryan's face hesitantly. "Why'd you join Geoff's gang? There are plenty in LS." Michael asked lamely, mentally cursing himself for not coming up with a question about the man's past, or if all the allegations of him murdering people and eating them were true.
Ryan shrugged and looked down, pulling off a glove and picking absently at his nails. "No particular reason, I guess, except for the fact that Geoff asked me to. I… needed a purpose, not to mention cash. Geoff found me, said he had a gang and I'd be paid well if I was useful. Apparently having my kind of reputation doesn't scare everybody off, though it does most people," he left his answer vague, hoping that much might sate Michael, though he doubted it.
"What about your life? Do you have a family? Friends?" Michael prompted, greedily taking in the information and absentmindedly leaning closer to him. He wasn't sure why he had such an intense need to know as much about this man as possible, but he did.
Ryan glanced up, noting how close Michael was. It was odd, but didn't make him feel uncomfortable. His question, however, did. "I- No. I don't, not really," Ryan said shifting in his seat. He hadn't had friends for a long time now, and family… that was a whole other can of worms entirely. One that Michael probably didn't want to know about and he was loath to tell him.
"So you weren't a serial killer prior to the gang?" Michael asked curiously, raising an eyebrow as he leant backwards slightly, noticing the man's posture and taking it for him being uncomfortable by the distance.
"You don't have to answer any more, if you don't want to." Michael scratched his arm absentmindedly, glancing forwards and scanning his eyes across the buildings before turning his attention once more to the man.
Ryan shook his head, "No, it's fine. I… don't want you to be afraid of me," he said the last in the same, almost flat tone of voice he'd been speaking in the entire conversation, but softer. Almost as if he himself was scared, or at least uncomfortable, admitting it.
"As for the serial killer thing… no. I killed people, but…" Ryan glanced away, cutting himself off, "I killed people."
Michael smiled charismatically, slightly hesitant due to the man's reactions, noticing the softer tone and uncharacteristic persona that was surrounding the normally harsh man. "Well, we've all killed people, it's hard to escape that." Michael shrugged, clearing his throat with a cough. "Uh, thanks for uh, y'know admitting all of this.." Michael muttered awkwardly, running a hand across the back of his neck.
Ryan cocked an eyebrow, mentally readjusting his persona to resemble the harsh, confident, and logical exterior he usually wore, "I'm not really all that closed off. You just never asked. Too worried about the whole 'tortures people for a living' thing, I suppose," he threw on a smirk for good measure, but it didn't quite fit.
Michael sighed loudly, moving to prop his foot up on the seat and glance over at him. "Can you really blame me for being scared?” Michael muttered, nervously glancing at the steering wheel. "I mean, you never really act like you like us, or anything..."
The smirk slid off of Ryan's face like butter and his eyes grew cold, "You're my… associates. I don't dislike you either." He mentally chastised himself for opening up at all, because this was the core of it: he was Ryan the psychopath, Ryan the loner, Ryan the outsider. He hadn't even told them his real name. Distance… was for the best, really. One day, possibly one day soon, Michael would die, as would the other members of their crew. It was inevitable in this line of work, and when it happened, he didn't want to be close enough that it hurt. Because then he would get sloppy or want revenge, and what was the point of having friends if they would lead to grief and possibly his own death. Ryan would much rather glide along through life, doing what he pleased… alone.
Michael nodded, quieting down and leaving it at that. He didn't want to press Ryan anymore, and he definitely didn't want to bother the man in any way. He slid his hand across the gun to his right and continued his nervous tapping.
"Uh, well... nevermind then." Michael glanced across the buildings. "Should we look for him or something?
Ryan checked the time on his phone; Gavin should have been there ten minutes ago according to schedule. Even with his hold up, he probably should have arrived by now, "I'd give him five more minutes before we panic. It's Gavin, he could have gotten lost or something."
Michael gnawed on his lip, running a hand through his hair. "He would've called us, yeah?" He couldn't help getting a little nervous, having gone a while without so much as a contact from the other guy's, he was growing impatient and unable to sit still.
Ryan pursed his lips, "Perhaps," he glanced over at Michael's fidgeting form and gave in, "I suppose we /could/ look for him, if you'd like." He didn't like seeing the other man nervous like this; he knew how much of a bond Michael and Gavin had and how much either would be devastated to lose the other. In fact, it was one of his main references when it came to the pitfalls of relationships. Gavin was clumsy and occasionally astonishingly stupid, but Michael always stuck up for 'his boi' and it had led the two into more than one sticky situation.
Michael was about to respond when his phone buzzed, pulling the phone from his pocket he opened the text message, glaring down at a minute before shoving the phone into Ryan's hand, which read "found a top bike, took that instead, meet you there.' Michael huffed, rolling up the windows and turning on the engine. "That fucker." He grumbled, but relaxing against the seat anyway. At least he was alive.
Ryan rolled his eyes; Gavin Free was practically the definition of unprofessional. "Alright, let's go then," he said, picking up his mask from the dash and slipping it over his head once more and actually buckling his seatbelt this time.
Michael pulled out of the alleyway, turning the corner sharply and peeling off in the direction they needed to go. He ran a hand across the steering wheel, moving the other to rest on his gun as he eyed a black tinted car parking sneakily in an alleyway they were just about to pass.
"Do you think?" Michael started to ask, turning his head to glance at the other man.
"Do I think what?" Ryan asked, voice once again slightly muffled by the mask.
"Fuck me." Michael grunted as they sped past the alleyway. He glanced in the rearview mirror, only to see the car following closely behind them. "Can you get a clear look at them?" Michael asked, trying to keep his eyes on the road, and the other car.
Ryan looked around and cursed his inattentiveness under his breath, "Shit. Doesn't look like police, but that isn't necessarily a good thing." He chewed his lip thoughtfully, "The way I see it, we have two options: either lose 'em or fight 'em. I know a warehouse near here we can lead them to if we choose the latter," Ryan had always been good at coming up with plans in the spur of the moment, but the fact that he had no idea who the people in the car behind them were or what their intentions were worried him.
"I don't think I can lose them, we're already running low on gas." Michael muttered, keeping an eye on the rear view mirror; grimacing when the guys pulled out a gun. "And I don't think they'd exactly want a soda from the gas station." Michael grumbled sarcastically. "Did you bring any guns?"
Ryan snorted, "Is that even a question?" He reached into the back of his pants, pulling out a semiautomatic pistol with a grin that was concealed behind his mask, "I have a case of ammo in my jacket pocket, too." Eyeing the intersection ahead of them, he motioned for Michael to turn right, "The warehouse is this way. If we're quick enough, we might be able to get the drop on them."
Michael turned the car right, tires squealing as the rounded the corner. "Can you get out a text to the others?" He glanced nervously behind them for a second, dodging a few corners as he maneuvered the car.
Ryan nodded, before realizing that Michael was probably too busy dodging vehicles to look at him, "Sure." He pulled out his phone, typing in Geoff's number and quickly sending a message reading 'Some assholes on our tail. Will hopefully be at the pier in under an hour. Gav's headed your way on a bike' before making sure the safety on his gun was off.
Michael made a few more turns, noticing the warehouse and parking in front of it. He stopped the car completely, grabbing his gun off the divider and opening the driver's side door, sliding out of it.
Ryan followed suit, grabbing Michael's hand and pulling him towards the side door of the warehouse. This was no time for dancing around physical contact; they needed to get in, get up the stairs, and to a vantage point where they could easily shoot their pursuers, and if that meant Ryan had to drag Michael along to get him to go fast enough, so be it.
Michael glanced down at their hands, but shook his head; willing himself to stay focused on the problem at hand. This was not the time to think about his possible adoration for his co-worker, his co-criminal at that. He jogged along, nearly tripping up the stairs but catching himself in time to get properly situated.
Ryan yanked more insistently on Michael's hand as they jogged up the stairs; speed was of the utmost importance if they were to get the drop on their pursuers. When they reached the balcony, Ryan dropped the other man's hand and crouched down, sticking the barrel of his pistol though the bars and aimed towards the double doors marking the warehouse's main entrance. He motioned for Michael to do the same, not taking his eyes off the door.
Michael followed Ryan's lead quickly, a trained fast reaction time from all his time on he sits and other criminal activity. He knew at any moment this could be life or death. He crouched down, balancing on one foot and leaning his knee on the concrete. He easily stuck his pistol in between the bars as well, giving Ryan a slight smirk as the adrenaline hit his core.
The older man shook his head slightly at Michael's cockiness and quickly retrained his gaze on the double doors which were beginning to creak open. He held up a hand, a silent "not yet". He wanted to wait until they had a clear shot at these fuckers.
Michael nodded, licking his lips in concentration as he watched the guys move around. They weren't cops, that was for sure. They had more than a few illegal weapons, and it only took a few minutes for Michael to recognize one of their well-known rival gangs.
Ryan gritted his teeth at the impressive array of weaponry. One man, the leader judging from the orders he was barking at the other two, had an assault rifle in his hands that he held it with the steady, practiced air of an experienced marksman. The other two were holding guns of slightly lesser caliber, but even they were better than the pistols he and Michael had between them.
"What do we do?" Michael whispered lowly, keeping his voice at an octave they couldn't hear. He wasn't exactly great at stealth, but they definitely couldn't face them head on. They weren't just outnumbered, they were used to that, they could handle that. They were out powered.
"I'll take out the guy in front, you go for the woman with the handgun," Ryan hissed, "Hopefully we can take them out in just a few shots and the other one will be too surprised to fire back right away." He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt; they'd be lucky to get out of this mess alive. He resolved that if anyone was going down, it would be Michael, wincing slightly at his willingness to sacrifice the other man for his own survival. But then again, that was the way Ryan operated. He was selfish and cowardly to the core if it meant living.
"Alright. Sounds like a plan." Michael nodded, taking a second to close his eyes and take a deep breath; it wasn't like he hadn't risked his life before. They could do this, they'd done plenty of insane things. Everything was going to be fine, Michael had to trust that.